Fic: Of Secrets, Sentiments and Sirius Black's Ticklish Place - Day 12
Title: Of Secrets, Sentiments and Sirius Black's Ticklish Place
Author: xkeijukainenx
Recipient: All of you lovelies (hopefully also my dissertation supervisor since I've been doing more work for this than my dissertation. Sigh.)
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,405
Prompt: Day 12
Warnings: Beware of what is perhaps an excessive case of tl;dr. I got carried away. I'm sorry.
Summary: Remus is a closet sentimentalist; Sirius is ticklish.
Author's Notes: This... was meant to be a character study of Remus and then Sirius burst in and got in the way. Typical. Thank you all so much for your comments! I'm so glad you enjoy the mini-series; it's been a very long time since I did any writing that wasn't for university classes and even longer since I got involved in a fandom - it's been fun! :D
Could be a standalone, but in line with the rest of my October tales.
[ 1] [ 2] [ 3] [ 4] [ 5] [ 6] [ 7] [ 8] [ 9] [ 10] [ 11]
"I believe that you've had most of your important memories by the time you're thirty. After that, memory becomes water overflowing into an already full cup. New experiences just don't register in the same way or with the same impact. I could be shooting heroin with the Princess of Wales, naked in a crashing jet, and the experience still couldn't compare to the time the cops chased us after we threw the Taylor's patio furniture into their pool in eleventh grade."
~Douglas Coupland
Hidden away under Remus’ bed was a loose floorboard that you could pry open if you applied just the right amount of force with a muggle screwdriver. It was one of the best kept secrets of Hogwarts. Second possibly only to the Chamber of Secrets (which doesn’t do so well at keeping itself secret, really.)
James and Sirius theorized about the existence of such a floorboard - well, they called it “Moony’s Top Secret Hidey Hole of Mischief and Clandestine Stuff,” for he would never so much as give them the tiniest of hints about it’s whereabouts.
Remus didn’t like being so secretive, but when you lived with two of the nosiest, most entitled, most obnoxiously curious and invasive boys in all of Great Britain, you quickly learned to keep certain things close to your chest.
The two marauders had never had a very good idea of ownership or personal space. Remus, who had always been reticent and introverted as a child, quickly learned that to maintain his own sanity he had to have a corner that was his and only his. So he had spent an entire Saturday during which James and Sirius and Peter were being held hostage in McGonagall’s office under his bed, prying the floorboard up with a screwdriver he’d found in one of the greenhouses.
Remus had eventually grown out of his quiet, shy, rule-toeing nature, with the sometimes rather forceful help of Sirius and James, and he had no intention of ever regressing back to insecurity and docility. He thoroughly enjoyed his new-found confidence, sarcasm, wit and - yes - sexual prowess, and he worked hard to maintain a faultless veneer. His friends saw more than others, but Remus tried hard to avoid emotional weakness, especially around them. They’d had enough of it until third year - they didn’t need any more.
Which is why he went to such great trouble to keep his stash of mementos hidden well away from prying eyes. (Incidentally, the floorboard was also where he hid his actual stash, because Sirius tended to view drugs as items to which the rule “finders keepers” applied.)
Despite trying his hardest to appear - and feel - cool as a cucumber, he was often painfully aware that these were, in a ridiculously cliched way, the best days of their lives; that these were the best days he could ever expect to have. He knew well and good that as soon as he graduated, the halcyon glow that the wizarding world held for him would be irreparably shattered by immovable preconceptions and prejudices that proved thicker than blood. Sirius and James swore up and down - and once until they were blue in the face - that they would take care of him and he’d never have to work a day in his life, but Remus didn’t much fancy being a kept man (especially since he obviously couldn’t pay them back in sexual favors.)
So, valiant attempts to be ‘cool’ not withstanding, Remus remained a secret sentimentalist. He loved his friends for their loyalty and the fierceness of their friendship which - if he was truly honest - he felt he didn’t deserve. He loved every minute of Hogwarts; it was an experience and a privilege he never thought he’d have, and he treasured it dearly. He couldn’t imagine being happier anywhere else.
