sirius and remus running away together at sixteen. the two of them wandering the city streets late at night, and for a fleeting moment, they’re able to pretend that they’re on a night out together like normal teenagers. them trying to share remus’ worn out jacket but it keeps slipping off their shoulders so remus just wraps it around sirius without saying a word while remus pretends he isn’t freezing. sirius giving remus his gloves despite them not really fitting but remus’ hands are beginning to turn pale and sirius swears he doesn’t need them, even though he’s having to tuck his own hands into the crooks of his arms to keep them warm. them sitting at the park in the middle of the night, talking about what their future house is going to be like as if they don't have to worry about having a place to sleep at all in the first place. maybe one day they’ll get a little reading corner, a record collection they get to display and a kitchen with mismatched cutlery and wonky pictures on the fridge but for now, its just the two of them, the empty open air, and fear and uncertainty keeping them company while the world — their world — rejected them.