Another point of view

Chapter 4

Remus POV

Remus didn't see Sirius that day. He didn't know if it was because he avoided him, or if it was Sirius. Or maybe both of them did. The last time he saw him was when he woke up that morning and Sirius was still asleep in his bed. The room was empty except for them, so Remus had quickly gotten dressed and went down to breakfast before he would have to deal with his sleeping friend.

James cheered him up a little, but he was still afraid and avoided meeting Sirius. Remus just didn't like to talk about these kinds of things. It was hard for him to express himself with words, and he just didn't like that people knew too much about him (even if, technically, it was James and not him this time.)

But despite all this, a warm feeling escorted him that day. Sirius loved him. He hadn't said it literally, but it'd definitely hinted from his words.

Remus didn't know how to deal with this knowledge, which frightened him and made him happy at the same time. He knew he couldn't do anything about it yet, and that from now on he would have to be more careful around Sirius.

He spent most of the day in a back corner of the library, at first with James and then by himself. The essay for Professor Kenley was done long ago, and eventually, Remus decided it was time for him to go back to Gryffindor tower. He gathered his things into James' heavy bag and left the library.

It was already late in the afternoon and Remus decided it was time for him and Sirius to talk. It had to happen sooner or later and now was the later.

But while he was doing his way to Gryffindor's common room he noticed a bright-haired guy running towards him, with a smile on his face and a broom in his hand.

"Hey, Moony!" he said, and Remus smiled at him. "I thought I should help you practice before you'll make a fool out of yourself, what will be a pity since you'll actually make a fool out of me." James threw the broom to Remus, who caught it in concern.

"Um..." he mumbled and looked at the broom in his hand. It was long and made out of oak. James had got it on his last birthday from his parents and was very proud of it. "Oh, alright." He agreed to James' offer, mostly because he didn't want to come to his first practice with the team and not be ready.

They walked together to the Quidditch field, trying not to bump into anyone. James took one of the school's old brooms from the small broom's closet, and also brought the big red ball; the Quaffle. They arrived at the centre of the field, each holding his broom.

"Alright," said James, "put the broom down and say, 'up!'"

Remus did as he was told, but the broom didn't move.

"Try again," ordered James, though he sounded much less enthusiastic.

Remus tried, but couldn't do it right.

James stared at the broom in frustration. Remus was nervous too, but not because of his failure. He knew this would happen, exactly like in their first year, so it wasn't a surprise he couldn't do it now. He was afraid of the flight he knew was going to come.

"Well, just grab it." Finally, James gave up, and Remus sighed and picked up the broom.

He sat on it, imitating James' moves, while a strange feeling, like excitement, started to fill him.

"On my count," said James and bend down. Remus did the same. "Three, two, one, now!"

Remus kicked his legs in the ground and then felt himself rise up in the air. He looked down but regretted it immediately; everything seemed so small and far away from that high.