James, Sirius and Peter were once again locked up in detention. It was a crisp autumn Saturday and Remus took the rare opportunity to throw the windows of the dorm room wide open. He ran at least 10 degrees hotter than his roommates and often was sweltering when they felt the cold; as a result, he could sit happily on the window sill in Scotland in October in his well worn t-shirt and jeans, where most normal people would be wearing several layers and shivering. He took out a few of the pictures and letters he’d pulled from his floorboard and flipped through them, smiling. In one of the pictures, taken by Peter, it was impossible to tell where one boy started and the other began - occasionally a head popped out of the melange to grin and shout something incoherently at Peter before it was grabbed by one of the two other boys and shoved into an armpit. It was of them when they were first years and had just gotten over their awkwardness with each other, resulting in nearly twice daily wrestling matches.
In another picture - a Muggle picture, this one, taken on his old beaten up Holga that he’d bought in a Muggle charity shop for three quid - Sirius and James were mostly naked silhouettes, standing at the edge of the lake near James’ house, summer before last.
There was one picture that, when he saw it, gave him pause, and he stared at it for a long time. Peter had taken this one too, and he had hardly even realized it at the time. He saw his fifth year self, sitting on the edge of the bed with tears tracing his cheeks, and watched as a big black dog yapped and licked them off happily. Remus touched the dog gently with one finger and a small nostalgic smile graced his lips.
Every memory that Remus had of Hogwarts was remarkable in it’s clarity, but none were so clear in his mind as this one. His stomach remembered the flips and twists it did as he watched James disappear before his eyes and being replaced by a large deer with velvety antlers and piercingly intelligent eyes. And he remembered his the feeling in his chest as Sirius morphed into the biggest, most beautiful dog he had ever seen; he felt like his heart was buckling, and he could hardly breathe. Peter completed the performance by becoming a rat. (Remus wasn’t so emotional that he didn’t find the time to think, quickly and guiltily, Poor Peter.)
He didn’t know what to do or say so he did the first thing that came to him - burst out in tears. James reappeared with a small pop and rushed to his side, one arm sliding around his neck. “Moony, don’t you like it? Because, mate, this has taken us years...”
Sirius yapped and leapt up, putting his paws on Remus’ shoulders and licking his face clean. At that, Remus started laughing uncontrollably and flung his arms around Sirius’ doggy neck, burying his face in his lovely thick fur.
“You look ridiculous,” he managed to choke out between his laughter and his tears. “You’re so big you could be a Padfoot.”
Sirius appeared where the dog had been and, pulling out of Remus’ embrace, grinned at him. “Padfoot. I like it.”
“God, we’ll have to get him a collar, you know, James,” Remus said, wiping his eyes, coming back to himself enough to feel a little embarrassed at his emotional display.
“We call James Prongs,” Sirius said, winking. “And Peter can be Wormtail.”
“Oi! That’s a rubbish name.”
“Nah, I reckon it works,” Remus said. He looked around at his friends and smiled shyly. “Thanks, you guys. Thank you so much. I can’t even...”
“Alright, alright, no need to turn into a girl just because we can turn into animals,” Sirius said, kindly. He reached up and used the pad of his thumb to wipe another of Remus’ tears and smiled, his grey eyes twinkling playfully, but full of something deeper, like understanding. Remus’ stomach gave out and it was at that moment that he realized he was ridiculously, completely in horrible, painful, consuming love with Sirius Black.
“Cor, it’s bloody freezing in here!” Remus snapped out of his reverie and hastily hid the pictures, notes and letters in his pocket. He looked up and smiled at Sirius, who had just come bursting in to the room with his usual amount of chaotic energy. Sirius grinned back at him, tossing his dragonhide gloves on his bed. “Moony, what’re you doing? You do remember this is Scotland right? Or are you trying to freeze my bollocks off?”
“Sorry, I was hot.” Remus unfolded himself and climbed off the window sill, flopping down next to Sirius on his bed. “How was detention?”
“Sprout made us milk all the bubotubers in greenhouse five, which, by the way, in case you didn’t know, is magically enlarged. I only got free because one of the little bastards squirted me in the eye and I had to go to Pomfrey to get her to restore my sight.”
Remus looked over at his friend with only a mild amount of surprise and worry (the amount of times Sirius had had to have his eyesight restored was honestly ridiculous) - only to find Sirius staring straight back at him. “What were you looking at, earlier,” Sirius asked, quietly. Unable to avoid the question because his ability to think straight had been stripped by those ridiculous eyes of Sirius’, Remus sighed and resolved to mourn his loss of face later.
“Just some things. Pictures and stuff.”
