Remus overslept the next morning, and would have missed breakfast if Peter hadn't shouted his name about a hundred times before leaving himself. As the door slammed, Remus rolled onto his back and stared at a chink of light coming through his curtains. He had slept badly, and resigned himself to sleeping badly every night until he'd got this ridiculous Sirius thing out of his system.
The first thing to do was to stop thinking about it, he told himself, sternly, jumping up out of bed and heading straight for the shower. Cold as he could stand it. James and Sirius must have left early for quidditch. A memory of Sirius in his scarlet robes surfaced; hair pulled back, face glistening, that energetic, competitive glint in his eyes. Remus groaned, and turned the shower knob all the way down from lukewarm to icy.
He forced himself to think about something else - Charms, or Arithmancy, or History... yes, he found that listing off the names of the generals involved in each side of the Great Goblin revolt of 1642 seemed to calm him down a bit. Gave him something to focus on anyway. You couldn't have lustful thoughts with names like 'Krebshunk' and 'Frip the Disembowler' running through your head.
He dressed and headed down for breakfast. Their first lesson was Transfiguration, and you could never get away with being late for McGonagall. In the Great Hall, Peter was sitting at the Ravenclaw table with Desdemona, and they were clearly getting reacquainted after a very long summer apart. Remus sighed a little, inwardly, remembering how that felt. It was even worse to watch other couples snogging when you knew what you were missing.
Sirius and James were at the Gryffindor table, both dressed in their school uniform, but decidedly rumpled from practice. Their body language was very out of character; Sirius was turned away from James, nose in the air, James looked furtive and wound up - if Remus didn't know better, he'd have thought they were in the middle of a row.
As he sat down opposite his two friends, he found that his first impression had been correct. They were sitting in stony silence, and it was clear that Sirius was being very stubborn about something.
"Morning." Remus said, tentatively, reaching for some toast and jam.
"Morning, your prefect-ness," Sirius replied, with half a smile. He was pouring spoonful after spoonful of brown sugar into his porridge.
"Hiya, Moony," James said, glancing over at him briefly before turning back to Sirius. He looked worn out, stressed. It did not suit him. "Sirius." He said, very seriously.
Sirius ignored him. "Sirius." James repeated, louder.
"Not now, Potter. I'm busy."
"You're playing with your breakfast." James wrinkled his nose, "And please don't eat that, my teeth hurt just looking at it."
Remus thought it looked good, actually. He liked very sweet things, especially when he was in a bad mood. He kept this opinion to himself. Best not to get involved, where James and Sirius were concerned.
Sirius finished pouring his last teaspoon of sugar, stirred it vigorously, until the mixture had turned the texture and colour of sand. He scooped up a heaped spoonful, then - making eye contact with James the whole time - shoved it in his mouth and chewed. Remus could hear the grains of sugar crunching between his teeth. James shook his head,
"You don't have to be like that, I'm not Regulus." He said, grumpily.
Sirius scowled at him, then stood up.
"Gotta go to the library." He said, his mouth still full of oversweet porridge. "See you in Transfiguration."
James sighed, heavily, watching Sirius leave. Remus breathed a small sigh of relief, but felt immediately guilty about it. There was obviously something wrong with his friend, and he ought to be as concerned as James.
