Too Hot
The spring of Remus’ third year was unseasonably warm, and he hated it.
“Moony, it’s really too hot to be wearing all that.” Sirius whispered. He was doodling on his parchment instead of taking notes on glamouring charms, and Remus thought of how he’d beg to borrow his later, even though he was perfectly capable of simply writing things down. It never actually happened, but he had no way of knowing that in the moment and was irritated enough just at the thought.
“I’m fine.” He grumbled back.
“You’ll pass out.”
“I won’t. Shut up, I’m trying to focus.”
“All your focus is leaking out with the sweat.”
“That’s definitely not how it works.”
“Come on, at least the gloves.”
“No.” Remus gave up on listening to the lecture. Once Sirius went on a tirade there was no stopping him, and it really was uncomfortable to write with sweaty, gloved hands.
“Jumper?”
“Absolutely not.”
Sirius sighed loudly, and Dahlia Thorpe, the Ravenclaw girl on his other side, glared at him. Remus felt for her.
“No one besides you cares about your scars.”
Remus tried to pull his arms deeper into his sleeves. “That’s just because no one sees them.”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen them, and I don’t care. It’s sad how you got them, but I think they look really cool.”
Though he knew it was out of pity, and was trying to ignore that it meant more to him than it would have if James said it, that made Remus’ day. Still, “They’re ugly. And obvious.”
“No they’re not. Plenty of people have scars; no one will guess how you got them, and if they ask you can tell them to fuck right off.” Sirius insisted.
“We’re in class; we shouldn’t be talking.”
Sirius glanced around them. “Everyone’s talking, and no one’s looking at us. You know Flitwick doesn’t have enough spine to actually get us in trouble.”
Remus made sure to look dissaproving, even though it was true. “Be quiet.”
“Take off your jumper.”
“Merlin, just leave me be.”
“It’s boiling today Moony, and you’re sweating and obviously uncomfortable. Who cares about other people? Just take it off.”
“Easy for you to say.” Remus grumbled. He hated being hot, and he hated fighting with Sirius, but he hated people seeing his scars even more. He just knew everyone would guess; how could so many gashes be from anything else?
“Plenty of people have scars.” Sirius said again, and before Remus even knew what was happening, he’d slipped out of his school shirt.
There were giggles all over the classroom, a few gasps, and even Flitwick stopped his lecture when he realized his most troublesome student was shirtless and once again interupting the lesson.
Remus for his part, was a little too stunned by how very unfairly beautiful Sirius really was, to understand what he was being shown.
The laughter turned into loud whispering, and even Flitwick’s “Mr. Black, I’m not quite sure that’s appropriate.” ended in a surprised squeak. It took Remus a minute, as used as he was to seeing similar skin in the mirror, to know what was going on. Once he understood, he just wanted to wrap Sirius in as many blankets as possible and maybe give him a few forehead kisses.
There were scars all over Sirius’ torso and back. They weren’t like Remus’, all ragged, but they were nearly as numerous. They were mostly straight and smooth, although a few branched out like veins or lightning. The ones on his back were long and crisscrossed, and Remus was reminded of stories he’d read in which people were whipped for their crimes. Most of them looked old, and Remus didn’t understand how he’d never seen them before.
Then it dawned on him that they were in a room full of curious and gossip-mongering students, and Sirius had just chosen to reveal those brutal, private, scars to all of them. For him.
Flitwick cleared his throat a few times, “Mr. Black, please dress yourself and we can start our practice for the day.”
A Ravenclaw in the back snickere, saying “Merlin knows he needs it.”, and Sirius quickly pulled his shirt back on.
“I’m already proficient at glamouring, thanks.” That explained how Remus had never seen the sars, and it made him so very sad that Sirius had tried so hard to hide them. He was all the more touched that he was showing them off now. “Even you should be able able to work it out in a few years.” Sirius snarled. It was risky to doubt a Ravenclaw’s intelligence, but he was nothing if not a risk taker. Remus was unreasonably impressed, but he was already a little biased at the moment.
Before Remus could think of anything meaningful enough to say to thank him, they grouped up to practice glamouring on eachother, and Dahlia joined them. Sirius insisted he didn’t need the practice, so she and Remus worked on him first. There was nothing that could really be fixed or hidden, and after several tries that only managed to make Sirius’ skin possibly look a little smoother, Remus gave up and let Dahlia try to glamour his freckles instead.
After succesfully concealing all of them six times, and somehow managing to give him more once, Dahlia declared herself a charms master and sat on the floor, unnecesarily close, in Remus’ opinion, to where Sirius was lounging.
“So how’d you get them?” She asked casually.
Even though it wasn’t directed at him for once, the question still made Remus tense. Possibly even more so.
“He was saving a dragon from a princess who couldn’t mind her own damn business.” He spat. It was a lot harsher than anything he’d meant to say, but Sirius laughed and grinned at him, so it was just about worth it.
Dahlia glowered. “I was just asking. I’ll go work with someone else if you two are going to sit here doing nothing.” She said, stalking to the other side of the classroom.
“I’ll tell you later how I got them. I’m sorry I never showed you before.” Sirius murmered as soon as she was gone.
“You don’t have to.” Remus assured. In all his reckless gestures, Sirius had done more than enough. He’d done what Remus had always been terrified to do, and Sirius himself obviously wasn’t very keen on, just because Remus was a bit too warm. There was no chance of ever paying him back for all he did.
“I want to. I know about yours.” Smirking, Sirius eyed Remus’ gloved hands.
“You’re relentless. Fine.” Remus slipped his hands out of the gloves and wiped the sweat on his trousers. It was immensely relieving.
“No jumper?”
“Not yet. But thank you, Sirius. So much.”
“Very welcome. Anything to get you out of a few more clothes.” Sirius cackled and winked.
Remus hated himself for blushing.
He spent the rest of the day nervously waiting for someone to notice his hands, but everyone was far too preoccupied glancing at Sirius to even give him a second look. It still nearly gave him a heart attack any time he had to reach for something, and he wasn’t all that much cooler, but he was rewarded with Sirius running his fingers over the scars whenever no one was looking, and that made it the best choice of his life.
Brave, beautiful Sirius Black didn’t think his scars were ugly.