“Let me see!” Sirius said, eagerly, and didn’t wait for Remus’ approval before he stuffed his hand into his right pocket and pulled all the papers out. “Wow, I didn’t even know you had these, Moony!” Smiling broadly, Sirius leafed through the pictures, laughing at each one until he came to the one of Padfoot licking Remus’ cheeks. “I’ll never forget your face when you saw James turn into Prongs,” he said, quietly. “I thought you’d actually had a heart attack.”
“So did I,” Remus admitted, but he smiled anyways. “That was a good day.”
“You cried like a girl,” Sirius teased, earning himself a great big poke in the side.
“So did you, nitwit.” It was true, Sirius had cried, later, when Remus tried again to tell them how much he appreciated their efforts.
“Shut up,” Sirius muttered, and Remus grinned at him. They lay on the bed facing each other, and for the second time in a very short space of time Remus found himself reminded of their younger selves, curled up in bed and talking for hours about everything and nothing. Suddenly he was filled by a warm, fuzzy feeling that put all other warm, fuzzy feelings to shame. How lost would he be without this ridiculous, chaotic boy, all fire and passion and warmth?
“Moony? Everything alright?” Sirius’ forehead was creased, slightly, and Remus smiled again, nodding.
“Yeah. Just thinking.” Sirius rolled his eyes and wiggled his finger at his friend.
“You think too much, Moons.”
“Can’t help it, it’s what happens when your brain actually works. You wouldn’t know.”
Sirius reached out and flicked Remus in the forehead.
“Ow! You bitch.” Remus reached out and brandished his secret weapon - his very exclusive knowledge of Sirius Black’s Ticklish Place.
“Moony! Moony no! It’s not fair, Moony!” Sirius was squirming and wriggling but he was rendered incapable. Remus didn’t often use his knowledge of the Ticklish Place, in fact it had last been used in third year, but when he did use it, he used it to greatest effect.
He just hadn’t really realized that it would reduce Sirius to this gorgeous, writhing mess, and he hadn’t realized what that mess would do to him. All of a sudden the situation came rushing in on him; he was rolling around with Sirius on a bed, their limbs were all tangled and Sirius was giggling and shouting, red cheeked and breathless. Suddenly, Remus couldn’t breathe and his jeans became incredibly tight. He stopped tickling abruptly and rolled off of Sirius, staring resolutely up at the ceiling, and thinking of everything from bubotuber pus to McGonagall naked to try and calm his body down. Next to him, Sirius lay desperately trying to catch his breath - Remus didn’t see him tugging at his robes so that they covered his groin.
“I hate you, Moony,” he gasped. “That’s not fair.”
“You flicked me,” Remus replied, trying desperately to keep his voice even, “In the face.”
“I’m fairly sure you deserved it.”
Remus rolled on to his side, more in control of himself now, and found Sirius facing him as well. They grinned at each other and Remus’ stomach did a somersault. Sirius’ face softened, and Remus’ stomach did a little bit of a jig against his abdomen. In the golden light of the Scottish sunset pouring through the window, raven hair glinted and shone, and aristocratically pale skin took on a beautifully rich, caramel hue. It was breathtaking, he was breathtaking, and every inch of Remus’ skin was aching for him.
Suddenly, Sirius’ hand was brushing Remus’ hair out of his eyes; Remus’ breath caught and he thought he might be sick. Their eyes locked, but look in Sirius’ was illegible to him. Then, as suddenly as it was there, the hand was gone and a glance of something - was it fear? - passed over Sirius’ face, replaced quickly with a cheeky grin.
“Bet James and Peter are still squeezing pustules,” he laughed, and Remus’ breath came rushing back to him. “So, Saturday night. Got a date?”
“Yup.”
“Really?” Sirius’ eyebrows arched. “Who is it? Do I know him?”
“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell, Padfoot - though I suppose that’s a concept lost on you.”
Sirius flashed a rakish grin that Remus thought was oddly strained. “You wound me, Moony.”
“Your reputation’s done the job for me,” Remus quipped. “Come on, it’s dinner time, I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving.” Sirius rolled off the bed and Remus followed. “You can put those pictures back under your floorboard, if you want,” he said casually.
“What?!”
Sirius chuckled, wickedly. “I know everything, Moony, but don’t worry. Your secrets are always safe with me. I’ve got to go talk to McKinnon before dinner, I’ll catch you down there, yeah?”
He whirled out of the room and left Remus to stare at his back in disbelief, and to file that brief moment when Sirius’ hand had brushed his face away safely in a corner of his heart.
“Enough,” he said to himself, taking another deep breath. He was determined to enjoy every moment of his steadily dwindling time at Hogwarts, and he refused to let himself pine for something he would never have. “Enough.”
