Realizations and Recollections
Over the course of the next two weeks, Sirius had learned a lot about the behaviors of his roommates.
James Potter insisted on putting a ruthless amount of pepper on just about anything he ate, regardless of if the combination even made any sense. (“It’s good! Don’t knock it till you try it!”) He was also very particular about keeping their shared bathroom clean.
When it came to the dorm room, he was the most messy and disorganized by a long shot, though declared that everything should always be in order in the place they brushed their teeth.
He started his mornings at 7 o’clock sharp, wore mis-matched socks more days than not, and his mood varied greatly depending on his interactions with the mystery red-headed girl: Lily Evans. Annoyingly, every now and again he would speak in his “secret language” with Remus, and Sirius had yet to decipher what any of it meant.
Peter Pettigrew was quiet when he was happy, and talkative when he was nervous- shy with strangers, and outgoing with friends. Despite his sweet disposition, he had some sharp comebacks up his sleeve, and could be quite funny with the right crowd. He insisted on a long and complex stretching routine every day, which he attempted to make the other boys join, but usually failed at that part. (James and Remus always groaned, looking away, whenever he would do the splits.)
He was also wicked good at almost any game you could play with a board or a deck of cards. In fact, Sirius and James had taken to teaming up against him in anything they played, and no one would even bother to play chess with him anymore.
Remus Lupin, it turned out, had brought his own records with him as well, though a single glance at the covers would tell you they were nothing like the classical music Sirius had brought. They were the vulgar, loud, homosexual kind he wasn’t allowed to listen to.
He would leave the room whenever Remus would put them on.
Sirius had also learned quickly that, indeed, Remus did not eat much in the mornings. In fact, he didn’t eat much at all. (At least, not by athlete standards.)
“Are you on a cut right now, mate?” James would ask.
“No. I’m just not very hungry.” He would respond.
He loved reading books, usually wore large woolen jumpers, and would tell off James for wearing shoes inside of the dorm room. He was not at all what Sirius had pictured a boxer to look like or be, (aside from the music,) and so, one day, he asked him about it.
“Well, aren’t you fighters supposed to be all tough and mean?”
“What makes you say that I’m not secretly a bully?”
“...Look at you.”
Remus laughed at that, a sound that at some point, Sirius had decided he liked.
“We don’t need to ‘be’ anything, outside of our sport. I’m not actually trying to injure anyone. It’s not a real fight, it’s just a match. The same way rugby players will tackle each other, but they’re not trying to break each other's bones. I’m not blood thirsty. I’m just an athlete.”
After that, Sirius felt very stupid. Of course, it was just a sport. What else would it have been?
Idiot.
They were all sat together on the floor one evening, playing Cheat, when the topic of home lives came up.
“What about you, James? Any siblings?” Pete asked.
“Nah, It’s just me and my parents at home, but I had a lot of friends at my old school. They used to call me ‘Prongs’, because one time they dared me to stick a fork in a socket and I did it. Sirius?”
“Oh, no no no no, Prongsy boy! You don’t get to just change the subject like that! We need the story!” Sirius was no longer interested in the card game.
“There is no story! We were just playing truth or dare!”
“James! You’ve been holding out on me! You never told me you were the undefeated truth or dare champion!”
“Of course I am! Now c’mon- what’s it like for you back home?”
Sirius got a twisty sinking feeling at the question, and made a snap decision to answer with as little detail as possible. “Um, well, I have a brother. Just one. Younger brother.”
“Nice! I always wanted a younger sibling when I was a kid,” James continued, “what’s his name?”
“Regulus.”
“Ah, so you all have weird names then.”
“Har har.”
“Remus? What about you?” Sirius was thankful James had left it at that and moved on.
“Um… Well I guess you could say I have a lot of siblings.”
“Really? How many?”
“Like, fourteen?”
“WOAH! That’s crazy! I feel bad for your mum, mate.”
Sirius slapped James for the tactless remark.
“Um, it’s not- well, we’re not all from the same mom.”
“Oh. Shit, sorry- I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s fine,” Remus shrugged, “really, I don’t mind.”
“Did you, uh, have any nicknames then?”
It was obvious James was trying his hardest to back-pedal; the room now more tension filled and their cards laying forgotten about on the floor.
“Oh,” Remus suddenly looked embarrassed. “No. Not really, uhm. No.”
Wanting to help but not knowing how, Sirius jumped in. “Well! We ought to give you one then!”
“Oh, Really? Like what?”
“Like… Uhh… Like Moony! Yeah, Moony!”
“What? Why?” Remus laughed, shaking his head.
