-1BLACK TIE by InFabula

Disclaimer: JK owns all these wonderful characters; I just borrowed them for a bit.

He almost had it! Brows furrowed in concentration, Remus stared at the image in the mirror. Nearly…nearly…

Then the hotel bedroom door was flung open and he threw his hands in the air in exasperation. Standing in the doorway was Sirius, suave, debonair and smug in the knowledge that his bow-tie was tied to perfection.

"Hurry up, Moony, or we're going to be really late as opposed to fashionably late." He closed the door and leaned against the wall, watching Remus's battle with the offending piece of neckwear with amusement.

"I-can't-get-it…enough!" Remus sprang up and started hunting through his robes which were strewn across one of the twin beds. "Where's my wand?"

"No magic!" Sirius was across the room in a second. He decided to take pity on him. "Here, let me look. Hold still."

Remus held still.

"Chin up," he instructed then frowned. "Mate, what did this bow-tie ever do to you?"

Finally unravelling the series of knots, he started to re-tie it and then stopped. "I can't do this back to front," he confessed. "Sit back in the chair in front of the mirror."

Remus did as he was told. Sirius reached round his neck and with a few expert moves, the bow-tie was in place.

He rested his chin on the top of Remus's head. "Not bad, Moony," he said, casting an appraising eye over the reflection. "You scrub up quite well you know."

Remus ignored him. "Tell me again how much all this cost," he waved a hand generally around the room.

"I've told you already, next to nothing. The hire of the evening wear was something miniscule and as for the room, well, you pay the one rate whether it's two people in it or one."

Sirius had on his most innocent expression: Remus's eyes narrowed. Some lies, some truth, he concluded. Probably the story about the room was correct but he doubted whether the clothes had come cheaply; Sirius would never have hired them if they had. He made a mental note to leave some more Galleons in Sirius's robes.

"You don't mind, do you?" Sirius suddenly straightened up, looking worried. "About the room, I mean? Did you want some privacy - I didn't even think -"

"Padfoot, I shared a dormitory with you for seven years. I don't think we have any secrets left, do we?"

"I guess not," Sirius looked relieved. "I thought it would be an adventure - a bit of fun."

Like a big kid who never grew up, Remus thought with wry affection. He picked up the two gilt-edged invitations from the dressing-table.

"What does RSVP mean?" he asked.

"It's a misprint," Sirius declared. "It should say "RSJP" - "Remus, Sirius, James and Peter"."

"In other words, you don't know either. Remind me why we're going again?"

Sirius gave a sigh. This was old ground. "Lily's grandmother and grandfather have been manacled in marriage for sixty years. That's not bad going for wizards but for Muggles it's definite cause for celebration. They're throwing a big party for their family and friends and James wants moral support."

"Well, he's got you for that, what am I doing there?"

"You're my moral support."

"I won't disagree your morals need all the support they can get, Padfoot, but why can't Peter go?"

Sirius raised his eyes heavenwards. "He is going, Moony. James and Lily invited all three of us. Peter's girlfriend's got Muggle parents, remember, and they're staying with them. What's the problem?"

"I just-I don't….I just don't!" Parties were the province of James, a natural mingler and the charismatic Sirius: even Peter was able to manage small talk successfully. Instinctively cautious, Remus found large social gatherings a personal hell.

"Look, no one there knows we're wizards apart from Lily's parents and they don't know about the wolf. How long is it till the full moon anyway?"

"Two weeks," Remus admitted with reluctance. "Alright, alright. I'm ready."

He stood up and looked at himself in a full-length mirror. Sirius followed him over and threw an arm around his shoulder. Remus wondered for the hundredth time how Sirius managed to make any clothes look wonderful: innate style, James had said long ago.

"Moony, old man," Sirius said admiringly, "you look almost as handsome as me. I may have to ask you for the first dance."

Remus looked horrified. "Dance? You never said anything about a dance!"