Disclaimer: I think, by now, you know I don't own Harry Potter. I also don't own the poem "Wishbone" by Richard Siken. All rights go to respective owners.
Chapter Summary: Remus convinces James, Sirius, and Peter to go on a Muggle-style camping trip with him before seventh year. Away from the growing tensions of the Wizarding World, four young men celebrate the last summer of childhood. Stolen cars, Firewhiskey, possible confessions of love — it's a Marauder-style camping trip, not likely to be forgotten any time soon.
Prompt (Year Long Scavenger Hunt — Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges): Write a boys-only story (girls cannot be mentioned at all) [25 points]
Prompt (Trick or Treat [Halloween Event] — The Golden Snitch): Write a Sirius/Remus using the prompt: "There's a bottle of whiskey in the trunk of the Chevy and a dead man at our feet / staring up at us like we're something interesting. / This is where the evening splits in half, Henry, love or death. Grab an end, pull hard, / and make a wish." (quote) [5 points]
Boys Night Out: Marauder Style
Muggle Camping Grounds
3:37 p.m. on August 25, 1978
Remus watched his friends gather around the campsite, trying to complete the various tasks they had been assigned. Morale was quickly deteriorating. The drive over to the campsite had been fine (except for that slight hiccup in which Sirius revealed that he may, or may not have, "borrowed" the vehicle they were using for the weekend), but now he was maybe regretting suggesting this particular adventure at all.
"Oh, yes. This was a great idea. Let's go on a Muggle-style camping trip," Sirius said sarcastically. He tried, for the fourth time that afternoon, to pitch one of the tents they had brought, only for it to immediately collapse.
"It's not that bad," Peter said, as he dropped some firewood onto the ground. He quickly deflated under the glare Sirius sent him.
"Well, it's not," he muttered. "At least, we get to get away from the War for a bit."
"Gentlemen!" James stepped in, grinning at each of his friends, "it's going to be fine! Look, we have water, food, and firewood. As soon as we get these tents set up, everything will be perfect!"
"Can't we use magic? Please! Just to set up these tents!" Sirius whined.
Remus swiftly grabbed the rest of the supplies from the truck and deposited them by the firewood. Brushing the dirt off his hands, Remus tried to resolve the building tension.
"It will be fine!" he reassured Sirius. "Look, let me help you. Maybe we can figure it out together."
Sirius grumbled, but looked slightly happier as they worked on getting the sleeping accommodations built. It took a few tries, with Peter snickering at their failed attempts, but after another forty minutes, they had successfully managed to get both tents to stay upright.
"Is anyone hungry?" Remus asked. When he got a nod from the three other Marauders, Remus formed a plan.
"Okay, while there is still light, maybe we should get a fire going?" Remus suggested. "Then we can make dinner and s'mores."
"What are s'mores?" Sirius asked curiously.
"Muggle desert," James replied, "I'll show you how to make one later."
"How do you know Muggle deserts, James?" Peter questioned.
"Well, it sounds like a good idea, Moony!" James said loudly, elbowing Sirius — who was trying to disguise laughter as coughing — in the ribs. "Do you have matches?"
"Peter was supposed to bring them."
The three Marauders turned and stared at the fourth, who was not looking at them and trying to appear busy.
"Peter? Did you remember to bring the matches?" Remus prodded.
"Um, no?" Peter looked down and scoffed the dirt with his toe.
Sighing, James asked, "Do you know how to make a fire?"
"Besides rubbing two sticks together and hoping for the best?" Remus asked rhetorically.
"Right. Can we please use magic now?" Sirius said.
Muggle Camping Grounds
11: 29 p.m. on August 25, 1978
They ended up using magic for a bit more than starting the fire. Sirius pointed out that maybe the should put up Muggle repellant wards (after all, they didn't want Muggles hearing any conversations about a magical school or Dark wizards terrorizing the country, right?) and James added extra privacy charms. Remus gave in to using magic on the trip and cast insect repellant charms over the campsite. Nobody likes mosquitos.
Sirius had passed out the Firewhiskey after dinner and it had quickly made the rounds, leaving Sirius, James, and Peter completely drunk. Remus had chosen to stick with s'mores. While the marshmallow was alright, the chocolate was his favorite part.
Peter had passed out on a blanket next to the fire about an hour ago, leaving the three other Marauders to contemplate the big questions about life.
"H-How do you go about wooing someone?" James slurred.
Sirius snorted and took another swig of Firewhiskey. Remus tried to look serious and thoughtful, but ultimately failed. They both knew exactly who it was James was trying to impress.
"'Woo'?" Remus asked, laughter sneaking into question.
"Hell if I know, mate," Sirius said at the same time.
"Don't laugh! I really need to know," James glared at the other two boys. "How would you woo someone? Sirius, how would you woo Moony?"
Everyone froze.
"What? Why would I want to woo, Moony? You're wasted, Prongs!" Sirius declared. Sirius shot Remus a half glance and quickly looked down at the bottle in his hands.
