Happiness Is...
19) What makes you happy?
Sirius paused. Quill in hand, he tapped it against his chin as he looked around the common room. He was filling out an application/questionnaire for Muggle Studies and quite frankly, the questions were ridiculous. (7. Why do you think the moon is made of cheese? Honestly. Who thought these things up?! )
But he'd been determined to fill them all out properly. (I don't think the moon is made of cheese, idiot.)
So... What made him happy then?
Girls, he decided when one caught his gaze and blushed. Girls made him happy. The way they would titter and giggle, hanging on his every word and looking at him so adoringly. Made him feel loved and wanted, made him feel accepted.
And they made him happy in other ways too.
When they clutched him close as they screamed his name, for instance.
But then he liked it when they simply whispered his name as they slept, snuggling into his chest and murmuring loving words over and over again.
So, yeah, girls made him happy.
Coffee did too, he thought, nose twitching at the smell wafting from the cup on his desk. On a morning when he was half-asleep, he would somehow drag himself downstairs where there'd be a cup of sweet, strong coffee waiting specially for him.
He wrote coffee down on the parchment, just underneath girls.
What else made him happy?
The Marauders, of course. He watched James laugh as Peter's players started arguing with him; watched Remus roll his eyes and glance across at him, mouth twitching.
Sirius smiled in reply, laughing when Peter's knight started attacking him under James' orders. He scribbled Marauders down, feeling, for the millionth time, so very lucky that he had friends like he did.
Glancing around for more inspiration, his eyes caught on the window. Night. Night – darkness made him happy; where he could hide in the shadows and never be seen, where he could blend in with nothingness and become nothing.
He loved to sneak around outside at night – running around on the dew-y grass barefooted with the stars twinkling down and Remus sat on some rock, laughing behind his hand.
He treasured those rare moments, those rare, care-free, blissful hours.
Night went down.
Padfoot.
Being the dog had the same freedom, the same joy of running around outside. Except as Padfoot, he was unstoppable. A whirlwind of trouble and excitement and playfulness and happiness and hyper and everything in between.
Padfoot offered an escape. Somewhere to go when he needed to think, to get away from people.
He dutifully printed Snuffles under night.
He glanced around again. Snorting, he watched Remus attempt to play chess against James. Remus and chess, as surprising as it was, didn't mix well together. Whilst Remus was level-headed and studious he couldn't seem to wrap his mind around thinking further forward than two or three moves.
Even Peter could beat him.
Sirius watched for a little longer, marvelling in the way the fire-light seemed to be plumping out Remus' mouth, adding a sparkle to the werewolf's eyes and changing the colour of his hair from a dull sandy blonde to a deep, almost sparkling amber.
He cocked his head to a side. Remus made him happy, he thought. The more he watched Remus, the more contented and calm he felt. It was always Remus who made him coffee, always Remus who kept him company outside, always Remus who talked him out of Padfoot-sulking-dog-mode.
It was always Remus.
Whenever he wanted to go somewhere, whenever he wanted to do something, it was Remus that would get dragged along. When he woke sweating and screaming from his nightmares, it was always Remus he went to. When some girl hurt him, it was Remus' arms he'd run to.
Remus was laughing.
And Sirius had the strangest urge to laugh too. Not because he found anything remotely funny, but because it made him so damn happy to see Remus all smile-y and happy.
Though a little part of him wished it was himself that was making Remus laugh, not James.
James. Surely, as his best-friend of all time, James made him happy?
He did, Sirius realised after a few seconds, just in a different way to Remus. James made him feel lively and excitable; James made him feel accepted and part of the crowd. He laughed with James because there was always something to laugh at, not because James laughing made him feel all... fuzzy.
He didn't get the urge to hug James when he looked down and upset or when Lily had just rejected him, either. And if he ever did hug James, it always felt... familiar – like hugging a brother.
Not like Remus. Because whenever he hugged Remus his heart would pound in his mouth and his stomach would flip and tumble. When he hugged Remus, he felt invincible, like nothing could ever hurt him. When he hugged Remus, he never wanted to let go.
He stared at James for a few moments, trying to imagine feeling like that every time he hugged James. He screwed his face up. It felt... wrong, almost perverse to be thinking of holding James like that.
But thinking about Remus like that, well, it made his stomach burn and his heart thump painfully fast. It made him glow to think of Remus like that.
19) What makes you happy?
Girls
Coffee
Marauders
Night
Snuffles
Remus Lupin.
Damn formatting. *scowl* For the list at the end, use your imagination and pretend the underlined ones are actually scribbled out... It won't let me do that on here.
This is for a challenge fic on HPFC. Just a bit of cute fluff to cheer me up after my... er ... fairly bad maths-exam yesterday... *cry*
Enjoy and review... xD
I'm considering expanding this too... Let me know what you think!