Dream Carved in Stone
If there’s one thing James Potter was good at, it was making Remus Lupin rue the day he met him.
“Powdered root of asphodel, professor.” Remus said through gritted teeth, providing the answer before Slughorn could so much as finish the question. He glanced a few desks over at his dear friend James, who was of course seizing every opportunity to be a massive pain in the ass. He had spent the last twenty minutes shredding (notably blank) parchment and using his wand to launch the scraps at Remus’ back.
At present, he was pulling an oh-so-flattering face and miming… well, miming kissing Slughorn’s ass. Sirius and Peter, flanking James on either side, were failing to stifle laughter. Peter shot him a guilty grin, and Remus countered by mouthing a few choice profanities in their general direction before returning his attention to the lesson at hand.
“Once the mixture is at a low simmer, we must stir it exactly twenty-two times before…”
The bell rang shortly thereafter. By the time he gathered his books and met his friends outside the classroom, a sharp punch to the shoulder was the extent of his grudge toward James.
“I mean really, Moony, I’m doing you a favour. That class is so dull. We can’t have you paying too much attention or I’m afraid you’ll become boring.” He said the last bit with a theatrical shudder.
Remus summoned his best withering glare but was interrupted by the sudden arrival of Sirius, looking gloriously tousled. His tie was askew and his books were piled gracelessly in his arms rather than in the book bag slung across his shoulder. “What horror! We can’t lose our Moony to the temptations of Slughorn.”
“Where were you?” Peter asked while James looked Sirius up and down like a scandalized mother. Remus could have sworn that Sirius had left class at the same time as them, but he’d lost track somewhere between the dungeons and the staircase.
“Being serenaded by some Hufflepuff fourth year, apparently. Though I’d argue ‘accosted’ is more the word for it.”
Remus couldn’t help but snort. “You’ve amassed quite the fan club this year.”
It was true. In every house there were a few younger girls who absolutely fawned over Sirius. Who could blame them, really? He was all leather jackets and messy-yet-perfect hair and flagrant disregard for authority… he was like something from a movie, unreal and utterly captivating. Even to Remus, who had known him for so long.
“Yes, well, what to do with my time when James is off writing soliloquies for Lily and you’re off on a late-night tryst with the temptuous Slughorn?” Sirius grinned, not faltering for a second when Remus redoubled his efforts to look disdainful.
Peter took on a mildly dejected look, which Sirius picked up on instantly. “Of course!” he exclaimed, breaking the brief silence that fell among them and making Remus jump. “Peter and I will break free of our chains and conquer Hogwarts. The world won’t know what hit it.” Sirius had slung an arm over Peter’s shoulder (leaning over slightly to do so, which emphasizes his off-kilter look) and was gesturing dramatically with his other hand.
Remus raised his eyebrows at this. “Your chains?”
“Why, that would be Pining Potter and Your Royal Lameness.” Sirius had at this point graduated from ‘coy smile’ to ‘infuriating grin’ and Remus could no longer feign anger. They all burst out laughing, turning a few heads from the sea of students squeezing past them on the stairs.
***
The boys fell into a comfortable silence as they made their way back up to Gryffindor Tower, where they proceeded to dominate the entire area in front of the fire. Sirius draped himself over one of the chairs, kicking his feet over one arm and letting his head fall back to look at his friends upside-down. James fell into the other and Peter seemed content to sit cross-legged in front of the fire. Remus, hardly about to sit on someone, settled at the base of Sirius’ chair with his knees tucked into his chest.
Remus was perfectly content to sit there in silence and decompress from the day’s classes, but that was nothing more than wishful thinking for the Marauders. Any semblance of ‘relaxing afternoon by the fire’ was obliterated by Marlene’s dramatic entrance, brandishing a half-full bottle of Firewhiskey and swaying enough that Remus could guess where the rest of the alcohol was. She lifted the bottle, opened her mouth as if to give a speech, and then sat down, hard.
“Drink with me, you assholes.”
James cheered and took the bottle readily. He knocked back a sip, winced like he’d been slapped, and then passed it to Sirius who had at this point livened slightly from his ragdoll-like position on the chair. Remus raised an eyebrow. “It’s four in the afternoon, Marlene.”
“High tea!” James exclaimed, sitting forward.
“Yes. We are the epitome of sophistication. Why are we assholes?” Sirius cleared his throat a little aggressively before he said this, and Remus could surmise that he was disguising a cough. Despite his disapproving looks, he took the bottle too. The familiar warmth of alcohol sent tingles down his throat and throughout his body, and he shivered a little as he leaned forward to pass the bottle to Peter.
“Because… you’re assholes.” Marlene responded with all the self-command she could muster (not much).
“Well, thank you for the notice.” James said, chasing his words with another sip of the whiskey.
They went on this way for a while, passing the bottle in circles (Remus wasn’t entirely sure how it hadn’t run out, and chalked it up to magic) until Remus wasn’t sure if the warmth on his face was the fireplace or the whiskey. The crackling of the flames was mesmerizing, and Remus couldn’t bring himself to focus on much else until James exclaimed (a little too loudly), “Sirius got serenaded today. He got serenaded. Pads, you never told us about your serenading. Tell us more about y-”
In a desperate attempt to prevent James from saying ‘serenade’ ever again, Sirius sat up a little straighter. “I was accosted today. Some fourth year Hufflepuff came up to me with a poem prepared and a whole band of friends. Hell, she said something about the stars? And my eyes?” The look of abject horror on Sirius’ face is enough to send Remus into hysterics, with James, Peter and Marlene soon to follow suit.
“Did they break out some choreography?” James was nearly in tears at this point. Sirius continued, clearly lost in the horror of the moment.
“It was awful. I tried to just cut and run but they grabbed me!”
“And that’s why you showed up looking all ruffled, Sirius? Not because you made their wishes come true?” Peter chimed in from his spot by the mantle.
Sirius shuddered thoroughly, and the group went into another fit of hysterics. Remus rested his head against the arm of the chair he was up against and brushed tears of mirth from his eyes. The common room glowed orange in the firelight, and shadows danced in the far corners of the room where the light of the flames just barely reached. Nearly everyone had retired to their rooms at this point– who knew how long they’d been sitting there, drinking that seemingly-infinite Firewhiskey and laughing– and it felt like they were the only people in the world. The only people who could enjoy this moment in this moment, before it was gone. Reduced to the muted recollection of this warm, fuzzy feeling in Remus’ chest.
Woah, okay, maybe enough to drink, Remus thought. He shook off the sudden pensiveness, returning to the cheer of the common room, and began the arduous task of pulling himself up off the floor. As soon as he got upright, the room began to spin and he lurched forward, putting one hand on the back of the chair and one on the arm. Unfortunately for Remus, located between his drunken body and the chair itself was one Sirius Black, grinning like an idiot. “Not you too, Moony.”
Remus, affronted (and feeling a hotness in his face beyond that of the alcohol) forced himself back to standing. Whatever embarrassment he should have felt was counteracted by pure inebriation. “I am off to bed, and you all should be too or you’ll be showing up to class with a wicked hangover.” He was met with grumbles of “Soon,” and “Lame,” and so he exited the room with dignity– or at least with as much dignity as one can apply to a drunken stumble.
Never so pleased to see his bed, Remus collapsed in his clothes. That warm feeling in his chest lasted just long enough for him to fall asleep with a faint smile on his face.