Ridiculous – 7/50 for the OTP Bootcamp Challenge.
Also written for week three (yes, it's late) of the 52 Weeks of Writing 2013 Competition With the prompts: ridiculous, mirror, tie, Care of Magical Creatures, teddy bear, grave, and, "What the…"
The man that stared back at Sirius from the mirror had nervousness written all over his face. Pale and fumbling with his tie, he watched as the reflection's gaze grew more and more desperate, and tried to paste a smile on his face to stop the nauseated look from spreading further. He knew for a fact that crazed Black eyes did not look good. Bella had proven that to him early on. Sirius pushed her from his mind and looked at himself again.
He almost looked frightening, his usually stunning—if he did say so himself—features being washed away by the waves of anxiety that were rolling through him.
"You are going to be fine," he told himself, though it did not sound comforting. Not even to his own ears. "Merlin, get a grip, Padfoot!"
He glanced at the clock. Great, he had just enough time to throw up in the toilets before Remus returned from his Care of Magical Creatures class.
He caught his own eye once again and glared. It was feeble, not holding enough venom to scare even a fly. "Stop thinking," he told himself. "And just do it. You can do this. You can—" his mind thought fleetingly to his old teddy bear, the one he had snuck in from Hogsmeade up to the dorm. He needed a hug. Desperately. It was no time for trying to be manly and heroic. He just needed comfort, otherwise he was going to be sick all over his expensive robes.
"God, you are so pathetic," the mirror told him.
"What the…" Sirius wondered for a second if he had gone mad, and then caught sight of the mirror again. His reflection waved helpfully, and Sirius told himself to stay away from caffeine. It was making him hallucinate. Were those gasping sounds coming from him?
"Sirius, honey. Magic." His reflection said. Sirius finally cottoned on and began to mentally curse fucking magical mirrors that stayed silent until they spotted the opportunity to induce heart attacks. "You need to get a grip. You will worry yourself straight to an early grave, and don't you think that be a waste of your good looks?"
Maybe magical mirrors were not so bad, Sirius mused. "Keep talking," he said.
Instead, his reflection waggled his eyebrows at Sirius, and then walked out of the frame, leaving Sirius feeling speechless. He had just enough time to run a hand through his hopelessly messy hair, wondering how he was going to get it under control without a reflection, before a knock sounded at the door.
Sirius, bewildered because classes were still going on and he had told Remus to meet him in front of the library, whirled around to look at the door. Should he open it?
Another knock sounded out. "Sirius," Remus called. "Are you in here?"
Sirius nearly swallowed his tongue in his haste to answer. "Ye-Yes, Moony. I'm here."
"Why'd you lock the door? You weren't in class today so I said I didn't feel well and was let out early. You've had me worried sick—what's wrong?"
"Nothing," Sirius' eyes were darting around the room, and his heart threatened to burst out his throat. "It's nothing. H-hey, I thought we were going to meet after class in front of the library."
"Let me in. We are both not in class thanks to your antics, so you might as well tell me whatever it was now. Merlin, I thought something was wrong, and now you won't even let me in my own dormitory." Remus sounded amused, but Sirius caught the worry as well. For a moment, the frenzied beating in his chest stopped and he was in danger of melting on the floor of their dormitory. Remus had been worried about him.
Another knock, one that sounded annoyed (if that was even possible) broke him out of his thoughts.
"Um…" Sirius did not want to face Remus, hadn't had time to work his courage up yet. "I'm not decent, give me a moment."
"Sirius," Remus sounded like he had that one-eyebrow-raised look on his face. "I have showered with you for the past six years, caught you wanking, winking at McGonagall, and trying to lick James' toes without him noticing. Sometimes more than once a day. Sometimes - often - two of those back-to-back. There is no possible way you are any more indecent right now. Padfoot, I'm coming in."
The door, after a muttered spell from Remus, opened. Sirius wanted to cover himself, but his eyes were caught immediately by Remus' wary look.
"You are decent, Sirius, what were you talking abou—Is that a tie?" Remus licked his lips and Sirius wanted desperately to imagine that it was a reaction to seeing him. Remus composed himself. "So... where were you, Padfoot?"
"Nowhere, I was waiting for you. Here."
"Wearing that?" Remus looked skeptical.
"Um—" Sirius smoothed his shirt and robes—the nicest he owned—down and tried to give Remus a winning smile. "Yeah, see… I have something I want to tell you."
"Very well," Remus said, looking confused, still a little wary, but eager. "Whatever it is, it must have been important. Oh, do hurry up. I'm desperate to hear about the girl that got you to dress like this."
Sirius wondered, for half a second before nervousness gripped him again, why Remus snarled the word 'girl'. "See... That is... I dressed like... I wanted to... Ahem, Moony. I-I like you. Romantically. I mean... I just..."
"Shut up, Sirius." Remus cut him off, and Sirius nearly died, terrified and moments away from wetting himself. "Um... I-kind of—I mean, it's a little…"
"Sudden?" Sirius felt his cheeks burn, but tried to stay strong. Years of training as a Pureblood kept him from embarrassing himself completely by doing something like bursting into tears.
"No… I mean—Sorry, I'm rubbish at this. I like you, too. I have for... a while."
Sirius inhaled so suddenly that he almost choked. A supressed cough brought more colour to his cheeks, but he was too happy to mind. "You do? Oh... Yay! Wow, I didn't expect... Moony, are you serious?" A half-hysterical laugh escaped him and he didn't know what to do but pull Remus into a tight hug.
Remus returned the embrace, pulling away a few seconds later with a wide grin stretching his lips. "Yes, but I have to say that you look—"
"Fabulous, charming, debonair, elegant?"
"Ridiculous. You're not wearing any trousers, Padfoot."
I usually don't add author's notes down here, but I wanted to say that this was a lot of fun to write and should not be taken too seriously (Siriusly). Thanks for reading!