alwaysimpure | Marauders Reloaded

It probably would have been surprising and mildly embarrassing if Remus weren't expecting something along the lines of this very thing from this very person. If he weren't almost looking forward to it. Summers between school years are always long, lonely affairs, knowing exactly what and who he is missing.

"Yes, thank you for that," Remus says, turning to glance at the other boy over his shoulder and quirking a smile and a wry eyebrow at him in turn. "I missed you too, Sirius. Though if you start licking my face we are going to have words."

"Ohh, words. There's a threat." Sirius was debating it, honestly, but that Remus was expecting it did significantly lower the fun factor for him. "Maybe later. It's much more special if it happens in private." The special bond of face-licking. But still, Sirius relented and finally let go of Remus, straightening up and ruffling his hair. He walked around his friend, inspecting him as if he was taking inventory. "You're looking good, Moony, growing up works in your favour."

Of course he was looking for scars, looking for whatever signs of strain he could make out on him. The irony very readily escaped him, because he might not be the werewolf, but to any careful eye he didn't look as if he'd been sleeping or eating much himself.

Remus can't help but raise his eyebrows in response to such words. (And just for the record, no, he wouldn't put it past Sirius to pull a stunt like that, in public, private, or otherwise.)

But to suggest that he should be looking good? He knows exactly how he looks. He's wearing the same frumpy sweater that he'd had since last year, and it had been second-hand then. At least it fits better now. His mother had said he'd grow into it, after all. He's hit something of a growth spurt but it just leaves him feeling gangly, and he certainly doesn't feel like it's been working 'in his favor'. Whatever new scars Remus has, they are carefully concealed beneath his baggy sweater. And he's mostly rested. Certainly looking better than Sirius at least.

He knows Sirius, and thus he knows enough not to comment outright, not with anything serious (ha ha) at least, not here and now, but he does frown at him regardless. "You look like you've seen better days yourself, Pads," he retorts.

"You cut to the quick, don't you? No holds barred. It's true, but what can I say? Seems as if the burden of being the good-looking Marauder falls upon you this year. We can't count on Peter or James. His hair is ridiculous. At least with you, we have something to work with." Sirius' smile was bright as it often was, the kind known to be as infectious as his laugh.

Finally he ended up back in front of Remus and he took his arm, dragging him along and past some younger students onto the train. There were a couple of first years, so of course Sirius couldn't resist. "Did you hear about the dragons they got for the Sorting this year?"

He let his eyes wander over the faces of the children whose heads had snapped around at the word 'dragon' and whose expressions had grown fearful at the word 'Sorting'. "It's tragic when they die so young."

Remus shakes his head at the other boy, but he doesn't speak up to correct him, letting him revel in tormenting the first years, even if he didn't quite approve. Let them squirm a little, there isn't any real danger in it.

"You're terrible," he tells Sirius quietly, once they've passed the younger children. "And overdramatic. Your position remains the most good-looking of the Marauders, even now. Though I appreciate the sentiment that you think there's hope for me yet." He glances aside at Sirius, raising an eyebrow at him as he lets him continue to lead him on through the train.

"Excuse you, Moony!" Sirius sounds offended and - in his opinion - very rightfully so. "I'm exactly the right kind of dramatic. Overdramatic. Pah. Who has ever heard such nonsense?"

That said he stalks ahead a few steps, dramatically, then slams open a door to an empty compartment, dramatically, and finally steps aside so he can gesture for Remus to go in first, dramatically. For added flair, he even bowed slightly. "Now go sit down and tell me everything about your summer, because any and all letters you sent were intercepted."

Edited 2016-07-10 02:03 (UTC)

Remus rolls his eyes at his friend's theatrics but follows him into the train compartment, taking a seat near the window and waiting for Sirius to join him. At the suggestion that Sirius hadn't received any of his letters, however, he frowns once more.

"None of them?" he can't help but ask. He knows that Sirius' family is terrible, from the little he's seen of them on the platform, the howlers, and Sirius' descriptions besides. And it would explain why he hadn't heard a word in response, but even so... "For the whole summer?"

"Mhm." Sirius hums his confirmation as he shut the door to the compartment, after sending a few red sparks that would stay for a while out into the hallway. Had to make sure their errant friends would be able to track them down after all. He lets himself fall down on the seat next to Remus, only to stretch out across the whole side a moment later, his head predictably ending up in Remus' lap.

