After Hours (or Banging Some Sense into Sirius)

Remus/Sirius. PG. ~200 words. Humour. Pastfic.
Thinking is never Sirius’s problem.

“I really don’t think-”

“No, no. See, that’s exactly your problem.” Sirius shuffled a few things around in the cupboards, ignoring the powdered Goblin teeth and pausing to stare at the bottle of Veela tears. He shook his head and pushed it aside. “Next time,” he muttered.

Remus shifted unobtrusively from foot to foot, wand held steady in his damp palm. “Eh, what? What’s my problem next time?”

Sirius grinned and tossed a tiny vial into the air, catching it easily. “You think too much. Prongs’s got this one knocked, you’ll see.” He winked and the small bottle vanished into his robes.

“You don’t think enough.” Remus cast a wary glance out the small crack in the door. “You’ll go too far one of these days.”

Slinging an arm around Remus’s shoulder, Sirius drawled, “Not so, not so. I’ve got you to bang some sense into my dense head.”

That earned him a withering look, with a hint of a smile around the edges. “Spent too much time with your nose in your cauldron, haven’t you. Creeping around empty classrooms at night sniffing bopolbo fur in the cabinets.”

Sirius blue eyes started to twinkle, and Remus shot him a wary look. “Now, I seem to recall that you’ve got a fondness for empty classrooms.”


Leave a Reply