Casanova (Male Oc Insert)

Scar's

Flying lessons was probably one of my favorite classes, especially since I was eager to join the Quidditch team as soon as possible. The thrill of soaring through the air on my broomstick was an excitement I couldn’t wait to experience.

The night before had brought a steady rain, leaving the ground soft and muddy. We changed out of our usual lace-up shoes, opting for thick, sturdy boots and scarlet flying kits that glinted in the overcast light. As we squelched across the pitch, the brooms provided by the school stood in neat rows, waiting to be mounted. First years weren’t permitted to bring their brooms, but James was always keen to boast about having a top-of-the-line model resting at home.

“Right, mount your brooms, ladies and gentlemen!” Madam Hooch bellowed, her voice cutting through the chilly air. “There’s a nice strong wind today, so take care. Potter, no showing off!”

As I completed my fourth lap, I spotted Remus and Sirius flying side by side, their expressions a mix of concentration and camaraderie. I couldn’t resist the urge to glide over and join them. “Having fun?” Sirius flashed a mischievous grin at Remus.

“What are you doing?” Remus frowned, clearly struggling to hold onto his focus. “Trying to lose?”

“James is gonna win,” Sirius shrugged nonchalantly. “I might as well let him have his moment. Thought I’d hang out with you.”

“Why?!” Remus shot back, visibly frustrated through gritted teeth.

“Thought you might want the company,” Sirius replied with a playful smirk, causing me to laugh.

“Hiya, Remus! I hope you want some more company because I’m here too!” I chimed in, my smile wide and bright. “Plus, we’re about to land, and I know how much you hate landing.”

“Piss off.”

“Not a chance.”

“I’m warning you, Black…”

“You can’t punch me up here, Lupin, unless you want to let go of your broom,” Sirius retorted with a cheeky laugh.

“God, you’re annoying.”

“Yep.” Sirius spun in front of Remus and then soared around him in a perfect circle. I joined in, circling our friend as well. “Even if you hit one of us, you can’t hit both,” I teased, smirking at Remus.

“Piss off, Black.”

I placed my hand dramatically over my heart. “I’m hurt, Remus. Truly hurt.” He shot me a death glare that only made me grin wider.

“Time to land... remember to stick your legs out and lean back. Then bend your knees as you hit the—oi!” Remus yanked the tail of Sirius’ broom, pulling it sharply downwards.

Laughing, Sirius regained his balance and darted back to Remus’ side, delivering a playful shove. Remus shook but held on tightly, managing a surprisingly smooth descent. Leaning back, he twisted swiftly to give Sirius a return push.

“Out of my way!” he yelled, determination etched on his face. “You can be the last down for once!”

“Not happening; you’re both last!” I retorted, yanking at them both as I joined in the chaotic fun.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Sirius laughed, grabbing the tail of Remus’ broom and tugging him backward. This playful wrestling was fun, but it was risky, and we were growing dangerously close to the ground.

In an instant, our laughter turned into a collective gasp as we tumbled towards the earth. Brooms flew from beneath us as we crash-landed into a massive puddle, the cold mud splattering everywhere and soaking our robes through.

“Black! Lupin! Black!” Madam Hooch’s stern voice rang out as she marched over to the two boys sprawled in the muck. The other Gryffindors gathered around, giggling and pointing at our messy predicament.

Sirius leaped to his feet, attempting to salvage some semblance of dignity, pulling Remus up roughly by the hand. Together, they turned their muddy faces toward Madam Hooch, blinking droplets from their eyes.

“What did I say about minding the puddle?” she asked, raising an amused eyebrow, a hint of a smile dancing on her lips. She always had a way of finding humor in our chaos. “A point each from Gryffindor. You’d better go wash off in the showers. Off you go.”

We waddled towards the Quidditch changing rooms, our heavy, waterlogged robes dragging behind us.

“Bloody ridiculous kit,” Remus grumbled as we stepped into the squat, little stone building.

“The house elves will take care of that,” Sirius replied with a shrug, shaking off his robe and tossing it into a pile in the corner. I soon followed suit, shaking my robe off and hanging it up to dry.

As I showered, rubbing my long, curly hair, I hurried to finish and began putting my trousers on when Lupin emerged from the shower. The sight of his scars was striking—a patchwork of stories etched into his skin, mirroring the long jagged scars I bore.

“We’re twinning,” I said with a playful grin.

“What?” he said, startled, instinctively covering his scars.

“The scars—we both have them,” I pointed out, showing him the rough, jagged marks that ran down my torso, each one a testament to struggles, unlike the clean lines of Sirius’ scars that only ran along his calf, remnants of a lesser punishment from a kinder parent.

Before Remus could respond, Sirius burst in, eyes wide. “What’s that?!” he exclaimed, pointing at the long silver stripe that stretched diagonally across Remus’ chest.

Remus fumbled with his buttons, face flushing as he mumbled, “A scar.”

There was a weight in the air; there was no point trying to explain. The scars were just part of him now, as familiar as his freckles or the fine hairs on his arms.

“It’s… did it happen to you at home? Where you grew up?” Sirius asked, his voice laced with an emotion I couldn’t quite place.

Remus, unable to find the words, simply nodded.

Sirius nodded in understanding. “I’ve got scars, too.” He bent down, pulling up his trouser leg to reveal thin, silver stripes on the back of his ankle.

Unlike Remus’ and mine, with their rough edges and jagged persistence, Sirius’ marks were delicate but no less significant, like unspoken stories woven into the threads of his being.