For Strippedhalo

There was a little tuft of hair at the back of Remus' head that stuck up insistently when he forgot to brush it, which was often what with O.W.L.s approaching--it wasn't that Sirius wasn't going to study, it was just that he'd study later. Sirius had always been good at pulling all-nighters and walking out on top. Remus, though. Remus started studying something like six months ahead of time. Remus had charts, and schedules, and chewed thoughtfully on his quill and it wasn't even a Sugarquill, it was real. His lower lip stuck out just a little, and when he needed to underline something he pulled the quill out of his mouth and flicked his tongue, just for a second.

Not that Sirius would be watching Remus' tongue normally, of course not, it was all James' fault. Sirius loved James like a brother, better even (though he shoved that thought guiltily aside when Regulus came to him last year, sobbing, missing home and complaining that some of the Slytherins beat him up whenever Sirius beat up Snape. He'd put an end to that quickly--any time Reg got beaten, Snivellus and his friends got hurt twice as bad, at least. No one messed with a Black.) but if James didn't shut up about Evans, he was seriously going to lose it.

Which was the *only* reason he found himself counting the seconds between pink flashes.

Remus was sitting on the floor, back to the wall, one leg bent to prop up his text book. His hair, which was getting a little too long, kept falling in his face, and he'd push it back impatiently, revealing in the process a small stretch of skin on his wrist. He alternated, hair push, lip lick, wrist, tongue. Not that Sirius was staring.

"So I'm thinking of asking her to Hogsmeade this weekend, what do you think, Pads?"

"Huh?"

"Evans. Me. Hogsmeade." James shoved him, which meant that before Sirius could answer he had to shove back, and the next thing he knew he was under a table, an arm around James' head, one leg caught in James' hands, and someone else entirely kicking him in the ribs.

"I'm trying to *study*, you morons." Evans. Of course. "If you're going to disturb people, go wrestle in your room. God!"

"Oh, hey." James grinned up at her, releasing Sirius. Sirius promptly locked his legs around James' waist and rolled. "I was wondering," James said, pulling Sirius' arm away from his throat, "if you'd go to Hogsmeade with me?"

"Ask me again when your face isn't purple."

Sirius, being the good mate he was, let James go after a proper declaration that Sirius was the Mighty Ruler of Marauderland.

"Right," James said, running a hand through his hair. Remus, putting his book away, mimicked the motion. "So, will you?"

"Will I what?" Evans looked up from her notes. Next to her, the Midgen girl--Annie?--giggled.

"Will you go to Hogsmeade with me?"

"Are you taking the piss? 'Cause I swear, Potter--"

"Not," James said. "Honest, Evans."

"Oh," Evans said. "No."

Patricia Fudge and Lavinia Travers burst out laughing. Sirius draped an arm over James' shoulder. "C'me on, Jamie. I've got this idea about Snivellus."

James' eyes lit up. Sirius grinned at him. Who cared about some stupid girls, anyway?

* * *

Butterbeer was clearly invented by an evil old goblin of a wizard. Someone like Professor Flitwick, only with a black twirly mustache and sinister intentions. Someone who enjoyed watching young boys raise a glass and swallow, enjoyed watching their tongues slide over their upper lips, clearing the foam, someone who was not at all like Sirius.

"I have to go," he said.

"What?" James stared at him, which was the sign that he'd something off, because he and James shared a brain. Everyone said so.

"Prank. I have to go. Prank."

"We just planted the dungbombs in Snape's bag," Peter said. Peter was snuggled comfortably into his seat by the fire, a brand new butterbeer in front of him. He had on a turtleneck, a jumper, robes, and his cloak, not to mention a scarf and mittens. Peter got cold easily.

"You don't have to come," Sirius said, perhaps a little too nastily judging by Remus' reproachful gaze. He didn't need Remus gazing at him anyway. There was more than enough gazing going on already. Too much. "Probably scare you, anyway."

"Wicked," James said. "I'm in."

"No! I mean. Surprise. You'll see tonight. Spectactular."

He threw on his cloak and gloves, and was out the door before he could dig any bigger a hole. This was starting to get ridiculous./

* * *

It didn't stop.

The noticing Remus thing.