"Let's see. I did get a hold of half of one of Wormtail's letters. Really not worth the effort, unless 'What do you think of the we--' was going to end in 'wenches' instead of 'weather'. He writes remarkably dull stuff. Mostly I watched all my mail get burned. I intercepted one of Prongs' packages on the roof, well worth the broken collarbone, made being sent to my room without dinner for the majority of the summer a lot more bearable. Although, let me tell you, it takes a special kind of cruelty to ration a chocolate frog."

As he shared the story of how he didn't get mail, Sirius gestured, as he was wont to do and now that he was done, he reached up to bop Remus' nose. "Your turn."

Remus isn't bothered at all by the sprawling across his lap, he isn't bothered by the theatrics, he isn't even bothered by the nose bopping. He's more concerned with Sirius' stories of the cruelties he'd endured for the rest of the summer. And they had been that, cruelties. He tries to imagine the vivacious young man before him being treated in such a way -- being forced to accept being treated in such a way -- and he really can't picture it. He can't imagine what he would have done in Sirius' shoes, he can't imagine how Sirius can stay himself through all of that, he...

He realizes he's thinking too hard and that Sirius will call him out on it if he's not too careful, so he shakes himself out of it as best he can, shaking his head down at Sirius as he reaches to run his fingers through the other boy's hair. Stroking him not unlike he might do for Padfoot himself as he gathers his thoughts. "I wrote," he replies, because he did. Weekly at that, in hopes that maybe one of them had gone through. Apparently not.

He shrugs slightly. "Not about anything all that exciting. Probably more exciting than the weather, I suppose. No wenches in my letters, though. Really they were only the recounting of my boring days in the country, reading my boring books and missing you." He shrugs again. "It was an awfully quiet summer without you, Pads." He doesn't say that he'd been worried, but it's probably there on his face. Especially since Sirius is close enough to be able to notice such things.

"Of course. I'd imagine any time spent without me would be agony. Luckily I've never had to do it, I don't think it's bearable, personally. I've no idea how you do it, you must be a braver man than I am." Even though neither of them are men, by most standards, but going on a tirade like this is a lot easier than actually acknowledging the worry on Remus' face. Sirius' eyes go to the door, where red sparks are still visible, calling to their two missing friends. But apparently they're not yet here, so there is no relief from the gravity that Remus knows how to bring to a situation.

It's strange. All of them together? Nothing is ever taken seriously, at least not for very long. They lose is latest when one of them says 'serious'. Alone with James, yes. Sirius has had talks and silences that revealed how much there was to both of them and that taught James a lot about how family could mean anything but comfort.

But with Remus it is different still, because Remus inquires and understands in ways James does not. Remus is different and Sirius can never fool him with fake cheer. So he finally sits up and unbuttons the top few buttons of his shirt, so he can pull it over his head. It had already been more unbuttoned than necessary anyway, because any way he can show he has no manners, he will.

Sirius turns his back to Remus and there, just below his left shoulder blade, the words 'Toujours Pur' are edged into his skin, still red, deep enough to scar, now that it'd finally have time to heal. Sirius' voice sounds far away even to him, without levity, just a trace of humour. Black humour, of course, ever so fitting. "I spent a lot of the summer memorising the family motto. If I never have to write it down again, it will be too soon."

Remus keeps his face neutral at the sight of it although his eyes are sad. He is sad. And incredibly angry. Angry at Sirius' parents for being foolish enough to think that such a trick might work on such a stubborn boy as this. Angry at the cruelty of the spell itself -- Sirius will never be rid of that scar, not with the age that it is. And angry at the words of it. Toujours Pur. They had no right.

He doesn't verbally acknowledge the cruelty of the mark. What is there to say? What's done is done and Sirius doesn't like to be coddled. What he needs, Remus knows, as much as the care, is the affection. The attention. Things that his family probably never gave him. Things he's more than certain Sirius wanted from them, still wants in some ways, more than anything. Remus can't change their minds for them. He can't make them see what a mistake they have made in not believing in Sirius. But he can do it for them.

He reaches out to trace his fingers around the edge of the motto before he forces himself to take a deep breath and rest his hand flat on Sirius' shoulder. "I think I have some cream that might help with this," he says, softly. "If you don't mind the smell of it..."

"It's fine. I'm used to it." Sirius frowned and looked back at Remus over his shoulder, for once thinking exactly about what he's saying and how Remus might receive it. Not usually his style, but Remus is the one who's most likely to bring out that kind of consideration in him, at least when it's just them. Maybe it's just the awareness of how thoughtful Remus is in turn. He's earned it. "I don't mean like you're used to it. Just... Pain. Dark magic. That's family night in the Black household."