“Because of your necklace!”
The other boy thumbed absent-mindedly at the place where the gold crescent moon pendant lay beneath his jumper. “I hate it.”
“Perfect! You’re supposed to hate your nicknames!”
Peter groaned. “My auntie calls me Peetey-Pie. I hate it.”
Sirius was elated. “HA! That’s brilliant! Peety-P-” A hand was slapped over his mouth.
“Call me that and I’m calling you Padfoot.”
James was practically jumping up and down with excitement. “PETE! I COULD KISS YOU!”
“Please, don’t.”
“YOU’RE A GENIUS! PADFOOT IS LEGENDARY!”
Sirius buried his face in his hands. “Just stop, you morons- it’s ridiculous- I’ve already told you-”
“SHUT YOUR YAPPER PADFOOT! I’VE BEEN FINDING LOOSE WOOL IN MY SOCKS FOR MONTHS!”
Peter was laughing profusely. “We’ve only been here a little over two weeks!”
BAM BAM BAM.
The dorm monitor did not wait for them to answer her knocking, and instead unceremoniously opened the door and scuttled inside.
“Too loud,” she chastised in a heavy German accent. “It is time for bed. If you do not sleep your bodies will not receive the proper nourishment. Be quiet, or I will make you quiet.”
The boys decided that they did not want to find out what her method of “making them quiet” would be, so they went to bed without argument.
When the lights were out and they were all under the covers, after a while James started snickering again. “Do you think her face hurts from scowling all the time?”
Sirius had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing. “Prongs! You can’t just say that!” He whisper-shouted back at him.
“I just did!”
The sounds of Pete and Remus’ stifled laughter filled the small room.
“She’s not too bad!” Sirius insisted.
“Mate, she’s terrifying!”
“If you think that’s terrifying, you should meet my mother!”
The room went silent.
Shit.
Why did I say that?
“Oh shit,” yeah, oh shit is right. “what happened, man?” James sounded considerably more sober.
“Er- nothing. It was just a stupid joke.”
“Um, alright, mate. Goodnight everyone.”
“Night guys.”
“Yeah, goodnight.”
“Cya tomorrow.”
The next day was, for the most part, uneventful.
No one brought up his little slip of the tongue, and classes were long and boring as per usual.
It turned out the girl he had seen that first day on the ice was in his figure skating class. She went by the name Katya and was exceptionally good. Apparently, she was from Moscow.
Every once in a while she would bat her eyelashes at him or graze his shoulder with her fingernails.
The action brought shivers down his arm.
He tried his best to avoid her.
He spent three hours after class that day practicing on the rink, perfecting his newest skills until he was certain he couldn't do them wrong; arcing around the ice in long, graceful strides. When his whole body was burning and buzzing from use and exhaustion, he skated over to the edge of the rink, pulling off his boots and running his fingers along the blades to rid them of the snow that gathered there. Holding them by their laces and slinging them over his shoulder, he strolled out into the dimly lit locker room.
This was strange, because he had left all the lights off.
In the corner stood Remus. Smoking.
Sirius gawked at him.
"You really can't decide, can you?" He glowered. "Are you a bad boy boxer with facial scars, or an awkward, bookish nerd?"
Remus' mouth quirked upwards slightly. Instead of answering, he held out the dart, offering Sirius a drag.
Not wanting to seem pathetic, he took it, decidedly not focusing on the fact that it had just been between another boy's lips, and inhaling the smoke sharply.
He tried not to cough. Really, he did.
Remus just chuckled and patted him on the back. "You were practicing for quite a while." He was talking so lowly it was almost a whisper. Almost.
Sirius could just make out his features in the orange glow of the cigarette. "Yeah."
"Sure your feet are alright, Padfoot?"
"Sure your lungs are alright, Moony?"
Remus laughed.
"They're probably not."
Sirius looked away.
"Why're you here, anyway?"
"Was waiting for you."
"What, the Queen die or something?"
"Or something."
"Well, what is it?"
"Tomorrow's the weekend. Peter's going out with some girl and James has to do that essay he's been putting off, I was wondering if you wanted to go with me to the village."
"So, you camped out in the locker room to ask me like some nonce."
"Naturally."
"Naturally."
"You just keep disappearing in the evenings is all, I wanted a chance to ask you."
"So, what, like a date? Are you some queer?"
Remus looked confused and taken aback by the statement.
"If you remembered orientation, you'd know we aren't allowed to go to the village by ourselves. I was just asking if you wanted to come with me. You could've just said no."
The taller boy took another long drag and turned away, walking out the door and leaving Sirius in complete darkness.