Remus was in fourth year when he read Jeanne Marie Le Prince de Beaumont's Beauty and the Beast.
The quiet crinkle of turning pages in the boys' dormitory was lost among the soundtrack to Remus' life: air moving (a whoosh sound from pillows whipping through the dorm), shouting (has no one learned how to use their inside voices?), and the random thump... thump... thump... of moving bodies. Moving teenage bodies with gangly limbs that, for some peculiar reason, had just stricken Remus across the face. With a petulant toss of his head, Remus growled in the direction of the disturbance, "Could you possibly be any more annoying?"
Currently, that direction was occupied with Sirius Black. Or, rather, his face: a huge grin around perfectly white teeth, with a bit of a chip in one, framed by supple pink lips above a square, clefted jaw, and below a small, pointed nose.
Their breaths were mingling, warm puffs of air, and their eyes were locked; honey-gold on graphite grey. Remus' face went to a carefully calculated blank, but his heart was pounding.
Sirius smiled wickedly. "Could you possibly brush your teeth? Your breath smells like chocolate, Earl Grey, and rabbit feet." Of course, he had to infuse his slightly charming, and more than subtly offensive, humor.
Remus rolled his eyes, controlling his voice as to keep it level. "Could you get out of my personal space?"
"Could you admit that you don't want me out of your 'personal space?'" Sirius quipped in retaliation, his warm, sugar quill scented puffs of breath striking Remus's nostrils, who then had to refrain from inhaling too obviously. Of course, Sirius was joking- he had a jovial and boisterous personality, always ready to get in your personal space for a bit of fun.
"Could you both shut up and snog already," James piped in with a chuckle, ignoring Peter's awkward squeak of protest from his bed.
Remus pulled away, sighing to himself. "I'm not snogging Padfoot; I'm reading. There is quite a difference." He gave a fake huff of indignation- it was very hard to actually be cross with Sirius Black and the other Marauders- and turned back to his book.
"My name is not My Lord," replied the monster, "but Beast; I don't love compliments, not I. I like people to speak as they think..."
Remus knew that going philosophical about fictional characters, and quite possibly taking life lessons away from them, was either mad or girly, but he couldn't help what torrents his mind took to. At that moment, his mind torrents directed him towards that oddly depressive, cynical viewpoint of the world that no 15-years-old boy should have possessed. Remus was entirely sure in his opinion that people's minds should be spoken (when appropriate, mind you. Sirius was still suffering from that misplaced comment about a certain Miss Evans and the cotton broomstick.). After all, wasn't it better to be offended and informed than content and ignorant? Which left Remus to wonder as to how much in common he had with the Beast. There was the entire I-Live-In-A-Castle thing, the Everyone-Hates-I-Am-And-What-I-Am-Is-Covered-In-Fur thing, and the I-Live-With-A-Beautiful-Human-Being-Who-Is-So-Much-More-Than-Their-Family thing. If he was being completely honest with himself, there was also the I-Love-The-Aforementioned-Person thing going on, too.
Shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts (and disheveling his hair in a manner Sirius found delicious, though Remus did not know this) Remus continued reading.
It was dinner by the time he got to, "He married Beauty, and lived with her many years, and their happiness - as it was founded on virtue - was complete."
The story had ended with a happy ending- of course it had, it was a fairytale! Sighing wistfully, he closed the book with a resounding thud. If only his story could end so seamlessly. He walked outside of the dorms, only to find Sirius leaning against the doorframe wearing a smirk.
"You're late to dinner. Always the bookworm. You'll be eaten by the early birds if you keep it up."
"Was that meant to be clever?"
"We all know you're the smart Marauder, Moony. Don't judge us lower lifeforms- or our feeble attempts at humor."
"Oh, do shut up," Remus replied with an exasperated laugh. "Lets just go to dinner."
The boys began their walk, never noticing if their shoulders were just a tad too close, or if their hands were brushing just a bit more than normal.