Of course he's using humour, the way he almost always does when talking about his family. He pulls away from Remus, just enough to be able to put his shirt back on. "I might want to cut it out to be rid of it. Then we can use cream."

Remus frowns at the thought of it. Cutting it out to be rid of the words, he's fairly certain that Sirius isn't joking about that. Not completely, at least. And it would be one way to get rid of the phrase complete. A sort of cathartic release of sorts as well. But that doesn't excuse the fact that Sirius is suggesting he take -- what? -- a knife to himself and purposely injure himself worse to be rid of it. He understands where he's coming from and he understands why, that he might even be better of doing so, but that doesn't make the reality of it any less terrible.

"We can sort it out later," he suggests. "When we're back at school." Because whatever Sirius might plan to do, it's not something they want to be doing on the train. Not when medical assistance, Madame Pomfrey and the infirmary are still hours away yet. And if he's set on doing something stupid then Remus wants to at least be secure in the knowledge that he can get him to help, should he need it.

It should be noted, however, that he hasn't tried to convince him out of anything. And even used the word 'we'. He'll keep Sirius' secret for as long as necessary -- for he knows this is a secret just for him. Sure, the other boy might let James in on it as well, but there's some part of Remus that's selfishly glad in the knowledge that he had come to him first.

"I'll have to sort it out. What am I going to do, never take my shirt off again or parade around with a pureblood slogan in the changing rooms?" Sirius shakes his head, looking down as he finishes putting his shirt back on and buttons it up a little bit more. He shrugs so the shirt hangs off him in the right way again, then he turns so he can lean back. Of course he'll tell James, it's inevitable, but it's also difficult. James, who can never wrap his mind around how parents can not love a child. Sirius still finds it strange that some parents apparently do.

"It's been a long summer." He pats himself down, looking for his pouch. "I can't wait to buy snacks, I'm going to eat my body-weight today. Twice, possibly. You might have to roll me out of the Great Hall."

Remus flickers something of a smile at the other boy at that image. He's fairly certain that regardless of how much Sirius eats, and how much he regrets eating that much, his seemingly magical metabolism will take care of it and he'll look just as infuriatingly good as he always does. Still. He can't resist a little rub.

"Careful you don't ruin your girlish figure, Pads," he says, before sitting closer once more. "Though I suppose you can afford it this time. You could do with a little more meat on you. Especially if you're planning to go parading about half-naked as you say."

"No worries, Moony. People love me for my personality, not my looks." Which is definitely not true for just about anyone outside of the Marauders, but Sirius' relationship with his appearance is as complicated as a lot of things under the deceptively simple surface. He doesn't mind looking good, even counts on it, but on the other hand? He looks like a Black should look and that is an insult, even if it means somehow looking haughtily beautiful while slouching in his seat. "Where are my other adoring fans anyway?"

As if on cue Peter comes stumbling inside, probably having gotten pushed by James, who's right after him.

"I missed you too, Wormtail, but would you mind getting off me?" Sirius isn't quite sure why he ended up buried under his friend, but since Peter looks even more winded he gives him a reassuring pat on the back and waits for him to find his feet. Meanwhile James sits down next to Remus, slinging an arm around him as he watches Peter and Sirius with a wistful sigh.

"Ah, young love. Do you still remember what that was like, Moony?"

Remus shoots the other boy a withering glance. Does he remember young love? Who does James think he is? James himself?

"Hello to you too, James," he replies in turn, though he does as any good friend might and leans into the arm around his shoulders. James is a good mate, after all. Even if he's got his head in the clouds sometimes, and up his own arse at others.

"The pair of you certainly took your time finding us," he comments, not that he's complaining. He'd welcomed his moment of solitude with Sirius, but he can see that it's done now. "We were thinking we might need to send out a search party pretty soon."

"You were? I was very comfortable without them." Much more comfortable than now, with Peter still mostly on top of him, until he finally gets up. Sirius pulls himself up a little bit more as well, still essentially slouching.

While that is going on, James is ignoring it entirely, instead replying to Remus. "I had to stop by Lily's, so she'd not have to yearn for me even a moment longer."

"He got slapped," Peter reports and Sirius snorts at that.

"Good going, Prongs."

"Sign of passion."

Marauders Reloaded

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...I was one hundred percent certain I had replied to this, smack me up the head next time.

OKAY C: i am so pleased to be continuing this fyi

YES me too I love your Remus already! :D

AND I YOUR SIRIUS C:

PERFECT FIT THEN! <3

yes it is C: <333

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I forgot this tag existed and I also want to continue and start more and I adore you