high tops in the summer (don't be a bummer babe)
For the first 4 summers of his Hogwarts education, Sirius Black couldn’t wait to return to school. He’d miss the grounds the minute he stepped off of the Hogwarts express. At every Black family meal, he’d miss the overflowing bowls of mash and green beans and the way first-years would watch in horror as Remus made whichever odd food combination he fancied that day. Curled up in his bed at night, lying under the posters of Bowie and Queen he’d stuck to his ceiling (for once his mother’s tendency to only look down on him was useful), he’d wish he was at Hogwarts, dangling his feet off the Gryffindor Quidditch tower with Remus, sharing a spliff and a bar of chocolate (Remus and Sirius were both partial to carmel), He missed running the halls with James, sending curses at portraits and terrorizing Severus with whatever hair-altering charm they had discovered that week. He missed Peter and the caricatures he’d drawn of everyone in the castle, most of all the widely insulting ones of Severus that just happened to fall from the ceiling in the Great Hall.
He missed his friends most of all when he faced his mother’s wrath, clinging to the images of James, shooting a cocky grin at Sirius mid-Quidditch match and cheering the loudest whenever Sirius blocked a shot, and Peter, having a cup of his mom’s special hot chocolate mixture ready whenever Sirius had nightmares because somehow he just knew, and Remus, with his kind eyes, who would lie beside Sirius and listen to records for hours when Sirius didn’t want to talk. Sirius ached for his friends.
But this year, Sirius had wanted summer to last forever. Sure, he’d missed Remus and Peter, whose letters were always too short with not nearly enough information. But he’d gotten to spend the best 2 summers of his life with the Potters who, since winter hols of 4th year, had taken him in and spoiled him entirely every break. This year, they’d taken him with them to their small seaside cottage. James and Sirius had spent the entire summer on the beach, swimming and tanning (well, James tanned, Sirius just burned). They’d snack on Effie’s biscuits and chai, which she served piping hot even when it blistered outside. Night after night they’d run into the cottage and scarf down Effie’s famous malai kofta, James and Fleamont laughing at Sirius’s inevitable request for yogurt because it was “just too spicy”. Then he and James would run out onto the beach once again, wasting the night away around bonfires with the other wizards who stayed there, trading spliffs for stories and making stories about constellations while Sirius indignantly corrected them.
Sirius sighed as they made their way to Platform 9 ¾ as James looked at him curiously.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so unexcited to return to Hogwarts. This used to be your favorite day of the year, remember?”
“Don’t be daft, you know my favorite day of the year is your birthday.” James rolled his eyes at that. “And anyways, how come you’re so chipper. We’re leaving the best summer of our lives.”
“Perk up, we’ll get to see Peter and Moony now, at least.”
Sirius did perk up at that. He’d forgotten that in less than an hour, the Marauders would once again be united.
“And think about it, Padfoot. We don’t have to start studying for NEWTs for ages. OWLs are over, the entire castle is ours to conquer. This is the year of the Marauders.”
It was Sirius’s turn to roll his eyes. James did have a flair for the dramatic. Though he supposed he had no right to say that, considering he was Sirius “unnecessary theatrics” Black.
“Sure, Prongs. Just like last year, and the year before, and the year-”
Sirius's heart dropped.
The first thing he noticed were his shoulders. They were broad and strong and so different from the lanky boy who’d left in June. He’d gotten taller too, though Sirius supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, since he already towered above them. His brown curls were tousled, and he’d finally grown them out. They were messy in a way that was endearing, as if he had rolled out of bed and not even looked in the mirror. Which, realistically, is what probably happened. He’d always seemed so uncontrolled, but he walked towards them with a steady, quiet confidence that hadn’t been there before. Almost as if he’d grown into himself, grown into the wolf he held inside. His jeans were ripped in a way that some would think purposeful, but Sirius knew were because he pulled at them when he was nervous, which was basically all the time. He wore his battered black Converse that Sirius had begged him to get rid of a thousand times, and as if he was trying to torture Sirius, he held his trademark sweater and instead wore a fitted white t-shirt that showed off the magically appearing muscles in his arms. Sirius’s eyes tracked down his arms and his mouth went dry.
