Green Apples and Dark Chocolate
Remus trudged up the stairs, a large stack of library books obscuring everything from his slightly scarred nose down to his thin, lithe waist. An apple tottered precariously atop the heavy pile, threatening to fall off at any moment. Remus, though, was careful to maintain his balance. If the apple were to fall then he would have to set his books down in order to retrieve said fruit, running the risk of overturning the pile of books and thus disorganizing them. And that, for Remus Lupin, was unthinkable.
So Remus continued up the winding staircase, eyeing the apple as it jittered unsteadily on top of the books, about to fall over. He was really looking forward to eating that apple. In some inexplicable way, apples satisfied him in ways other fruits could not. Moreover, this wasn't just any apple he was sacrificing his secure footing for, it was a green apple; the best breed of apple, and entirely underrated. Some people immediately cast them aside because they are not as perfectly tempting as red apples. Who would want to eat a sour apple anyway? This only caused Remus to relate to the apple though, firmly ignoring the fact that it was an inanimate object existing for the sole purpose of gluttony.
Remus figured that if he were a fruit, he would be a green apple, cast aside by society although thoroughly enjoyable once one got used to the tart flavor. He also deduced that James would be a watermelon; a nice fresh taste during the routine summer heat, each black seed symbolizing his quirky flaws (like his incessant need to further mess his unmanageable frock of hair whenever a certain redhead entered the room). Peter, he rationalized, would probably be a round juicy grape; always striving to be with and act like others (he had once told Remus that he feels weak and vulnerable by himself). Sometimes Remus wonders why and how he comes to parallel his friends to fruits, but pushes this thought aside to find a suitable role for the fourth stormy-eyed marauder. He can't leave anybody out now, can he?
This is easier said than done, however. Sirius is a whole different matter. Sometimes Remus feels that he knows Sirius better than he knows himself, when at other times he thinks that the real Sirius was beamed up into space and replaced by an alien stand-in. His black-haired friend really baffles him sometimes… The way he struts about the hallways as if he's king of Hogwarts, but then pulls himself and Remus into an abandoned classroom for a much-needed hug… The way Sirius says some things that mean nothing at all, but says nothing that means everything to Remus… And the way Sirius walks into the Gryffindor common room, hair dripping and face flushed, after a Quidditch practice in the rain... The way this seems to give Remus butterflies and suddenly render his encyclopedic mind completely and utterly useless.
Perhaps Sirius would be dark chocolate, slightly bitter, yet deliciously sweet. This was the best sort of chocolate, and Remus' one undeniable weakness. Remus sighed at the thought of such a delectable delicacy, and licked his lips as if expecting remnants of chocolate to be hiding in the corners of his mouth. No such luck.
Snapping out of his reveries, Remus looked up to find himself at the portrait of the Fat Lady (who was currently trying to nose in on a conversation two paintings over without abandoning her post; a most difficult task indeed). He muttered the password and stepped into the common room only to be thrown haphazardly against the wall, books scattering in every direction. He watched as his precious apple flew up into the air, bumping into a book alongside it as it made its descent. He winced as it hit the stone floor with a hard thump, bouncing once before a particularly large book fell upon it. He looked on in horror as Sirius stood up, taking the apple with him, proclaiming it squished and tossing it into a nearby rubbish bin. He melted as Sirius helped him up and collected his things, putting them back into the exact order they were in three minutes previous (Sirius knew Remus too well to do otherwise).
Yes, Remus concluded, Sirius was definitely his dark chocolate.