All the Young Dudes ( Sirius' Perspective )

Seventh Year : Responsibilities

Monday 9th January 1978

“So it’s just the Ferox letter still to post, then?” Sirius asked, sitting next to Remus in their usual carriage on the Hogwarts Express. He’d gone with him to the muggle post office the day before, to send off two letters—one to his mother, and one to Grant. Moony had written a third letter for Ferox, the old Care of Magical Creatures professor—he’d been very upset to learn that the man had been injured in the Diagon Alley attack. Fortunately, that letter could be sent the usual way: by owl, from the Hogwarts owlery.

“Just the Ferox one,” Remus confirmed, settling into his seat. Peter had rushed off to find Dorcas the moment they boarded the train, and James and Lily had to ride in the prefect’s carriage, which left the remaining two boys completely alone. Sirius decided to take advantage of the space, reclining sideways and stretching his legs out over Remus’s lap. He grinned up, arms behind his head, and Remus raised a brow.

“Make yourself comfortable, why don’t you.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Sirius yawned, then asked, “So, which letter are you most looking forward to getting a reply from?”

“Which reply am I most looking forward to?” Remus shot him a wry smile, “You mean between my battle-wounded ex-teacher, my young-offender ex-boyfriend or the mother who abandoned me?”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Sirius rolled his eyes, “Honestly, the amount of stuff you keep back.”

“Would you rather I was whinging all the time?” Remus pulled out a book, cracking it open on top of Sirius’s legs.

“No,” he sighed, thoughtfully, “But, I mean. If you didn’t have me to talk to about this stuff, I’d be worried your head would explode.”

“It would not explode, thank you very much,” Remus huffed, slapping him lightly with the worn paperback. “You’re so dramatic. I coped perfectly well before you decided to involve yourself.”

“How?!”

“Well.” Remus hesitated, biting his lip. “I er…you’ll think it’s stupid.”

“What?”

“I…make lists, in my head. Benefits and losses. And sometimes I have pretend conversations, you know, to help me work through a problem…”

“Bloody hell, Moony,” Sirius pushed himself up, staring, “You complete nutter.”

This earned a laugh, and Remus rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, ok. Maybe a bit mental.”

Sirius moved his legs, sitting upright so that he could scoot closer on the seat.

“Ever had an imaginary conversation with me?” He rested his chin on the other boy’s shoulder, murmuring the words into his ear.

“No!” Remus replied, shutting his eyes and swallowing as Sirius breathed onto his neck, “I only have imaginary conversations with sensible people.”

“Well,” Sirius leaned even closer, “Maybe that’s where you’re going wrong…” he began to kiss him, softly, just behind the earlobe. Moony squirmed, dropping his book, and Sirius felt a slow pulse of heat creeping through his blood at the stifled noise that Remus made.