Frivolous Pleasures

Disclaimer: All of these characters are © J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic, and Warner Bros. Entertainment.  Not me.  Therefore, I plead you not to sue me, as I am currently a…struggling artist, if you will.

Author's Notes: While on vacation on Sanibel Island, I came up with the idea for a fic where Remus is on vacation in Cannes, France.  Remus misses Sirius, to whom he has not proclaimed his love, and Sirius is lost in a world of 15-year-old hormonal lust.  It shouldn't be too many chapters, as it spans only the summer between fifth and sixth years and the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  And please excuse my absolutely abysmal French.  I don't speak the language, and my French-speaking beta isn't speaking to me.  siria raine

Chapter One

When you screamed

I'd fight away all of your fears

I held your hand through all of these years

But you still have

All of me.

-evanescence

Remus sat on a stone bench, his thoughts swirling about him like the waters laid out splendidly in front of him.  The fifteen-year-old brunet's eyes were slightly clouded, lacking their magnificent golden light.  Moodily, he narrowed his eyes against the bright sunlight glinting off the water. 

A slight breeze lifted up his gleaming hair, which had grown so long his mother gave it a disdainful look every time she saw him.  It swayed roguishly about his face, giving him the look of a man on the edge of insanity.  His eyes were mad as he stood over the stone wall erected to keep him from falling into the choppy Riviera.  "Au revoir, France."

Lifting up his arms like a cross, he prepared to fall directly into the deathly waters. 

He was on the tips of his toes when a strong arm wrapped itself around his waist and pulled him back.  "Just what do you think you're doing?!"

Remus let out a perfectly audible groan.  "What does it look like, Romulus?"

"Well, mon cherie, it looks like you're jumping off the bridge."  He guided his twin brother down, off the granite wall.  "But I know any kin of mine wouldn't do that." 

"Mind your own business, brother."

"Now, now, now.  We can't have that kind of nonsense.  You know very well I'm incapable of doing that.  As are you--considering we're technically...the same person."

Remus glared up at his fraternal twin.  "Vous me connaissez trop bien.  But  you also know I'm not to be stopped."  He walked ahead a bit.  "As are you, unfortunately for me." 

And with that, he set out at a run for the large summer house.

Laying out on the Potters' lawn, Sirius looked up at the perfectly clear sky.  Not a cloud scudded across its blue surface, so calm it was as if earth was at a standstill.  His senses were awakened by James, calling him from the spacious porch. 

"Siri! This is great.  Come look at this!" Sirius slowly pulled himself up on the lush grass and stood to go to his friend.  He found James standing on the porch of the large Victorian, a pair of binoculars pressed to his bespectacled eyes.  Sirius rolled his smoky eyes emphatically when he saw where the black-haired boy was looking.

Next door to the Potters' Victorian estate laid a similar home held by the beautiful and vivacious Emma Hamilton.  Sirius noticed the binoculars were trained at her bedroom window, and could gather James had bewitched the lenses to filter gauzy fabric that lined those panes of glass. 

"James, you're such a pervert."

"Am not!" he replied indignantly, looking offended as he pulled the binoculars from his face.  "I was just—" He readjusted his pants slightly, causing Sirius to chuckle.  "—Looking."

"You look like you've been wearing a monocle and I've never seen the crotch of those pants pulled more taut." 

James blushed.  "Well…er…"

Sirius laughed out loud, rather like a bark.  "Don't lie to yourself, Jamie.  You know as well as I do—"

"Fuck you, Sirius Black!" James said, sidling towards the stairs that led to the lush green yard.  His blue eyes were gleaming and hair seemed more tousled than usual.  His erection had calmed slightly, Sirius noticed, but his jeans were still pulled awfully tight.  "If you want to take something up with me, you'll have to catch me first!" With that last remark, he took off at a run towards the broom shed where his Comet Two Sixty lay dormant. 

Sirius looked up toward the still-cloudless sky, his shoulder-length raven hair falling back.  "Oh, what the hell." 

His long legs took the steps two at a time and raced after James.

