"You are made," James says, as they lay on the hill that leads to Hagrid's hut, gazing up at the stars, "of sixty-five percent water, and thirty- five percent stardust. Isn't that incredible?"
"I don't think the other thirty- five is stardust, James."
"No," and he waves his hand above them, smoke from his cigarette leaving a hazy path behind it. "It is. We are made of the stars."
He pauses, and they wait for him to continue. He always does.
"That means that everybody who's ever scared you is essentially a sack of water." James takes a drag of his cigarette. "And everybody you love is a star."
They digest that, the four of them. The quiet is broken only by the light breeze that rustles the nearby trees, and the sound of cigarettes crackling as they're sucked on.
James turns his head to grin at Remus. Remus grins back. "It's beautiful," he agrees. Peter nods, mouth slightly agape, eyes blurring as he stares intently at the star directly above him.
Sirius opens his mouth to say something, closes it, opens it again. His pale arm jerks upwards. "That's my star. The bright one. Sirius."
The other three obediently turn their heads to gaze at it.
"Wicked," James breathes.
"Nice," Remus remarks.
"Which one?" Peter says.
"That one. No, not that one, that one, you twerp."
The moment is lost, but it doesn't matter, because it's being replaced by another one. They can go from quiet and melancholy to higher than the birds in seconds flat, the four of them. They ground each other, push each other, drive each other crazy and keep each other sane.
Remus can't stand James' obsession with converse.
James hates Peter's laugh.
Peter despises Sirius' OCD.
Sirius could quite happily drown Remus in a vat of silver every time he corrects his pronunciation of the word 'omnipotent'.
"No, no, there. Good grief, Pete, did you lose your last brain cell when you fell over earlier?"
"I didn't fall, James pushed me. And there's loads of stars!"
"Here." James thrusts his glasses at Peter. "Try with them."
Sirius snatches them away before Peter can react and shoves them on his own face.
Momentary silence, and then: "Holy hell, Prongs, your eyesight is appalling. I can see Uranus." The four of them break off into quiet sniggers, which get louder- louder- louder- and they're curled up in the most awkward of positions in an attempt to muffle their hysterical laughter, as well as ease the stomach ache said laughter is giving them all.
"Merlin, Pads," Remus gasped, "Ruin the mood, much?"
"I prefer this mood," James snorts into his arm. "My hormones are all a-flutter. I've been waiting for the day when he dumps his entourage for my toned cheeks."
They start laughing again, and it's not even that funny, but that just makes them howl louder.
Three hours, three packets of Marlboro Lights and three minor scuffles later, they're back to staring at the stars. It's half past two in the morning.
"Pass me the cigs, Moony."
"You're going to smoke yourself into an early grave."
"I'd rather gas myself out than cop it as a result of your PMS-induced rages."
"Stop calling it that, idiot." Remus throws the Marlboros at Sirius, and they listen to the flick of the lighter, the inhale, the exhale. Peter watches smoke drift away, entranced.
"Twosies." James holds out his arm and Sirius begrudgingly passes him the cigarette.
Peter shifts, resting his head on both arms. "Are we actually made of stardust?"
"Yeah," James says before Remus can get a word in. "Haven't you noticed the way I fade in the sun? You should see me sparkle."
"Gay," Sirius sniggers.
"You can't talk, Star-boy."
"Sod off. You know I'm only on this planet because a star falls everytime a fairy dies, right? You're doing a pretty good impression of being alive, Potter."
"Go glitter somewhere else."
"Yes," Remus says over their bickering, "But not in the way you think. Humans are made up of the same atoms that form stars. Near everything is."
James pauses. "I thought it was everything. Like, everything in the Universe is made of the same atoms."
"Fuck off, are we," Sirius disagreed. "Not sharing my atoms with anybody."
James roars with laughter, while Remus shakes his head and rolls his eyes at Peter.
"You ignorant goof," James chortles, while Sirius grins.
"All miney-mine-mine!"
Peter laughs, too, but his eyes don't leave Sirius for a while. He watches the way the other boy grins, pouts, flicks his hair, fidgets- he never stops fidgeting- and wonders if it's true, the thing about the stars.
If it is, Sirius is definitely more star than the rest of them.
"Moony?"
"Yeah."
"You asleep?"
Remus slowly turns to stare at James, who's eyes are fixed on the castle. "You realise that was me that just replied to you, yeah?"
"I thought it might have been Wormy perfecting his Moony- impression. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, you know. He's got your Perfect Prefect lectures down pat."
"Sod off," comes Peter's voice.
"You've been imitating me?" Remus says, mock- offended.
"It's pretty good, actually. Do it for us, Petey!"
"No."
"Yes!"
"No."
"Yes! Sirius, make him do it!"
The three wait for A) a comment referring to James' choice of wording; B) Sirius jumping at the chance to poke Peter until he submits; C) Sirius sitting on Peter until he submits; D) Sirius blowing on Peter's ear until he submits; or E) Sirius threatening Peter at wand- point until (and while) he submits.
Nothing.
"I can't believe it," James says, "The dick's fallen asleep. The infallible has fallen."
"You know he didn't sleep last night?" Remus says casually.
"Neither did I. Sounded like a jackhammer was being started up in Peter's bed."
"Sod off," Peter says, for the fiftieth time that night.
"No, he didn't even go to bed."
James turns to squint at Remus. "What was he doing, then?"
"I believe," Remus says slowly, "He was drawing certain parts of the male anatomy on every page of your Hogwarts: A History, as well as on every third line of your Potions essay."
James considers this, then shrugs and leans back on his elbows. "It's okay," he says, sounding unusually reasonable. "The tables have, as they say, turned. I would go as far as to compare these turn tables to taking a full 180. Wormy, pass me his bag. Moony, give me your quill. Only a fool would lower his guard after pulling something as outrageous as that."
"What are you going to do?" Peter says, lifting Sirius' bag over his sleeping friend.
"I am going," James says cheerfully, "To find his Astronomy star chart, his Transfiguration essay, and his Magical Creatures coursework; and on them all, I am going to carefully diagram the process of procreation. I.e, sex. Stickman- style."