"What… what is this thing, Moony?" Sirius asked as he held the thin piece of wood in his hand like it might explode any second. His expression bordered on awe, even though he didn't yet know what it was.
"That? Oh, that's a pencil. A muggle writing implement. Don't bother trying it on the parchment though; it's too rough. Here, have some paper."
It was the summer holidays, and Remus had finally agreed to let Sirius around to his house under two conditions. The first being he didn't break anything, damage anything, injure anyone, mentally scar the children next door, or perform any action that could get the two of them in trouble.
The second being he brought chocolate. Admittedly, that had been more of a bribe on Sirius' part than one of Remus' conditions.
"Awesome. Can I borrow some ink?"
"You don't need ink. You just… write."
Sirius looked at Remus disbelievingly. "Seriously?"
"Siriusly."
Sirius rolled his eyes at the cheap, overused pun on his name. "But really," he insisted, "you aren't having me on, like the time you and James told me that muggle girls dig those blanket-skirt things."
"Kilts," Remus supplied, amused. "And really, you put it on the paper and you write."
"Show me."
So Remus got up from his bed that he was sitting on (Sirius had stolen the chair at his desk) and made his way over to his disbelieving friend. "Here," he told him as he pulled the pencil out of the animagus' hand. "Like this."
He placed the tip of the pencil on the paper and neatly scribbled a single word onto the white sheet.
Sirius.
Said boy inspected the paper with wide eyes and an innocent, amazed expression. He reminded Remus of a little kid sitting on Santa's knee for the first time, back when they still believed in the magic of Christmas.
His eyes were fixed on the paper as though it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. "It's like magic!" he breathed. "How does it work?"
"Well, there's a piece of graphite in the pencil that rubs off onto the paper and-"
But Sirius had ceased listening. "Can I have a go?" he interrupted.
"Sure."
Carefully, Sirius took the pencil from Remus' grasp as though it was the most fragile thing in the world. Placing it on the paper, he began to write.
There was quiet scratching for a couple of seconds and then…, "Remus! I'm so sorry! I broke it!"
Remus laughed at the guilty look on Sirius' face. "It's alright, Padfoot, it's only the lead. Let me show you how to use a pencil sharpener." He said it with a dramatic flourish, and Sirius looked at him with wide-eyed innocence one more.
"What does that do?"
Remus opened the draw of his desk. "It'll shave off the wood on the outside to reveal the lead, and you can write with it again." He placed the sharpener on the table and slid the pencil into it.
"What happens when you run out of pencil?" Sirius asked. "Does it magically renew itself?"
Remus gave him an exasperated, but amused, look. "No, Padfoot. You buy a new one."
He immediately regretted that. Sirius' eyes practically shone with the idea of buying pencils, and the werewolf got a rather scary image of several shopping bags full to the brim with every type of pencil the bookshop down the road sold.
"But anyway," he said hurriedly as he turned the pencil. "Why don't you have a go?"
He really was just like an overgrown kid, Remus thought, as he watched his best friend beam with pride of the achievement of pulling a freshly-sharpened pencil out of the sharpener.
"Just wait until I show you a pen," Remus muttered.
A/N: Eh. This was supposed be humour, but I guess that sort of went nowhere. Instead, I have this random drabble-like thing about Remus, Sirius, and a pencil.
Written to the prompt "pencil" given to me by xNomii.
Beta: chronicxxinsanity
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or Remus, or Sirius. In fact, the most I own of this fanfiction is the pencil… Oh no, wait, that would xNomi's doing. So I own… sort of the plot? Basically, HP = JKR