He wasn't six feet from said broom shed when the messy-haired brunet shot out like a rocket on his old broom.  "Catch me if you can, Padfoot!"

"That isn't fucking fair! The only other broom is a…what, a Cleansweep 4? It's ancient!"

"Early bird gets the worm, my fair Sirius!" James called from the sky where he was soaring delightfully. 

"I'm going to set you right, Jamie!" Sirius pulled out his wand with a flourish.  "ACCIO BROOMSTICK!"

He immediately regretted saying that, for he remembered how terrible his depth perception was.  The broomstick zoomed toward him with an incredible velocity, knocking him backwards off his feet.  He sat up just in time to see James Potter hurtling downward, faster and faster until he landed with a thump in the bushes below.  "JAMES!"

Sirius rushed over to where James had landed.  He found his friend spread-eagled on the brambles, his glasses askew and eyes shut tight.  James's Journey shirt was torn in several places, the olive green tinged with deep scarlet.  Sirius's smoky eyes darted all over the body, unknowing, disbelieving.  What do I do?

It seemed as if the gods had been listening, for at that moment, Mrs. Potter came out with a platter of muffins.  "Jamie? Sirius? I've got some muffins for you!"

Sirius grabbed the chance.  "MRS. POTTER! COME QUICK! JAMES—HE'S—I'M NOT SURE WHAT HAPPENED—" Yes you do, you lying bastard, you pulled his broom out from under him.  Muttered a nasty voice in the back of his head.  He ignored it.  "HE'S LYING HERE IN THE BUSHES—AND—" he didn't need to say more.  Mrs. Potter, her mousy brown hair flying back.  She had her son's sparkling sky-colored eyes, and her lips were shaped like a perfect rosebud. 

"What happened, Sirius? Here, help me lift him." With amazing strength for a woman of her stature, she lifted her fifteen-year-old son from the bushes. 

"We were fooling around, and he—" Sirius faltered, remembering his actions.  "He fell from his broom."

"Jesus.  I always tell him to not fly so fast… Here, help me pull off this shirt." She and Sirius slowly pried the shirt off, being wary of threads stuck to the fragmented skin.  James stirred lightly, and Celina Potter whipped out her wand.  "Stay still…" she muttered a couple words and waved her wand above her son's body.  Most of the scratches disappeared, but the deeper ones stayed as pale scars.  "That's the best we can do for now.  {insert lifting spell thingy here}."

Flitting her wand carefully, Celina walked back to the estate, Sirius in tow.  Finally, what felt like ages to the raven-haired troublemaker, they reached the parlor of the Potter home.  Mrs. Potter lay her son down on the sofa, wearing a grim expression.  She muttered something else, and his eyes fluttered open.  "Mum…Sirius...what happened? I was on my broom…then…" he looked puzzled.

"It's ok, darling.  You fell from your broom." 

"Oh.  But…"

Now Sirius spoke up.  "You're pretty battered there, mate.  Took a nice fall."

"Oh, shut your face."

"I'm serious!"

"And I'm James, but you're still a liar." 

"I ought to—" But Sirius was cut off by Mrs. Potter.

"Sirius, dear, I'd suggest you go home, at least for a while.  James did (unlike you're saying) take a very nasty fall there."

"MUM!"

"I'm sorry, but it's for the best."

"It's ok, Jamie.  I'll be back later, when you're…recuperated."

And with a quick goodbye to Mrs. Celina Potter and a smirk at his best friend, Sirius dashed from the house.

That Saturday night saw a quiet Remus sitting with his family at dinner.  The large French doors opened onto a wide veranda, a peaceful breeze causing the willows outdoors to wave slightly.  The sun was still setting over the French Riviera, a fiery red ball above the horizon.  Pink, violet, blue, orange, and a whole other plethora of colors streaked the twilight sky, making the landscape like a Monet painting. 