Of course, on full moons they were supposed to notice Remus, they were supposed to keep him away from campus, herd him towards the forest, but somehow Sirius suspected that they were *not* supposed to admire Moony's muscletone as he ran across the grass, the arc of his tail, the quick shift of feet, his tongue hanging out--again, his *tongue*.

He needed a new fixation.

* * *

Remus had very long fingers. Long, graceful fingers.

He only noticed them because of the ink stains down his right hand.

* * *

"Hey, Pads?" James flopped onto Sirius' bed, shoving him over. Sirius had been lying there, hands behind his head, not thinking about Remus.

"Hm?"

"You're not mad at Moony, are you?"

"No," Sirius said. "Don't be stupid."

"It's just." James picked at the knee of his jeans, expanding the whole he'd been working on since Christmas. "You've been staring at him a lot."

"Have not," Sirius said. He poked James in the ribs. "Jealous?"

"What? No!" James said.

"You're my best mate," Sirius said.

"I know."

"Hey, Jamie?" He rolled over onto his stomach. "I was thinking."

"Uh-oh." James rolled over as well, half on top of him, and rested his chin on Sirius' shoulder. "What is it?"

"Iwasthinkingaboutgoinghomewithyouattheendoftheyear."

"Wicked," James said. "So you're not mad at Moony?"

"No," Sirius said. "I'm not."

* * *

"She turned me down again." James squeezed into Sirius chair in their corner of the Common Room, and stared at Evans. "I don't get it."

"I dunno," Sirius said. He was busy not looking at Remus and Peter play gobstones. "Hey, Prongs?"

Evans walked by, talking loudly to Lavinia and Amy--Alice?--Midgen. "--*total* arsehole--"

James sighed loudly. "Yeah?" he said.

Peter screeched as he was drenched in yellow liquid. Remus caught Sirius' eye, grinning madly.

"Sirius?"

"Nothing," Sirius said.

* * *

"And so in 1463, the Goblin leader Sharpcut..."

Sirius looked down at the note James had passed him. It had to be more interesting than Binns.

I was thinking maybe if I sent Evans flowers--or not.

Isn't it your turn to take notes? Sirius passed the paper back. It made a loud crackling nose, but he'd stopped worrying about being noticed back in second year. Binns was half-deaf. Apparently he didn't get his hearing back when he died. It seemed unfair somehow, to be a ghost *and* unable to hear, but Sirius didn't let that stop him from taking full advantage.

Moony's doing it.

He looked up. Sure enough, there was Remus by the window, quill scratching. His hair still needed trimming. It was shaggy. Not cute, definitely not. Just shaggy. He looked a little like an overgrown puppy. Only more human. Remus didn't like animal metaphors; he was a bit stupid that way.

Write her a poem, Sirius responded, mostly to see if he could get James to do it.

I'm not daft, Pads

No, seriously. Dear Evans: Your hair is red, your eyes are green...

Sirius is dead, for being so mean.

I never saw a face so fair

I never gagged so hard

Until I saw you sitting there

And punched Pads in the jaw.

Hard and jaw don't rhyme, doofus.

Come over here and call me that.

Oh Lark! Oh dove! Oh sweetly cooing bird!
How my days meant nothing till you flew
Into my larder. Now your word
Your twitter, your "love you"
now your face by tears in my sight blurred
I cannot live without. Adieu! Adieu!
No gladness have I, straining, heard
Fall from your beak. Adieu! Adieu! Adieu!

That's actually kind of good, James wrote back. Mind if I borrow it?

Sirius watched Remus dip his head, watched the line of his neck as he bent over parchment, fingers delicate on his quill, tongue peeking out from between his teeth.

Sure.

Remus leaned back in his chair again, and Sirius swallowed.

Not like I need it, he wrote.

* * *

"I need to get Evans alone," James said. "If I can get her alone, I *know* I can make her pay attention."

"I think her paying attention to you is the problem, mate." Sirius grinned, ducking James' swat.

"Tomorrow night, Pete's got remedial potions, right? Could you keep Remus busy? Do the thing to the Slyths we talked about."

"Yeah?" Sirius said.

"I don't mind."

Sirius laughed. "Thanks ever so much," he said.

"You want my cloak?"

"The map'll be plenty."

"Don't get caught," James said.

"Do I ever?"

* * *

"We're going to get caught," Remus said.

"We are not."

"We're going to get caught, and I'm going to lose my Prefect badge."

