DISCLAIMER: Anything you recognise belongs to JKR.


Golf


"But what is the point?"

Remus sighed and shook his head, not bothering to try and explain the muggle sport of golf for a third time. He didn't much care for the game anyway, though his Grandfather McManus played it religiously every second Saturday and had dragged Remus along a few times last summer now that he was a teenager and therefore 'old enough to appreciate these things'. Of course none of Grandfather's friends had known about magic, which made for boring conversations about his imaginary school.

Now Remus focused on directing Sirius and James's stares away from the men in vests swinging clubs and back to the tent they were supposed to be helping Peter erect muggle-style.

"Once they clear out, it'll make for a good game of night Quidditch," James murmured with a grin as he scooped up a handful of pegs and held them uncertainly, staring at the mound of wriggling cloth which Sirius had just dumped on Pete, trying to divine where they were supposed to go.

After half an hour of fun wrestling and Sirius accidentally getting whacked in the foot with the mallet, Remus sent Peter and Sirius to get firewood while he corralled James into following his instructions. Less than a minute after they hammered in the last peg and Pete and Sirius returned with their third armful of branches the rain that had been threatening all afternoon began, chasing away the last of the golfers on the far side of the fence. They lingered over plates of soggy beans on soggier toast cooked over the tiny fire just outside the tent's flap until the first stars showed through the thinning clouds.

As they grabbed their brooms and raced for the wide flat of the golf course lit by the shaky globs of light at their wand-tips Remus took a moment to glare at the waxing moon, peeking through the clouds, taunting him.

"Hurry up Moony!"

With a shake of his head—there was nothing he could do about it—he followed after his trio of friends.