Author's Note:Well I put this up on my deviant art account and I thought I'd put it up here too. Tell me what you think. :3
Edit: Went through and revised a bunch of things. Still can't figure out how to indent. Erk.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Remus Lupin was never one for Quidditch. He didn't see the joy in training long hours and breaking bones all just to beat another team. Now books, there was something useful. Books never hurt (well, save for some in the restricted section) and there was always something to be learned from them. What did you learn from Quidditch? How to catch a little golden ball? Oh yes, what a life skill that was. Sure, Sirius had tried to convince the studious Prefect multiple times that Quidditch did in fact have some relevance to life, but it was all in vain. Remus just would not budge.
But then one day, something happened that changed the werewolf's view on the sport forever.
It wasn't a very good day to be playing Quidditch, that was for sure. But for some reason Remus' illogical roommates had decided that going out to the Pitch was a perfectly acceptable way to spend a rainy day.. The Pitch was very much empty, as no team in their right mind wanted to practice on this miserable day. The sensible werewolf had advised against playing in the rain, as they'd surely "catch their death," but the idiots had gone and done it anyways. Of course Remus went with them to supervise. It was more like babysitting with that lot, really. He was seated on the sidelines, a tattered brown umbrella shielding him from the rain. The other Marauders were flying around the pitch like gits, looking for that Snitch James had stolen. So far, no luck for any of them. After only ten minutes of play, poor little Peter had to take a break. It was down to Sirius and James. It never ended well when the two faced off.
Then it happened. Sirius and James spotted the Snitch. They dove for it simultaneously, side by side, neck and neck. The two elbowed each other, desperately trying to be the first to get that stupid thing. Faster and faster they went until James nudged a little too hard, causing Sirius to tumble sideways off his broom. To Remus it was all in slow motion. The graceful fall seemed to take forever, and the rain slowed to a near standstill. He'd warned those idiots!
The umbrella was cast aside rather foolishly as the Prefect jogged over to his fallen friend. Peter was right behind him, his breath coming in short bursts down Remus' neck. The Snitch was forgotten as James turned sharply back to the spot where Sirius had fallen. Remus was the first there, a jumble of words tumbling out of his mouth as he tried to ask if the dog was okay. No reply from said dog, as he was lying there rather motionless, making poor Remus pale.
"Is he dead?" Peter squeaked over his shoulder. This careless statement caused the werewolf to temporarily lose his calm demeanor and freeze up. After a moment he had enough sense to actually check if Sirius was really dead.
"Sirius?" he asked apprehensively, gingerly poking his friend's shoulder. Not a muscle moved. He tried again, his heart beating abnormally fast. Sirius couldn't be dead, it was impossible! Panic rising, Remus thought to check for a pulse. Oh Merlin, please let there be a pulse. With baited breath he leaned forward, placing two fingers to the other boy's neck. It was at this time that a phantom hand grabbed his wrist. There wasn't any time to figure out just who this hand belonged to, as it retreated just as quickly as it appeared, taking Remus' wrist with it. The poor boy was yanked down into Sirius as the dog leaned up to capture his lips. It was a rather brief and somewhat painful kiss, as it had been more of a crash really. Remus pulled away in horror, mouth hanging open and cheeks tinted pink. A smirk was plastered on the Sirius' face. He was obviously very much alive.
"Git," Remus muttered darkly as he turned on his heel and stormed away, leaving his friends laughing in his wake. He stopped briefly to grab his tattered old umbrella, though it was now useless as he was already quiet soaked. As soon as he was out of sight, a smile tugged at his lips. Maybe Quidditch wasn't so bad after all.