"I just need another moment." Sirius pressed his want tip to the underside of the Slytherin table, murmuring under his breath.

"I'll blame it all on you." Remus slipped under the table and sat cross-legged next to him. "See if I don't."

"You're supposed to be keeping lookout."

"I can see the map just as well from here. Lumos. See?"

"Show-off," Sirius muttered.

Remus laughed. "You're the one who's--what *are* you doing?"

"If I hex the table from under here, no one'll see.

"Yes, but what are you hexing?"

"The table."

"Padfoot."

Sirius grinned. He leaned back on his elbows, so he could look Remus in the eye, rather than seeing the bottom of his chin. Not that it wasn't a rather nice chin...

"I've turned the table into a portkey to the third floor toilet."

"Sirius! Unlawful portkeys are punishable by time in *Azkaban*."

"Who's gonna punish a kid?"

"That's not the point," Remus said. He lowered his want to his lap, where it showed off his hands. Those hands, which Sirius could see reaching out, unbuttoning his shirt, sliding up to his shoulder...

Sirius sat up, careful not to bang his head. "Remus?"

"Yes, convict number 7463?"

Sirius leaned forward, quick, before Remus could move, and kissed him.

"Sirius."

"I know." He lay down again. The underside of the table had a lot of gum on it--Slytherins were a disgusting lot, really. "It's alright.

"It's just," Remus said, "that I don't, you know. Dally."

"Dally?"

"Shut up. I just." Remus leaned over him. "You're gonna go find Alexandra Midgen tomorrow, or Selena Farraday, and I'm not going to be anyone."

"You're going to be Moony," Sirius said.

"Sirius--"

"You're always going to be Moony." Sirius grabbed Remus' arms. "You're stupid," he said.

"Oh, that's the way to win a bloke."

"Sorry, but you are." He pulled Remus down, flipped over on top of him. "You're Moony," he said, and kissed Remus again. "Idiot."

"Sorry," Remus said. He tasted like the chocolate biscuits they'd gotten off the house-elves after dinner. Sirius slid a hand along his back, under his robes.

"Well, well, well. And what do we have here, my sweet?"

Remus rolled off him, and they both looked up at Argus Filch.

"James is never going to let me live this down," Sirius said.

"Come on, lads. I'm sure Professor McGonagall will be *very* interested in your explanation."

Remus sat up first, and Sirius used the cover to wipe the Map clean.

"What's that?" Filch grabbed the paper from Sirius' hands and straightened up, hitting the table in the process.

Sirius glanced at Remus, and then at the empty spot where Filch had been, then back at Remus. Mrs. Norris hissed.

"Last one back to the tower explains how we lost the map!" Sirius took off running, feet pounding down the hallway. Remus laughed, and followed.

* * *

"Oh," James said. He had a bright red hand-print on his face. "Congratulations."

"Hey." Sirius climbed over him onto the couch. "Prongs."

"No, I. I mean it."

"Prongs," Sirius said. He nudged James' thigh with his foot. "She'll come around."

"When Hell freezes over," James said.

"I saw a book on weather-magic in the Restricted Section."

"Yeah?" James said.

Sirius nodded.

"We still on for this summer?"

"If you don't hate me for all eternity for losing the map we spent half of first year creating."

James shrugged. "I have an Invisbility Cloak," he said. "Besides, if I hated you forever, I'd be stuck with Pete as my best mate."

Sirius shuddered. "A fate worse than death," he said.

In the corner of the common room, Remus bent over Pete's shoulder, re-explaining whatever he'd failed to grasp in Potions.

"This summer'll be wicked, yeah?"

"Yeah," James said. "Hey, and Moony could come over, you know. When it's not that time of month."

"He's not a *girl*," Sirius said.

James grinned at him. "So I gathered, Padfoot."

* * *

James convinced Peter they had to study, so Sirius had Moony all to himself. He nudged Moony with his nose, lead the way outside. As always, Moony moved first towards the town, then the campus, but when Sirius turned towards the Forest, he trotted alongside him.

Sirius turned his head suddenly, licked Moony's cheek. The werewolf sat back, startled, but when Sirius leaned forward again, Moony let him. He fancied for a moment he saw affection inside Moony's eyes, as he raised his head and howled at the sky.

Remus howled with him.