Author: xkeijukainenx
Recipient: All of you lovelies (hopefully also my dissertation supervisor since I've been doing more work for this than my dissertation. Sigh.)
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,405
Prompt: Day 12
Warnings: Beware of what is perhaps an excessive case of tl;dr. I got carried away. I'm sorry.
Summary: Remus is a closet sentimentalist; Sirius is ticklish.
Author's Notes: This... was meant to be a character study of Remus and then Sirius burst in and got in the way. Typical. Thank you all so much for your comments! I'm so glad you enjoy the mini-series; it's been a very long time since I did any writing that wasn't for university classes and even longer since I got involved in a fandom - it's been fun! :D
Could be a standalone, but in line with the rest of my October tales.
[ 1] [ 2] [ 3] [ 4] [ 5] [ 6] [ 7] [ 8] [ 9] [ 10] [ 11]
"I believe that you've had most of your important memories by the time you're thirty. After that, memory becomes water overflowing into an already full cup. New experiences just don't register in the same way or with the same impact. I could be shooting heroin with the Princess of Wales, naked in a crashing jet, and the experience still couldn't compare to the time the cops chased us after we threw the Taylor's patio furniture into their pool in eleventh grade."
~Douglas Coupland
Hidden away under Remus’ bed was a loose floorboard that you could pry open if you applied just the right amount of force with a muggle screwdriver. It was one of the best kept secrets of Hogwarts. Second possibly only to the Chamber of Secrets (which doesn’t do so well at keeping itself secret, really.)
James and Sirius theorized about the existence of such a floorboard - well, they called it “Moony’s Top Secret Hidey Hole of Mischief and Clandestine Stuff,” for he would never so much as give them the tiniest of hints about it’s whereabouts.
Remus didn’t like being so secretive, but when you lived with two of the nosiest, most entitled, most obnoxiously curious and invasive boys in all of Great Britain, you quickly learned to keep certain things close to your chest.
The two marauders had never had a very good idea of ownership or personal space. Remus, who had always been reticent and introverted as a child, quickly learned that to maintain his own sanity he had to have a corner that was his and only his. So he had spent an entire Saturday during which James and Sirius and Peter were being held hostage in McGonagall’s office under his bed, prying the floorboard up with a screwdriver he’d found in one of the greenhouses.
Remus had eventually grown out of his quiet, shy, rule-toeing nature, with the sometimes rather forceful help of Sirius and James, and he had no intention of ever regressing back to insecurity and docility. He thoroughly enjoyed his new-found confidence, sarcasm, wit and - yes - sexual prowess, and he worked hard to maintain a faultless veneer. His friends saw more than others, but Remus tried hard to avoid emotional weakness, especially around them. They’d had enough of it until third year - they didn’t need any more.
Which is why he went to such great trouble to keep his stash of mementos hidden well away from prying eyes. (Incidentally, the floorboard was also where he hid his actual stash, because Sirius tended to view drugs as items to which the rule “finders keepers” applied.)
Despite trying his hardest to appear - and feel - cool as a cucumber, he was often painfully aware that these were, in a ridiculously cliched way, the best days of their lives; that these were the best days he could ever expect to have. He knew well and good that as soon as he graduated, the halcyon glow that the wizarding world held for him would be irreparably shattered by immovable preconceptions and prejudices that proved thicker than blood. Sirius and James swore up and down - and once until they were blue in the face - that they would take care of him and he’d never have to work a day in his life, but Remus didn’t much fancy being a kept man (especially since he obviously couldn’t pay them back in sexual favors.)
So, valiant attempts to be ‘cool’ not withstanding, Remus remained a secret sentimentalist. He loved his friends for their loyalty and the fierceness of their friendship which - if he was truly honest - he felt he didn’t deserve. He loved every minute of Hogwarts; it was an experience and a privilege he never thought he’d have, and he treasured it dearly. He couldn’t imagine being happier anywhere else.
James, Sirius and Peter were once again locked up in detention. It was a crisp autumn Saturday and Remus took the rare opportunity to throw the windows of the dorm room wide open. He ran at least 10 degrees hotter than his roommates and often was sweltering when they felt the cold; as a result, he could sit happily on the window sill in Scotland in October in his well worn t-shirt and jeans, where most normal people would be wearing several layers and shivering. He took out a few of the pictures and letters he’d pulled from his floorboard and flipped through them, smiling. In one of the pictures, taken by Peter, it was impossible to tell where one boy started and the other began - occasionally a head popped out of the melange to grin and shout something incoherently at Peter before it was grabbed by one of the two other boys and shoved into an armpit. It was of them when they were first years and had just gotten over their awkwardness with each other, resulting in nearly twice daily wrestling matches.