But Remus was sullen, and most certainly not at peace.  His golden-streaked brunet hair was unruly, not nearly to its usual standard.  In a voice much unlike his own, he gruffly asked to be excused.  His mother looked at him oddly.  The usual gleam that resided in his eyes was in hers, her hair slightly more golden than his.  "Of course, ma cherie." Rhea replied, worry etched not only in her beautiful facial features but also in her voice.

Remus scooted his chair out upon the hardwood floors, slight skid marks showing up on the pristine polish.  He threw his napkin down on the chair and stormed up the stairwell.  Rhea gave her husband and other son an odd look.  "Romulus, has he been like this all day?"

Rom shifted uncomfortably in his chair.  "Er…well…"

"Give your mother a straight answer."

Romulus gave his father a sharp look, one that he and Remus had perfected.  "Yes, he has."

Rhea's golden eyes turned to her husband.  "Should we go try and talk to him…?"

"I will." Rom spoke up, setting his napkin serenely next to his plate.  "Excuse me, s'il vous plait."

Following his twin whom he knew so well up the grand staircase, he stopped outside the mahogany door that led to Remus's room.  "Remmie?"

"What?!" Remus flung open the door and Rom was tempted to take a step back.  His brother looked so fierce.  There was an unmitigated fire in his eyes, looking like polished brass.  His face was flushed as if he'd run a mile.  "Oh, it's you.  Come in, then."

Romulus stepped inside his brother's room, looking at the contents.  It was so neat, so clean, so…Remus.

"What's wrong?"

Remus scowled at the taller version of himself.  "Romulus, I don't see how that is any of your business." 

"As your twin brother, your flesh and blood, I make a point of making everything my business.  So?"

"Look, Rom.  It's just…" Remus shifted uncomfortably.  "Some stuff, at school…"

"What does go on at Hogwarts, anyway? You're lucky, you've got the 'White Bumblebee' as your headmaster.  We've got ole Madame Maxime…le giantess."

Remus laughed in spite of himself.  "Oh, what would she say if she heard you saying that?!"

"'I am just beeg-boned, zhat's all! Deetention, Romulus!'" Rom imitated, standing and flaunting about his brother's room.  "'Eef you say zhat one more time, I weel make sure you are expelled!'"

Remus fell back on his bed laughing, worries momentarily extinguished.  The sight of his taller brother skipping about his room and curtsying threw him into a fit of giggles. 

"Vhat ees so funny?! Vhat are you laughing at?!"

"Shut up, you great brute!"

Romulus put his hand to his chest.  "How dare you accuse me of being a brute!" he said, trilling his 'r' slightly. 

"She'd kill you for this, and I'm going to tell her about it, too!"

Rom gasped in mock horror.  "You wouldn't! Oh, please, my love," he grabbed his brother's hand and kissed it emphatically, moving his lips up Remus's arm like Gomez Addams would to Morticia.  "Spare me! Ne ditez pas, s'il vous plait!"

"While I am so very flattered, I would ask that you keep your hands off me…brute."

Romulus fell backwards onto the Oriental rug, his eyes open in mock horror.  His head flopped to the side, tongue sticking out.  His hazel eyes shut, and he played the part of the dead lover so well Remus was encouraged to play along. 

Straddling his brother, Remus put his face very close.  He couldn't feel Rom's breath—very good actor, his twin was.  "Rommie?" he whispered, barely audible.  "You alive, love?"

Suddenly, Romulus's head snapped forward, his eyes popped open, and he kissed Remus hard on the lips.  "Gotcha, Rem."

"You brute! I was right! I knew it.  I knew you were up to something." Remus joked, pulling himself off his brother. 

"Ah, but mon cherie…"

"No buts, you idiot."

"What about this one?" Romulus, in a very acute display turned around and dropped his pants.

"YOU IMMATURE ARSE!"

"My immature arse, you mean."

Remus rolled his eyes and shielded them.  "Please.  I've seen enough in my life without seeing that, too."

"Well, it's not like they're any different, you know, yours and mine." 

Remus threw a pillow at his twin.  "Mine's better."

"Oh, do you look at it often?" Rom asked, pulling up his trousers.

Remus blushed.  "No…"

"Oh really? I'm sure."

