Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

September 20th

Remus always rose before his friends, and he did again this morning. He woke up confused, however, it felt like something very heavy was pinning him down: Sirius. For a minute, Remus let himself admire the other boy. He looked so peaceful while he slept; there was hardly any evidence of the monstrous abuse he'd suffered. He seemed so docile; he wasn't giving dirty looks or offering himself up to take the brute of Remus' problems. Remus didn't spend much time looking at other parts of Sirius, like where the trail of hickeys started on his neck to where they disappeared below the collar of his t shirt. Remus also didn't spend a lot of time noticing how some of them where already fading, but others were vibrant enough to have been acquired last night. Probably were. Seriously though, Remus didn't spent much time thinking about these things. Remus did however successfully haul himself out of bed without waking Sirius.

The common room was as busy as could be expected for eight am. It seemed full of first and second years, and Remus assumed that they had some sort of morning class. He was greeted by a few of them as they scurried around the room. For a while, it seemed as though Remus wasn't sporting awful new scars. So much so that he actually forgot he was.

But he was, and he was soon reminded so when a very timid looking first year couldn't stop staring. Remus tried to smile at him, and the boy barely managed to smile back.

After a while of stealing glances of Remus, the boy walked over to him. "Hi, he said nervously, "um your friend said not to ask questions, but, um," the boy was stumbling over his words, "I-I think you're a werewolf."

Remus' face hardened initially, and the boy continued talking.

"But um you don't have to tell me, I-I know it's hard. My dad, he got bit three years ago. And I just wanted to let you know that I don't think you're a bad person. My dad's not either, he's the same good person he was before. I mean we don't get to see him as much, but we still love him."

Honestly, Remus was touched by the entire conversation. "Thank you," he said, "what's your name?"

"Um- Mike,"

"Well, Mike, it was nice talking to you, but you'd better get to class."

The boy nodded furiously and smiled. He then made his way towards the portrait hole and waved goodbye to Remus before stepping through.

"Who's that?" A sleepy voice asked from behind Remus, it was Peter.

"Mike is his name. He was just asking me for some pointers for their mandrake unit in herbology." Remus lied, he had no idea if they were studying mandrakes or if Mike even had herbology this term.

"Okay. And why is Sirius in your bed?"

"All these questions so early in the morning?" Remus groaned because he had no better answer for his friend.

Peter wanted a better answer, but hated prying, so he just shrugged and made a mental note to ask Sirius about it later.

As soon as Sirius plodded down the stairs, Peter bombarded him with the question. "Why did you sleep in Remus' bed?"

"Are we 11 again?" Sirius asked, annoyed.

"No, but. But now, Remus likes-"

"I liked boys then too, Peter," Remus interjected, "besides, it wasn't like that."

Sirius felt his heart drop slightly. This reaction didn't even surprise him anymore. It's not the first time he felt flustered or jealous about something Remus said or did. It wasn't Remus' fault though, he didn't know his best friend was pining over him.

Sirius was scared at first, and for good reasons, or so he thought. For one, Sirius never really felt the desire to actually be with someone before. Second, his best  friend? Sirius wasn't gay, right? Maybe he was bisexual, but he never really felt the way he felt towards Remus towards a girl, but he did find girls attractive. Now, Sirius was confused, and frustrated, very frustrated. And no matter how rational he tried to be with himself, he couldn't shake his feelings for Remus. He was good at hiding them, however. Sirius had always been good at shoving his feelings down.