AN: In no way, shape, or form do I own any rights to the Harry Potter franchise.
It was raining again. Drizzling.
Everything looked new and fresh in the early morning mist.
It looked like . . . like anything could happen.
Remus Lupin, Hogwarts' beloved resident werewolf, stared out of the window in his dormitory, inhaling deeply the dewy scent. Suddenly, he made a decision. Perhaps he had been thinking about it for quite a while, perhaps it was a spur of the moment thing, but within seconds he had gathered his cloak, threadbare and frayed but still serviceable, looked briefly at the Map, trusting it even through the kinks they had yet to work out, and ran out the door and down the stairs, feet padding quietly in his old shoes.
Whispering an apology to the Fat Lady, indignant at being roused from her slumber, Remus ran toward the doors to the outside world, his cloak billowing behind him weakly. Noticing this, Remus gathered the runaway cloak in his hands, not wanting it to be caught on a suit of armor or something else. He had not mastered the art of the cloak sweep like Severus and some of the other Slytherins had.
The boy slipped his slim body through a tiny crack he made in the doors, not risking opening the doors any wider for fear they would creak and alert the entire school to his outing. In fact, Remus was rather surprised that he was leaving the school building at all. It must be Sirius and James rubbing off on him.
A blast of slightly chilly air hit him as he stepped out from under the small overhang outside the school; raindrops clattered against his unprotected head. One shake of his now damp head and he was off, sprinting recklessly across the grounds, leaving it to chance that he wouldn't be seen and punished for wandering.
He had to reach it!
Panting, his leg muscles aching, Remus stopped running. He parted some of the tall reeds growing on the shore of the lake, waving tiredly at the Giant Squid when it poked its head above the surface to see who was disturbing his rest. There it was, an unremarkable thing to say the least.
On the ground in front of his shoes was a pile of new-smelling dirt. It was obvious that it had been moved around rather recently as there were no weeds growing atop it. Grass roots were poking through the soil, extending into the air as if in a desperate plea for salvation. Reeds leaned over the small patch of overturned earth, sheltering it from the world. When Remus sat on the ground, the reeds obscured his view of the castle; when he lay down, Hogwarts was completely invisible. Water lapped gently on the shore as rain rustled the surrounding greenery and made ripples on the normally smooth water of the lake.
For a few moments the werewolf allowed himself to be captivated by the ever expanding rings. It was amazing, he speculated, that one raindrop could cause the entire lake to be changed, to have moved.
One of those raindrops happened to plop into his eye at that moment, rousing him from his reverie.
"Right," he said, voice low, and bent to the earth.
Slowly, reverently, he began to scrape the dirt away, piling it carefully a little to the side. Before long, his fingers were brushing a few bits of resilient soil away from a smooth surface. Satisfied with the cleanliness of what he held, Remus flipped it over.
It was a book. More specifically it was a photo album. Its cover was old, soft leather with cracks running through its engraved design, a night sky.
"The summer's day itself," Remus breathed on the cover, then opened it. The book was suddenly much bigger, filled with pages upon pages of memories.
He flipped through the pages quickly, intent on his search.
There was a picture of his parents holding hands and hugging. There was a picture of baby Remus shaking his rattle. There was a picture of an 11-year-old Remus, looking extremely nervous, scuffing his shoes on the pavement, a puffing train in the background. There was a picture of Hogwarts castle. Then there was a series of pictures of the four Marauders in various poses, all with mischievous smiles on their faces.
The flipping pages stilled. Remus looked at one photo, the final photo so far. He ran his fingers tenderly over it, fondling the corners fondly.
"What's that?" a loud voice asked.
Remus spun around, snapping the album shut, successfully hiding the picture of himself reading with Sirius sprawled atop him from . . .
"Sirius? What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing Moony," the dark-haired boy said, making himself comfortable on the ground next to the smaller boy.
"I'm serious Sirius - don't laugh! - why are you here?"
Sirius grinned at his friend at the pun. "Never gets old, does it Moony? Anyways, you weren't exactly secretive about leaving. Honestly, all I had to do was ask the Fat Lady where you had gone and the rest was easy."
Remus did remember telling the Fat Lady that he was just going to the lake for a while, nothing bad . . .
"But how did you know I was gone?" Remus said, struggling with forming coherent sentences with Sirius so close.
"Your shoes and cloak were missing," he explained logically.
"Yes Sirius, but why did you wake up?" Remus asked patiently.