In another picture - a Muggle picture, this one, taken on his old beaten up Holga that he’d bought in a Muggle charity shop for three quid - Sirius and James were mostly naked silhouettes, standing at the edge of the lake near James’ house, summer before last.
There was one picture that, when he saw it, gave him pause, and he stared at it for a long time. Peter had taken this one too, and he had hardly even realized it at the time. He saw his fifth year self, sitting on the edge of the bed with tears tracing his cheeks, and watched as a big black dog yapped and licked them off happily. Remus touched the dog gently with one finger and a small nostalgic smile graced his lips.
Every memory that Remus had of Hogwarts was remarkable in it’s clarity, but none were so clear in his mind as this one. His stomach remembered the flips and twists it did as he watched James disappear before his eyes and being replaced by a large deer with velvety antlers and piercingly intelligent eyes. And he remembered his the feeling in his chest as Sirius morphed into the biggest, most beautiful dog he had ever seen; he felt like his heart was buckling, and he could hardly breathe. Peter completed the performance by becoming a rat. (Remus wasn’t so emotional that he didn’t find the time to think, quickly and guiltily, Poor Peter.)
He didn’t know what to do or say so he did the first thing that came to him - burst out in tears. James reappeared with a small pop and rushed to his side, one arm sliding around his neck. “Moony, don’t you like it? Because, mate, this has taken us years...”
Sirius yapped and leapt up, putting his paws on Remus’ shoulders and licking his face clean. At that, Remus started laughing uncontrollably and flung his arms around Sirius’ doggy neck, burying his face in his lovely thick fur.
“You look ridiculous,” he managed to choke out between his laughter and his tears. “You’re so big you could be a Padfoot.”
Sirius appeared where the dog had been and, pulling out of Remus’ embrace, grinned at him. “Padfoot. I like it.”
“God, we’ll have to get him a collar, you know, James,” Remus said, wiping his eyes, coming back to himself enough to feel a little embarrassed at his emotional display.
“We call James Prongs,” Sirius said, winking. “And Peter can be Wormtail.”
“Oi! That’s a rubbish name.”
“Nah, I reckon it works,” Remus said. He looked around at his friends and smiled shyly. “Thanks, you guys. Thank you so much. I can’t even...”
“Alright, alright, no need to turn into a girl just because we can turn into animals,” Sirius said, kindly. He reached up and used the pad of his thumb to wipe another of Remus’ tears and smiled, his grey eyes twinkling playfully, but full of something deeper, like understanding. Remus’ stomach gave out and it was at that moment that he realized he was ridiculously, completely in horrible, painful, consuming love with Sirius Black.
“Cor, it’s bloody freezing in here!” Remus snapped out of his reverie and hastily hid the pictures, notes and letters in his pocket. He looked up and smiled at Sirius, who had just come bursting in to the room with his usual amount of chaotic energy. Sirius grinned back at him, tossing his dragonhide gloves on his bed. “Moony, what’re you doing? You do remember this is Scotland right? Or are you trying to freeze my bollocks off?”
“Sorry, I was hot.” Remus unfolded himself and climbed off the window sill, flopping down next to Sirius on his bed. “How was detention?”
“Sprout made us milk all the bubotubers in greenhouse five, which, by the way, in case you didn’t know, is magically enlarged. I only got free because one of the little bastards squirted me in the eye and I had to go to Pomfrey to get her to restore my sight.”
Remus looked over at his friend with only a mild amount of surprise and worry (the amount of times Sirius had had to have his eyesight restored was honestly ridiculous) - only to find Sirius staring straight back at him. “What were you looking at, earlier,” Sirius asked, quietly. Unable to avoid the question because his ability to think straight had been stripped by those ridiculous eyes of Sirius’, Remus sighed and resolved to mourn his loss of face later.
“Just some things. Pictures and stuff.”
“Let me see!” Sirius said, eagerly, and didn’t wait for Remus’ approval before he stuffed his hand into his right pocket and pulled all the papers out. “Wow, I didn’t even know you had these, Moony!” Smiling broadly, Sirius leafed through the pictures, laughing at each one until he came to the one of Padfoot licking Remus’ cheeks. “I’ll never forget your face when you saw James turn into Prongs,” he said, quietly. “I thought you’d actually had a heart attack.”
