history of magic - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 491
Remus had learned long ago that a bored Sirius was a dangerous Sirius. However, after almost five years of being friends with the other boy, he fancied himself something of a Sirius Black expert–someone who could, in the very least, stop the other boy from doing something utterly idiotic when he was about to burst with restlessness.
The exception to this rule, of course, was History of Magic. Mostly because Remus was just as bored as Sirius was in this class.
Of course, he tried to pay attention. He was a Prefect, for Merlin’s sake, and someone out of the four of them had to take respectable notes so they all could at least pass their OWLs. But now that this thing between him as Sirius had turned from distinctly platonic to something blurry and possibly more, he found it almost impossible to stay focused.
“Psst!” Sirius whispered to Remus one dull, stifling afternoon as they all sat, brains melting, in class, Binns droning on in the background. “Moony!”
Remus tried desperately to ignore him, scribbling down some date the professor had just said. But his hand shook.
“Moony!”
A crumpled-up ball of paper hit Remus’s back and he smiled to himself, still trying to stay absorbed in the pointless lecture.
“Moons! Moonpie! Moonikins! Errr…Moonaroni and cheese!” Between every hissed nickname, a little ball of parchment hit Remus’s back, making him quiver with mirth. Even last year, this would have annoyed him, made him whip around and yell. But now that Sirius’s eyes showed up in his dreams more often than not? Now that his stomach flip-flopped every time the black-haired boy grinned his way?
It was all he could do not to fall into giggles.
After his attention span had fractured completely and his lips had split into a wide grin, Remus turned, schooling his face into a grimace. “What, Padfoot?” he whispered to the boy behind him, trying his best to adopt his serious ‘I-am-paying-attention-stop-being-a-prat’ scowl.
Sirius, however, was laying lazily over his desk, eyes sparkling, flashing him (Him! Remus, not James or Peter!) a beaming smile so wide and stunning Remus momentarily lost his breath. ‘Nice arse,’ he mouthed, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
It was so stupid, so random, so bloody funny, that Remus burst into a shout of laughter so loud that even Professor Binns looked up from his lecture. “Mister Lupin!” He shouted, scandalized.
“S–sorry, Professor,” Remus apologized between chuckles. “I just find the attack plans of the Wizard rebels of 831 ludicrous,” he shot Sirius another glance and they both fell into laughter again.
The Professor, however, looked mollified. “Quite,” he nodded, falling back into his drawl as Remus shot Sirius one more grin.
Looking back on that day, Remus always wished he’d opened one of the pieces of parchment Sirius’d thrown. He’d have seen the little S+R’s Sirius had written inside a heart in each one.
They might have had more time together.