"I was never asleep." Sirius flashed one of his famous grins at that.
Remus was taken aback.
"Why . . . ?" he managed.
"I was watching you." Sirius grinned again, more subdued this time. "You're quite . . . beautiful when you're thinking."
Remus had to strain his ears to catch that last part, but when he did a warm feeling filled him.
"R-really?" he stuttered, suddenly feeling the cold. Sirius noticed Remus's chattering teeth and pulled him closer.
"Yeah, really," he murmured into golden-brown hair, loving the feel of silky strands beneath his lips. "Now, what was it that you were looking at just now?" Sirius asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
"Nothing!" Remus said quickly, pulling away from Sirius and clutching the photo album close to his chest. "Nothing at all!"
"Please Moony?" Sirius pleaded, knowing instinctively that the album was important to Remus. It wasn't often that Sirius was given the chance to learn more about his studious friend, and he leaped at this chance.
"No! It's nothing!"
"Please?"
A short scuffle ensued once Sirius realized that Remus was never going to give up the book voluntarily. Sirius won and held the album triumphantly in the air.
"Haha! Bow to my brilliant scuffling ability!"
"Sirius, don't . . . " Remus begged softly.
Sirius looked down at Remus.
He really was quite a pitiful sight with bedraggled hair framing his lightly scared face, warm brown eyes glinting with unshed tears. His mouth was slightly open, a silent plea.
"Please . . . " he whispered again.
The tears were now threatening to spill down his cheeks. They were collected on Remus's pale eyelid. His slight frame was shivering slightly in the cold.
Sirius didn't want to make his Moony cry. In fact, Sirius would do anything to make his smaller friend not cry.
But he did want to see what Moony had been coveting . . .
Torn, Sirius froze. To look or not to look?
In his moment of indecision, his grip on the book loosened. It was already slick with water and sweat. Slowly, slowly, it fell to the ground.
Both Remus and Sirius gasped as it descended, but there was nothing they could do. It bounced slightly on the soil and opened to the final page. Remus slid from under Sirius and flung himself over the picture, but not before Sirius had seen it.
For once Sirius was struck speechless. His mouth opened and closed, no sound escaping his lips.
"Padfoot?" Remus asked worriedly after closing the album and muttering "The darling buds of May" to lock it. "Are you all right?"
Sirius's mind was whirling. Remus was looking at a picture of the two of them together with that nostalgic look on his face! Remus was worried that Sirius would see the picture, which meant that there was some reason he was keeping it a secret. It was a harmless snapshot, unless . . .
"Moony?" Sirius said hesitantly.
Remus nodded mutely, awaiting a tirade of ridicule.
"I really do think you're beautiful," tears threatened to spill from Remus's eyes again, "and brilliant, and amazing, and that you have amazing eyes, and I love your scars, and you're the best friend a guy could have."
"Sirius . . . " Remus said, fearing it was all a joke to his normally merry companion.
"Let me finish. Teachers love you, students love you, heck, the Giant Squid loves you." Softer then. "I love you."
Remus threw himself at Sirius then, almost knocking him over with the force of his tackle.
"I love you too, you great big idiot."
Sirius smiled at Remus carefully, not wanting to break the fragile thing that was installing itself into his heart.
The two stayed like that for a while, hugging like mad, shifting occasionally when the ground got too wet for them. They left all the problems they would face later on behind them and reveled in the feel of warmth radiating through cloaks, hands clutching hands.
"We should probably go tell James and Peter," Remus said reluctantly. He didn't really want to move.
"Probably," Sirius agreed readily. He made no move.
Remus nodded. And didn't move. Neither of them could tear themselves away from the other.
A while later, they began to hear student voices. It was a weekend, and even though it was drizzling, there would be inquisitive first years poking their noses into the reeds and shrieking at what they saw.
The thought of a screaming first year telling James and Peter the news roused Sirius from his contented state of mind.
"We really should go," he said gently, untangling their limbs with the utmost of care.
"All right."
Shaking the water from their cloaks, they stood and looked at each other again.
"I love you," Sirius whispered, tucking a strand of Remus's hair behind his ear.
"Same here," Remus said, catching Sirius's wrist as it was being withdrawn and squeezing reassuringly. "We can do this," he said for his own benefit more than Sirius's.
And at that they left the clearing, Remus carrying the photo album beneath his arm. He had no reason to hide it anymore.