Remus inhales deeply, holds, and lets the smoke escape his lips. His shoulders relax just a bit.
His bare legs swing out over the side of the astronomy tower, back and forth, back and forth. Inhale, hold, exhale. Back and forth. The rhythm is nearly as mesmerising as the weed, easy and slow. Inhale, hold, exhale.
Remus blinks lazily, relaxed and peaceful in the cool nighttime air.
There’s a creaking noise behind him and he startles. He nearly tragically loses the joint he’s holding over the rail but manages to keep hold of it and snuff it out on the cold stone of the tower.
“Hello? Who’s there?”
His heart is beating two times its regular rhythm. Someone is leaning against the door, but from what he can make out they aren’t a teacher.
As the silhouette comes closer, head titled a little to the side, Remus makes out the angular figure of Regulus Black.
“Lupin. What are you doing here? It’s practically the middle of the night.”
“Er– well, I was just, y’know–”
Remus glances around desperately for an excuse other than the spliff stuffed under his thigh.
“Stargazing wasn’t I.”
Regulus snorts.
“Is that what the kids are calling it nowadays?”
Remus laughs under his breath, probably more than he should, but the combination of his current state and baby Black making jokes is too much for him.
“And what else could I possibly be doing? It is the astronomy tower, after all. Maybe I just love the stars.”
“And maybe my brother is a full-blooded Slytherin. Don’t try and lie, Remus, it smells like I’ve just stuck my nose in Lovegood’s book bag up here.”
“Is that something you do often, then, Monsieur Black? Anyways, are you going to rat me out, little snake?”
Regulus hums and sits down next to Remus.
“I don’t believe I will, Wolf Wolf.”
Remus shrugs and lights the joint back up with a tap of his wand, raising it to his lips and inhaling.
“Don’t be cruel Remus, the least you can do in return for my restraint is share.”
Remus raises his eyebrows but decides that, yes, despite how unlikely the ice prince of Slytherin smoking may be, it really is the least he can do.
When he hands over the joint he’s expecting a cough at least, but Regulus just grabs it eagerly from him and inhales deeply, holds it, and then blows the smoke out theatrically. Either he’s smoked before or he’s a damn good actor.
Remus lies back against the stone of the tower and turns his eyes to the heavens, ironically, he is stargazing now.
Regulus takes another hit and then lies down next to him, hands the spliff back, and sighs relaxedly.
Suddenly, Remus is overcome with a bout of laughter.
Regulus turns to him, brows creased.
“What’s so funny?”
“I just– Who would have thought? Regulus Black smoking weed with a Gryffindor?”
Regulus snorts in return. Remus inhales, holds, and exhales.
“So, come here often then?”
“Now and again. And by that, I mean yes.”
Inhales, holds, exhales.
“Not such a good little pure blood then? Going through a rebellious phase are we?”
“Maybe so.”
Regulus takes the joint back. He inhales, holds, and exhales. He crushes it against the tower floor, burnt all the way down now.
Remus is contemplating rolling another when Regulus pulls something out of his cloak. The joy of joys, apparently he really did have the same intention as Remus when coming up to the astronomy tower.
He lights it and Inhales, holds, exhales, then passes it to Remus.
“Thanks.”
They stay there like that until late, late into the night. Late enough that night becomes early morning, and then they both make their way back to their respective dorms.
Regulus shows Remus a wonderful smell vanishing charm, and Remus is so relieved that he can stop bringing multiple sweater changes with him now.
For whatever reason, this soon becomes a near-nightly occurrence for the two boys. It’s peaceful somehow, reassuring. They don’t have to acknowledge each other during the day, but at night they are the best of friends.
Regulus slowly begins to tell Remus about what it’s like at home, about the constant pressure he’s under, afraid that if he’s not perfect they’ll punish both him and Sirius as they’ve punished Regulus for Sirius’ indiscretions.
Remus tells Regulus about how his mother loved him, about how she passed away, he tells Regulus that he’s pretty sure Lyle hates him, thinks he’s a monster, about how when he’s home he’s left so entirely alone sometimes his voice is croaky when he comes back from break.
But these occurrences are rare, breaks in the usual quiet camaraderie and quips back and forth. Remus didn’t think Regulus could giggle, and when he first discovers that he can, he can’t stop laughing about it.
Sometimes, Regulus and Remus branch out beyond just simple backyard grown spliffs, sometimes Remus gives Regulus his friend David’s famous brownies, and sometimes Regulus brings the really good shit he’d gotten this summer on the continent but he says he’s ‘saving for a special occasion’ most of the time.
