Carve Me Open / r.l. + s.b. /

Selfish

"& how can something as simple as the idea of you & me /

turn everything twice as complicated than how it's meant to be?"-Unknown

A/N: Couple more band-aids. You know what? I'm gonna call them stitches. Why? Because there's more than one and they've gotta be taken out one at a time. So. A few more stitches and we'll be good. Also, this song is one of my favorites... probably one of the best songs for early Wolfstar imo...

And now... the moment you've all been waiting for. I've put it off long enough. Extra long chapter.

Major Edits Complete as of March 16, 2022

▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬

Hogwarts, March 1974

Sirius and James had a reputation for being tough on the Quidditch pitch. The forthcoming game - the season's last game – had been approaching, and to Remus' relief, the duo found themselves without the company of their other friends as they spent the remaining of their spare time training. It was the year's most anticipated game; the one that determined who would win the Quidditch finals. Slytherin vs. Gryffindor.

Sirius and James had slept in on the day of the game. Their captain had them practice until eight o'clock at night, with just a little break for dinner, leaving them very little time to complete their essays and assignments. Who could blame them for taking a little more time to relax up before the game?

Their leader. Strix. The alpha male. One of James Potter's rivals. It was beyond anyone's comprehension that two guys from the same house could have a feud. All they knew was that the two despised one other, and James was vying to be Quidditch Captain after Strix graduated. James pretended he was still irritated by the robe incident from his freshman year and told everyone he could 'sod off.'

James and Sirius walked across the Great Hall languidly, their eyes brimming with sleep and yawns flooding their jaws. Peter eagerly greeted them, filling their empty plates with all of their favorite delicacies. Breakfast consisted of sausages, eggs, bacon, toast, marmalade, and potatoes. Remember! Growing boys, according to his mother, require a lot of food. Perhaps that's why he'd already gone through three pairs of trousers that year. He shrugged and resumed eating as he gazed down at his stomach.

Remus sat across from Peter, his eyes aloof and cautious, and he sipped his tea and read his book gently. He entirely ignored Sirius' attendance and merely offered James a small nod of acknowledgement. Sirius, for his part, sneered at the cover, as if it had been the source of Remus' displeasure. Following the event in the common room, this kind of attitude had become rather regular between the two teenagers. There was no bad blood between James, Remus, and Peter; they'd gotten along just fine. His relationship with Sirius, on the other hand, was deteriorating by the minute.

James yawned, "Pe', you comi' who da game?"

Peter stopped chewing, raising a quizzical brow.

"Pete, are you coming to the game," Remus clarified dully, turning a page quietly. Sirius was still staring at Remus with hot eyes, nostrils flaring silently. If looks could kill, Allen Ginsberg would've dropped dead. James, noticing this, prodded him with his fork. "Staring is rude, Sirius."

Everyone was stunned and panicked. For the first time in over a month, Remus pleasantly greeted Sirius. Not that Remus was ever unpleasant, but this was preferable to the alternative: brazenly dismissing him. Remus, James reasoned, could have been giving Sirius a taste of his own medicine – Remus was cunning like that – and the message was definitely received if he was reading this properly. Perhaps this schism will close soon, and everything would return to normal.