Disclaimer: I do not own these characters; I seriously doubt you would want me to own these characters. I bow to the genius that is J.. Also to the co-creators of the Shoebox Project (which I steadfastly consider part of my canon), the magnificent ladyjaida and dorkorific. Much of my Sirius/Remus background comes from their genius.
Warnings: BOYxBOY If you don't like it, turn back now. No need to torture us all.
AN: Set roundabouts somewhere after chapter five of Deathly Hallows and follows canon fairly closely to a point. My changes: Sirius lives; Moody lives; there is no such thing as Remus/Tonks; Snape is still, at least partially, in the Order's good graces; and I've moved Bill and Fleur's wedding to the 20th of August rather than the 1st. Of course, anything after chapter five I've almost entirely reconstructed, thus the fanfiction.
Summary: What would you do if granted the opportunity to relive the best years of your life? An RLSB fanfic. Just give it a chance.
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Rensacentia
"Sirius. Sirius. Padfoot, you great lazy lump, wake up!" Remus said, shaking his black dustmop of a lover, but to no avail. Sirius, still currently in his animagus form from the night before, simply gave a snort and rolled onto his back.
Remus regarded him stonily. "You're impossible," he huffed.
The two had been called out to a skirmish with several mischief-making Death Eaters at around midnight, along with a few of the other senior Order members. Despite there being a full moon, Remus had insisted on coming, and Sirius had accompanied him as a large black dog. Not bothering to change back upon his return, Sirius had curled up next to Remus on the floor for the night.
"Come on, you don't want the kids to eat all of Molly's bacon, now do you?" Remus cajoled. "Think about it, Padfoot. Bacon."
The black nose twitched.
Finally Sirius rolled over and opened his eyes. He stretched casually and yawned, showing off sharp canine teeth and a ridiculously long tongue.
"Ugh, Merlin, you have dog breath," Remus complained, wrinkling his nose. "Change back, quickly. Something's happened."
The dog sat up and transformed. Remus felt a warm glow of recognition spread through him at the sight of the once again human youth. This was the young rebel Remus had fallen in love with all those years ago, not the corpse of a man who had spent twelve years in Azkaban for a crime of which he was innocent. But…how was it possible?
"Am I still dreaming, because you look particularly yummy this morning," Sirius said dazedly. He was staring, but Remus didn't blame him. After all, the years hadn't been kind to the unfortunate werewolf either. And yet now…
"This is real, Pads," Remus replied in wonderment. "Somehow…somehow we've woken up seventeen."
"Or eighteen," Sirius offered.
"Does it really matter?" asked Remus, frowning. "The point is, we're young again. Besides, your hair was longer when you were eighteen."
"Blimey," Sirius said. "But how…?"
"I'm still trying to figure that out."
The seconds ticked by in silence, but for the occasional snatch of early morning chatter rising from the kitchen far below.
"The white dust," Remus whispered, comprehension flitting across his scarred features.
The boys looked at each other in dawning realization.
"The dust—" Remus began again.
"We didn't notice it last night—"
"Well, we weren't in human form, and it was dark."
"Blimey, must have been—"
"Time," Remus finished. "Grains of time."
"Yaxley must have had a time turner on him when we jumped him," Sirius said, holding out his arms for personal scrutiny. "Why the bloody hell was he carrying a time-turner?"
"I don't know," Remus said. "And if it was a time-turner—well, how could it not be, really, but you do realize you've succeeded in destroying what was likely one of the few left, don't you?"
"Hey, for all I knew, it could have been something dangerous," Sirius defended himself. "Come to think of it, a time-turner in the hands of a Death Eater is about as safe as a chimera with a head cold. I performed a public service."
"I'll be sure to get you a medal," Remus said with a grin.
"Forget the medal, I just want to see Yaxley now," Sirius laughed, a wicked glint in his eyes. "The thing practically blew up in his face. Shame Snivelly already figured out a way to reverse the effects with Avery."
"Tragic," Remus deadpanned, still smirking.
"Isn't it though?"
Silence descended once again. Leaving Sirius to his own thoughts, Remus surveyed his image in the floor-length mirror across the room. His seventeen-year-old self stared back, hair no longer grey, features with fewer lines of the care and struggle of years of pain, the claw-scars from the summer before his sixth year considerably clearer than the faded lines they had come to be. Oh well. Sirius had always said they made Remus look "quite sexy," not that Remus necessarily agreed.
A loud whoop and a joy-filled bark of laughter were quick to startle Remus from his musings. Sirius was currently dancing around the room with a feather duster.
"Are you out of your head?" Remus asked curiously. "Please don't tell me this is some horrible side effect to the Time granules."
"I'm seventeen again, Rem! Do you realize what that means?"
"You're just as crazy as you were back then?"
"Remus, physically I was never in Azkaban!" Sirius cried excitedly.
"Physically, we never left Hogwarts," Remus pointed out.
"I know! Isn't it brilliant? I am sexy and godlike and completely unhindered," Sirius said, spinning in blissful circles.
"You are completely unhinged," Remus modified, though he, too, was grinning like an idiot. Remus gloried in the sheer ecstasy emanating from his lover.
The man—boy?—hadn't been this truly in years. This was how Sirius was meant to be, Remus reflected, not that downtrodden corpse he had become. And then a thought struck him.
"Hey, Sirius, you know, physically you are now the same age as your godson."
Sirius spun to a stop. "Oh, wow. Hey, you're right." The duster hit the floor. "Let's go show them!"
"Now? But I'm not dressed—" Remus started, but Sirius was out the door and gone.
"Sirius! Sirius, get your fuzzy arse back here!" Remus yelled after him, scrambling to pull clothes on. "Oh, you," he muttered indignantly, and then realized he'd been attempting to wear his pants backwards.
"Bugger."
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AN: Reviews are like crack, only better.