Remus was the only one among them who had never ridden a broomstick.
"I've got to focus on my studies instead!" he protested, as his feet slid on the wet grass surrounding the Quidditch pitch. "We have a Potions essay due! I'll just watch! Sirius!"
"Sirius, you better let him go, or he might refuse to write your essay for you," joked James, his dark hair blown about in the light breeze. Peter scurried along at his side, looking up at James with shining, eager eyes. They watched on, amused, as Sirius continued to drag Remus along.
"Sirius, please!"
Sirius released his grip on Remus's arm long enough to turn around and stare at him with a glint of mirth in his chocolate brown eyes. Remus stared back, his fingers tingling strangely. A smile fought at the corners of his mouth, but he repressed it. He was angry. Then Sirius grabbed his arm again and resumed dragging him to the field, the beat-up Cleansweep slung around Sirus's shoulder banging against his thigh as he walked with his characteristic swagger.
"You'll like it, I promise!" he yelled, overriding Remus's continuous complaints. Remus furrowed his eyebrows and glared on in stony silence for the remainder of the walk. He heard James chuckle behind him, followed by Peter's snicker a second later.
When they reached the arched entranceway to the pitch, Remus tugged his arm out of Sirus's grasp.
"I can walk by myself now, thanks," he muttered.
"Why, Moony, are you saying you're willingly going along with this?"
"Obviously I don't have a choice," replied Remus, but a smile broke through his angry façade.
"If he makes a run for it I'll catch him," offered James, but Remus wasn't planning on running. He'd resigned himself to seeing this through, even though his fear of heights made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Though he knew the enchantments and magic involved in keeping it aloft, Remus could never understand how the little broom managed to whisk full-grown adults about two hundred feet in the air.
"Did you bring a broom for me?" asked Peter, out of breath from struggling to keep up with Sirus's long strides. Sirius glanced over with annoyance written all over his handsome, boyish features.
"Must've forgotten," he said shortly. James looked apologetic.
"Why don't we go back and get one from the broom shed?" asked Peter, looking at James with eyes that pleaded for acceptance. James sighed and glanced at Sirius, who was looking at Peter with barely concealed distaste. Remus stood between them, unsure of what to do.
"We'll be right back," he told Remus, silently giving him permission to continue on with Sirius, who nodded. James and Peter quickly hurried back towards Hogwarts, which cast shadows onto the Quidditch pitch.
"Come on then, Remus," he said, grasping the hem of Remus's shirt and tugging him gently towards the center of the field. Remus went willingly, stumbling into step next to Sirius and flashing him a quick smile. Butterflies spawned in his stomach, and he realized he must be more afraid of flying than he thought.
They reached the center of the sunny field and Sirius threw the Cleansweep on the grass, planting his hands on his hips and staring at Remus.
"Well, the first step is calling it, just like in Flying class," said Sirius, a touch of amusement entering his voice. Remus shook his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes and cleared his throat, his heart beginning to pick up pace.
"Up," he said, willing the broom to fly into his hand so he wouldn't embarrass himself in front of—in front of his friend. To his delight, after a moment's hesitation the old broom drifted to his fingertips and stayed there, hovering in front of him in the balmy spring air.
"There, see? You're a natural. Now you've got to get on."
"And how am I supposed to go about doing that?"
"Here." Sirius held out his hand, slightly calloused from five years of Quidditch playing, and Remus took it gingerly. A smile came unbidden to his mouth, and Sirius smiled back, drifting closer in a way that seemed natural. He brought his other hand to Remus's face. His thumb traced Remus's temple and made adrenaline rush through his veins.
"Sirius?"
"Yeah?"
"Y-you, too?"
"Always." He cracked a cocky smile and pulled Remus closer to him. Before Remus could fully process what was happening, that his best friend, whom he'd had a crush on since year three, liked him in return, Sirius kissed him. Remus's hand found the back of Sirius's head and he slid his fingers through his long, black hair, kissing back with a ferocity he didn't know he possessed.
All too soon they broke apart, grinning at each other madly. Sirius chuckled, plunging one hand into the pocket of his robe and keeping the other around Remus's waist.
"Let's get you up on that broom, yeah?" Sirius moved his hand to Remus's and clasped it tightly as Remus swung a leg over the broom. He grasped the wooden handle and exhaled, trying to calm his nerves.
"Hey," said Sirius, noticing Remus's reluctance. "You can do it." He leaned over and planted a kiss on Remus's cheek, making him blush. He sighed.
"Okay. I can do it."
"Just lean forward slightly, and—" With a whoosh, Remus zipped into the sunshine-filled air, hurtling up at a speed he didn't expect from such an old broom. He pulled up on the handle gently, willing more than controlling the broom. To his relief, the broom slowed down and leveled, and he looked down in astonishment at the ground, which seemed miles below him now.
"You've got it!" yelled Sirius, and Remus could see his smile, which warmed the cold ball of nerves in his stomach. He bit his lip and cautiously removed one tense hand from the handle of the broom to wave. Sirius blew him an exaggerated kiss, and suddenly Remus smiled. He was as relaxed as he was in quiet library. He was finally flying, in more ways than one.