1st September 1975
1st September 1975
The summer had passed in what felt like a breath - he didn’t remember much. Summer at the Grimmauld Place were often the same: dinners with aristocratic and political figures, piano recitals, tutoring from the early hours of the day until he could barely keep his eyes open. This summer had passed just the same as he’d thought it would. His parents had cursed him only a couple of times, which seemed like a victory in his opinion. They had grown stricter, if that was even a possibility, and he could barely stand up without being reprimanded. He spoke to Regulus seldom in front of his parents, their relationship lasted the hours in which the house was barren from scolding and curses - only the latest hours of the day. Though, unwilling to dwell on the uneventful weeks passed, Sirius picked at his fingers and stared out of the tinted windows at the streets of London.
A manicured, yet sinister hand swatted at his fingers, “I told you to stop it boy, can’t you behave for a few more moments,” his mother’s refined voice sharp in his ears. “Sorry, mother,” a feeble voice escaped him, and they passed the rest of the car ride in painful silence.
//
“SIRIUS, HEY SIRIUS!” A voice fraught with glee caught his attention, though it would be difficult not to pay attention as everybody in the surrounding area was staring at the boy causing the scene. Once he had realised that it was James, the glare left his face and it was quickly replaced with an expression of joy as he ran up to him. Catching him in a tight hug the boy asked, “Missed you mate, how you been?” James was alone, surprising as usually Mr. and Mrs. Potter would remain firmly by their son’s side until he was dragged away from them by the other boys. Pulling away from James, he picked his case back up, “Hm good, good, I should be asking you! How was Spain?”
They continued chatting, until somebody caught James’ eye- “HEY, HEY REMUS! Oh-”
Besides Remus stood a boy, around 5’10, seeming around two inches shorter than Remus. Eyes like ice and hair crowded around his forehead, slight stubble on his upper lip. He looked a bit older, and far too interested in Remus. For Merlin’s sake, he looked like he was in love with him or some stupid shit like that. Sirius felt stuck in time, who was that boy? How did he know Remus? How long had they been friends? Were they more than friends? Wai- Is Remus even gay? Shit, why do I care, I’m not gay. Fuck, am I gay?
No, shit, what, fuck.
Remus could have friends outside of Hogwarts, it was inevitable and Sirius had to deal with it. Though it was hard when they looked like that together...
//
Head against the wall, he began counting the specks of colour on the ceiling. Remus was taking forever, and Sirius had grown tired. He wondered what the specks even were, he was up to 47 and began to worry as to what happened in this carriage when they weren’t in it. Just then, as if he had manifested it into existence, Remus finally arrived. He could tell this by the fact that James and Peter immediately gained lost energy and began talking like their lives depended on it, you know what, maybe I am supposed to be a Slytherin because, Merlin, Gryffindors could piss you off. As he heard Remus place his case away, he decided to see if he could sneak a glance - Merlin he hadn’t really seen the boy, not properly, in over two months and he was growing impatient, beauty deserves an audience, and Remus was well fit. Turning his head, he took in the sight of the boy and- well fuck ,Sirius didn’t really know what had happened to him following that.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckkkkkk
How did he get fitter, this truly is not fair. Well, it is fair because I must be blessed to see this, everyday for the next year.. Over the 2 months, Remus had changed- no, changed wasn’t the appropriate word for this marvel. Remus had metamorphosised like a fucking butterfly from a cacoon.. Though that would imply that he was ugly prior to that, and that was far from the truth. He had grown a couple inches, the werewolf thing worked wonders for growth, clearly. His brownish curls had grown into a sort of mullet- fuck it looked good on him, and Merlin, he got his ear pierced, that’s fucking hot. He’d gained a silvery scar that dragged its way across his neck, into his jaw- I bet it’d be nice to kiss it. No, not gay. He wore an Oxford shirt, the top button undone, the bottom of it half tucked into black trousers, wearing his favourite wingtip boots - “Don’t they look cool, I think they do- well no you’re a swot so you have like fifty of these, but fuck aren’t these majesti- yes you’re majestic too Sirius, but the fucking boots lad.” The undone button served as a grateful window to his collarbone, and Merlin, fuck that’s a tattoo. Two stars, well fuck that’s cute, wait didn’t that skint kid he was with earlier have that, oh that little shi-
Shit.
Have I been staring this whole fucking time.
Shutting his mouth and turning his head, he mentally went through various ways to save himself from embarrassment ranging from: drowning himself in the Black Lake, stabbing everyone in the carriage, leaving the train and getting run over, really anything that would end it. He decided it best to ignore Remus for the rest of the train ride, and ignoring the entire event.