Those nights are the best, and Remus comes back after one of them with a truly horrendous painting he and Regulus had decided to make together. Clearly, neither of them is an artist, but sometimes he likes looking at it as a reminder of the fun they can have, so he pins it into his suitcase.
The first time they smoke together after a full moon, Remus is exhausted and his bones ache with pain. When he sees Regulus in the hallway he widens his eyes. Regulus nods back, and sure enough that night Remus is treated to some fancy-arsed premium strain. Figures that even Regulus’ weed has to be high class. Ha. High class.
Anyway.
One night, several months into this routine, Regulus and Remus are smoking on the astronomy tower. They’re high as kites, and full-out chortling over some gossip that Regulus has reported about the Ravenclaws when Remus freezes.
He hears footsteps. Quickly, he stamps out the spliff and waves his wand, clearing the smell away (thank Merlin for Regulus Black’s weed-related ingenuity). Regulus blinks at him, eyes glassy and unfocused.
“What’s going on?”
“I think I heard footsteps.”
Quickly, Regulus’ head whips around, just in time to make direct eye contact with Professor McGonagel.
Remus stifles a laugh, quickly hiding it behind a cough.
“What are you boys doing out of bed so late?”
They glance at each other, then back at her.
Nearly in unison, they answer.
“Stargazing, professor.”
She stares at them and nods sceptically.
“Of course you were. However that may be, you are coming with me to Professor Dumbledore’s office. No student should be out of bed at this hour for–”
She pauses and looks them both over again.
“Whatever reason. Get up, both of you, let’s go.”
She spins around before they can even begin to right themselves, luckily turning her back on their stumbling mess of mutual support.
“I don’t think I can feel my body.”
Remus merely laughs (hopefully) quietly in response.
They carefully make their way down their steps after McGonagall, straightening themselves out as they go.
Remus blinks owlishly at Regulus as they’re about to enter the staircase to the headmaster’s office. He leans in close.
“You don’t have any fancy spells to make us look less like we’ve smoked ourselves to outer space as well, do you? Not that I need it, but you’re looking awfully allergic there aren’t you Monsieur Black.”
“Unfortunately, no. We could claim sleep deprivation if they ask?”
Their brilliant scheming is interrupted by a pause in the creaking of the stairs. They follow McGonagall onto them and both breathe deeply. Inhale, hold, exhale.
When they enter Dumbledore’s office he doesn’t look any worse for the apparent hour, and it seems that McGonagall has already informed him of their accused crimes as she leaves nearly as soon as they’re seated.
“Hello, boys.”
Dumbledore twinkles at them.
“Feel free to have some chocolate, then.”
Regulus and Remus glance at each other. This is cruel and unusual, even for Dumbledore.
“Now, I hear that Minerva has caught you two up after hours tonight. Am I correct?”
Again they glance at each other. Regulus bugs his eyes out slightly, and Remus covertly pats his knee in solidarity.
“Er– Yes. Yes, Professor.”
Regulus is desperately holding in a laugh as he speaks.
Professor Dumbledore eyes them both up and down.
“Fun night, eh lads? Well, considering you’re both very good students and–”
Dumbledore seems to be sniffing the air now.
“This is the first offence, I suppose you’ll both be serving detention on Monday and Tuesday with Minerva. Don’t let it happen again. And get back to bed.”
“Yes, professor.”
They rise from the seats they’d previously been slowly sinking into and exit the room.
Remus nudges Regulus in his side when the door is closed.
“Yes Professor, No Professor, you sound like a soldier.”
“Better than you, wasn’t I? I didn’t hear you say a single word.”
“I can’t believe we’ve got away with that. Did you see him sniffing the air? Thank Merlin for your charms work, Reg.”
“You think they knew and are just humouring us?”
“Oh, surely as people are made of seventy per cent water.”
“Seventy? That seems a bit high, doesn’t it? Are we made of seventy per cent water?”
“Yeah, we are.”
“Are you sure? I don’t believe it!”
“Course I’m sure. Why not?”
“Well, wouldn’t we be more, y’know”
And here Regulus squishes his arm for emphasis.
“Wet?”
Remus laughs into his hand.
“I don’t want t try and argue this right now. I’ll explain tomorrow, although I suppose we might have to scout a new spot. Anyway, I’m heading back to the tower and you should be on your way to the dungeons, you little underground delight. Night Reg.”
“Night Rem.”
Remus really can’t believe they’ve gotten away with that, and he also can’t believe how much better smoking with Regulus is than it is alone or with some of his other stoner friends. He’s honestly glad that Reg had run into him that night in September. As he goes to bed, he’s smiling, and it's not just the high making him feel dizzy.