Rings. So many of them. He’d never imagined Remus being the kind of guy to wear them, but now he couldn’t imagine him without them. They weren’t silver (fake, obviously, for Remus) like Sirius’s, but rather clay and plastic, brown and black and red. Rings on his long, slender fingers. He could imagine them skimming the pages of his beloved Muggle novels and drumming on the arm of his favorite chair in the common room.
Then he flicked his eyes up to meet Remus’s. A glint of mischief, a small, self-deprecating smile, but also a new self-assurance. It was so Remus and so different at the same time.
“Lads,” Remus tipped his head in a friendly nod, eyes crinkling at the edges. “Good summer, I expect? James is two shades darker and his hair somehow got even curlier.”
“And how about you, my dear Moony?” James remarked playfully. “You’ve somehow grown even taller and, my heavens, are those muscles? It seems like our Casanova’s gone and become a heartthrob.”
“Smart and hot? Sirius, look out, you might have some competition this year…”
Sirius, noticing Peter for the first time, felt something indescribable at Peter’s comment. Was it jealousy? Jealous he wouldn’t be the only heartthrob in their group anymore? Yeah, that must be it. He pushed the odd feeling down. No, Remus deserved the world. And if the thought of him living up to James’s little nickname made him mildly nauseous, it was just an odd coincidence.
Remus rolled his eyes at Peter.
“He will not. Now stop being idiots and tell me about your summers. Peter, I want to hear more about that café you went to in Paris. Were the walls actually made of books?”
Before Peter could begin chattering eagerly, James cut in with a sly look.
“Don’t look now, Moony, but it seems the great James Potter was right once again.”
Sirius whipped his head around in a very casual, definitely cool way. Four sixth-year Ravenclaw girls were giggling and smiling shyly at Remus nearby. One bold one - Sirius thought her name was Madeline - even threw a flirty “Hi there, Remus” over her shoulder as she boarded the train. Who the fuck did these girls think they were? He didn’t think they had even spoken to Remus before, and now they were ogling him in the middle of the train station. He was outraged, for Remus, of course.
“Hiya Maddie. I’ll see you in Ancient Runes again?”
She giggled. “You better start up the study group again, or I might collapse before the first exam.”
Remus smiled kindly at her, some sort of promise in his eyes. Satisfied, she turned around and flounced towards her friends excitedly. Sirius couldn’t believe it. Not only did Remus know this girl, he called her Maddie? It may be selfish, but Sirius hadn’t even realized Remus had friends outside of them and the girls. Obviously, he knew Remus was well liked. What wasn’t to like about Remus Lupin? But that was just a fact. It was a different thing to see it right in front of him.
James grinned. “You sly dog, Moony. You literally just shagged Madeline Vichot right in front of us.”
Remus scowled in a way that definitely wasn’t attractive. “Shove off, James, I did nothing of the sort. Maddie and I are friends. She was in my study group last year.”
Peter chuckled, “Moony, I swear you are the most oblivious man on earth.”
As they settled in their usual compartment, Remus brushed off the remark and turned to Sirius.
“Sirius?” he asked, a question in his eyes.
Sirius was dumbstruck. Fuck, had Remus always smelled this good? What had he said again? Oh, right…
“Hi, Moony. Good summer?” Sirius asked, finally finding his words.
A soft smile played on his lips, but his eyes were tired. “Sure, you could say that.”
His voice had changed too. It was deeper and smoother, the kind of voice, Sirius thought, that could break your heart. But Remus was far too kind, too stable to do anything like that.
Remus shook his head fondly and a little sadly, and Sirius almost asked what he was thinking of. Moony can have secrets too, he chided himself. Shaking it off, he turned to Peter, feigned interest turned to genuine interest as Peter described how muggles used a funny-looking comb to clean the streets of Paris.
Moony, he noticed, hadn’t said a word. Instead, his green eyes stared outside the window, brow furrowed in deep thought.