"You better be.  Listen, Rommie…"

"Yeah?"

"There is something."

"Excuse me?"

"You know, you asked me what was going on.  Well, there is something going on."

"Oh."

"I'm in love."

Romulus gave Remus an odd look, his hazel eyes inquisitive.  His brown hair, Remus's exact shade, was tousled, and Remus had to fight hard to keep down his erection.  "With?"

"Well—" Remus faltered.  Could he tell his brother who it was? Could he, really? Would Romulus understand? "He is one of my friends."

Remus, looking at the floor, heard a sharp intake of breath.  "He? Mum won't like that."

"I know she won't.  That's why I'm telling you.  But he doesn't know I like him.  He thinks we're just friends."

"Ah.  What's his name?"

Remus didn't know now whether he could tell him.  The Blacks were well-known as dark wizards, trying to make muggle-hunting legal and the like.  But Sirius was different.  He was in Gryffindor! Of course he could tell his twin; if he took it wrongly, that was his problem.  "Sirius Black."

Raising his perfectly crafted eyebrows, Romulus gave Remus a look—he thought his brother was insane.  "You're in love with a Black? But…they're…dangerous.  And…aren't they all dark wizards?"

"He's not! He got sorted into Gryffindor, and the rest of his family was sorted into Slytherin.  He's different.  He's usually at James's, 'cause he hates his kin.  Refuses to acknowledge them, even."

"Hm.  Well, I guess if you love him…"

"Thanks.  But I don't know how to tell him.  I mean, I don't want to tell him and then he's too embarrassed to be my friend anymore." 

"Does he know?" Romulus asked quietly.

"Wha—of course he doesn't know! I just told you that I don't know how to tell him—"

"No, I mean…" he fiddled with the edge of the comforter on Remus's bed. "About your…lycanthropy, as it is."

"They all know, Rommie.  James, Peter, Sirius…Sirius figured it out, actually.  Can you promise to not tell anyone what I'm about to tell you?"

"Of course."

"Well, in our third year, Sirius figured it out.  James figured it out about a month later, and they both told Peter.  Well, it took them the rest of third year, fourth year, and about half of fifth…but the three of them became Animagi."

Romulus gawked.  "Three fifteen-year-olds became Animagi?! That's…that's…nearly impossible!"

"James and Sirius are the two smartest boys in our year.  The only one who could outsmart the two of them is probably Lily Evans.  But either way, they became Animagi.  But Romulus, they did it for me at Sirius's suggestion.  We'll go around Hogsmeade on the full moon.  When I'm with them, it's like I'm less the wolf and more Remus.  I can keep myself contained, I don't bite or scratch myself—usually. 

"But Romulus, I don't know how I can tell Sirius that I miss him so much—"

Romulus cut him off.  "That's why you were jumping off the bridge?!"

"Yeah.  But—"

"You were jumping off the bridge into the fucking Riviera because you missed him."

"Yes.  But Rom—"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think you'd—"

"You didn't think I'd understand?!"

Remus looked down meekly.  When Romulus built up a head of steam, the best thing to do was be submissive.  "Yes."

"YOU COULD HAVE JUST WRITTEN A LETTER TO HIM, OR TOLD ME, OR…OR…SOMETHING! REMUS, I DON'T—" Now it was Romulus's turn to falter.  "I don't want you getting hurt."

"I know, Rommie.  I wasn't thinking straight.  I just missed him so much…and I'm so sick of mother coddling me all the time, expecting me to make a decent pureblood marriage to a decent girl maybe when I'm old enough.  But she doesn't understand, she doesn't know what it's like to really be in love.  Her and father's marriage was arranged, and she likes him just fine, but she was never really in love with anyone." 

Slinging an arm around his brother, Romulus looked into eyes nearly identical to his own.  "I know."  He laid his head down on top of Remus's soft golden hair.  Rom sighed.  "I know.  Listen, I've got an idea."  He put his lips to Remus's ear and whispered something.  The smaller boy's gold-lit eyes brightened and he smiled.

A plan was in place.

fin ch. 1