"But seriously, how would you do it?" James pressed.
When Sirius refused to answer, James shrugged and got up. "I'll see you guys in the morning," he said casually, walking into one of the tents and closing it behind him.
"Be brave," Remus shouted after him, "and be yourself!"
Sirius and James heard a muffled acknowledgement came from the tent. The sounds of the forest and Peter's snores soon filled the void. After a minute, Remus and Sirius both looked up at each other. Remus was unsure of what to say — what had James really meant by that question? — but Sirius spoke first.
"Be brave and be yourself?"
Remus shrugged, still trying to catch up with were the conversation had led.
"I think it will help him," he replied.
Sirius nodded to himself, before slowly grinning. He stood up and stumbled over to Remus.
"Moony! Moo-ny! I shall woo you!"
Remus raised an eyebrow. He wasn't sure where this was going, but it didn't sound good.
"And how, my I ask, are you going to do that?"
Sirius struck what Remus assumed he thought was a dashing pose and said dramatically, "How else, but with poetry, my fair prince?"
What?! Did he just say my fair prince? And did he say poetry? Oh, this definitely wasn't good.
"There's a bottle of Firewhiskey in the trunk of the…" here Sirius peered at the back of the truck, which was parked nearby, "Chevy! Hey, this fits the poem!"
"Are you reciting Muggle poetry?" Remus asked, completely bewildered.
"—and a dead man at our feet!" Sirius continued, gesturing to Peter, who was still passed out on the ground. Sirius had either ignored or simply did not comprehend that Remus had asked him something.
"Oh my god."
"—Staring up at us like we're something interesting—"
"You're something interesting, all right."
"Shhh!" Sirius said in a loud stage whisper. He waved at Remus to quiet down. "This is where the evening splits in half, Henry—"
"My name is Remus."
"—Love! … Or death! Grab an end and pull hard," here Sirius knelt down, holding something in his hands that Remus couldn't quite make out in the light of the dying fire, "and make a wish!"
The silence descended over the campsite, only broken by Peter's erratic snores. When Remus didn't move, Sirius — like a young child — nudged what he was holding closer to him. It was then that Remus saw that he was holding a small twig.
"Why do you want me to break a twig?" Remus asked, using the same tone he would use to speak to a small child.
"For love! And for wishes!" Sirius said, looking up at Remus with a confused expression. "Don't Muggles break sticks to make wishes?"
"But we're not— Never mind. Anyway, I think you mean wishbones," Remus said, fighting a smile.
"Wishbone? Where can I get one?" Sirius asked quickly.
"Um, I think a chicken or a—" Remus began to explain, before quickly being interrupted by a loud gasp.
"A chicken?" Sirius' eyes grew wide. "What?! Really?!"
"Yes…" Remus said slowly.
Without warning, Sirius jumped to his feet and bolted into James' tent with surprising agility. Remus heard Sirius shout at James, as he also most likely started violently shaking their best friend awake.
"James! JAMES! We have to find a chicken! CHICKENS GRANT WISHES! James!"
Remus collapsed in breathless laughter. Seconds later, Sirius stumbled out of the tent, with James shooting jinxes at the fleeing, drunk Marauder.
"Moony! What have you done?"
Remus continued laughing as Sirius drunkenly tried to explain to James why chickens were important and just why exactly he need one. James was tired, but was able to work out one key detail. Turning, he shouted at Remus.
"Moony! Just make a wish with the bloody stick and let the rest of us sleep!"
"But it was sad poetry! I can't be properly wooed with sad poetry!"
At James' pointed glare, Remus gave in.
"Okay, okay!" he waved his hands in a pacifying gesture. "Okay!"
He turned to Sirius, who held out the twig, and gently broke it in two. Sirius grinned at Remus, eyes shining.
"For love and wishes?" he asked hopefully.
There was something that stopped Remus from brushing his question aside. Maybe he didn't want to be cruel to a friend, but that wasn't completely it… Determined to figure it out in the morning, he shook away the confusion.
"For love and wishes," he replied.
"You're my favorite!" Sirius shouted, and gave Remus a hug.
Laughing, Remus hugged Sirius, before pulling back. "You're not going to remember this in the morning, are you?" he asked, surprised at the amount of sadness in his heart at the thought.
"Of course, I will! I don't forget things about you!" Sirius replied happily.
"Great. Sirius doesn't forget things, you broke a stick for love and wishes, and poetry is only good for wooing if it is happy," James rapidly summarized. "Now can someone please grab Peter and put him in a tent, so we can all sleep?"
As Remus was the most coherent of the three, he levitated Peter into one of the tents. After he took care of Peter, Remus changed into pajamas and heard Sirius chide James in a loud tone.
"Use happy poetry, Prongs! Sad poetry is bad!"
Remus smiled to himself as he finished getting ready for bed. Maybe this camping trip would work out in the end after all.