“So did I,” Remus admitted, but he smiled anyways. “That was a good day.”
“You cried like a girl,” Sirius teased, earning himself a great big poke in the side.
“So did you, nitwit.” It was true, Sirius had cried, later, when Remus tried again to tell them how much he appreciated their efforts.
“Shut up,” Sirius muttered, and Remus grinned at him. They lay on the bed facing each other, and for the second time in a very short space of time Remus found himself reminded of their younger selves, curled up in bed and talking for hours about everything and nothing. Suddenly he was filled by a warm, fuzzy feeling that put all other warm, fuzzy feelings to shame. How lost would he be without this ridiculous, chaotic boy, all fire and passion and warmth?
“Moony? Everything alright?” Sirius’ forehead was creased, slightly, and Remus smiled again, nodding.
“Yeah. Just thinking.” Sirius rolled his eyes and wiggled his finger at his friend.
“You think too much, Moons.”
“Can’t help it, it’s what happens when your brain actually works. You wouldn’t know.”
Sirius reached out and flicked Remus in the forehead.
“Ow! You bitch.” Remus reached out and brandished his secret weapon - his very exclusive knowledge of Sirius Black’s Ticklish Place.
“Moony! Moony no! It’s not fair, Moony!” Sirius was squirming and wriggling but he was rendered incapable. Remus didn’t often use his knowledge of the Ticklish Place, in fact it had last been used in third year, but when he did use it, he used it to greatest effect.
He just hadn’t really realized that it would reduce Sirius to this gorgeous, writhing mess, and he hadn’t realized what that mess would do to him. All of a sudden the situation came rushing in on him; he was rolling around with Sirius on a bed, their limbs were all tangled and Sirius was giggling and shouting, red cheeked and breathless. Suddenly, Remus couldn’t breathe and his jeans became incredibly tight. He stopped tickling abruptly and rolled off of Sirius, staring resolutely up at the ceiling, and thinking of everything from bubotuber pus to McGonagall naked to try and calm his body down. Next to him, Sirius lay desperately trying to catch his breath - Remus didn’t see him tugging at his robes so that they covered his groin.
“I hate you, Moony,” he gasped. “That’s not fair.”
“You flicked me,” Remus replied, trying desperately to keep his voice even, “In the face.”
“I’m fairly sure you deserved it.”
Remus rolled on to his side, more in control of himself now, and found Sirius facing him as well. They grinned at each other and Remus’ stomach did a somersault. Sirius’ face softened, and Remus’ stomach did a little bit of a jig against his abdomen. In the golden light of the Scottish sunset pouring through the window, raven hair glinted and shone, and aristocratically pale skin took on a beautifully rich, caramel hue. It was breathtaking, he was breathtaking, and every inch of Remus’ skin was aching for him.
Suddenly, Sirius’ hand was brushing Remus’ hair out of his eyes; Remus’ breath caught and he thought he might be sick. Their eyes locked, but look in Sirius’ was illegible to him. Then, as suddenly as it was there, the hand was gone and a glance of something - was it fear? - passed over Sirius’ face, replaced quickly with a cheeky grin.
“Bet James and Peter are still squeezing pustules,” he laughed, and Remus’ breath came rushing back to him. “So, Saturday night. Got a date?”
“Yup.”
“Really?” Sirius’ eyebrows arched. “Who is it? Do I know him?”
“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell, Padfoot - though I suppose that’s a concept lost on you.”
Sirius flashed a rakish grin that Remus thought was oddly strained. “You wound me, Moony.”
“Your reputation’s done the job for me,” Remus quipped. “Come on, it’s dinner time, I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving.” Sirius rolled off the bed and Remus followed. “You can put those pictures back under your floorboard, if you want,” he said casually.
“What?!”
Sirius chuckled, wickedly. “I know everything, Moony, but don’t worry. Your secrets are always safe with me. I’ve got to go talk to McKinnon before dinner, I’ll catch you down there, yeah?”
He whirled out of the room and left Remus to stare at his back in disbelief, and to file that brief moment when Sirius’ hand had brushed his face away safely in a corner of his heart.
“Enough,” he said to himself, taking another deep breath. He was determined to enjoy every moment of his steadily dwindling time at Hogwarts, and he refused to let himself pine for something he would never have. “Enough.”