Note: Thank you to sophinisba and thedoingofit for the beta, and to forest_rose for the Britpick.

Part 1

It was a rainy Sunday evening late in the spring of their sixth year. James and Peter were in the common room – James undoubtedly making himself a general nuisance to Lily Evans, and Peter under strict orders to keep her best friend Mary Macdonald well and truly distracted (a task that often involved endless games of Exploding Snap and, in times of extreme desperation, setting off a dungbomb or two) – leaving Remus and Sirius alone in the dormitory, sitting side-by-side on Remus' bed as they pored over the latest version of the map.

Remus absently scratched at his chin with his quill, deep in thought. "The proportions still look a bit off," he said at last. "The Hospital Wing isn't that large, and the lake isn't that far from the castle."

Sirius squinted at the parchment. "We'd better extend this outer wall," he said at last. He reached for his quill and accidentally tipped over the bottle of ink, which immediately seeped through the blanket and onto the sheet. "Sorry, Moony," he said, quickly righting the bottle and muttering a cleaning spell.

"I think that's enough for today," Remus said, rubbing his eyes tiredly. They had been working on the map for hours, with very little to show for their efforts aside from a few minor adjustments. "Let's go and see what the others are doing. Do you think James is still stalking Lily?"

Sirius snorted as he carefully moved their map-making supplies to the floor. "He hasn't come back bruised and hexed, so maybe he's making some progress today." He yawned and stretched his arms over his head before falling backwards against the pillows, pulling Remus with him. "We'd better give Prongs enough time to make a complete fool of himself. Besides, I'm too tired to move just yet." He shifted closer to Remus and shut his eyes, looking thoroughly content.

"You know," Remus said after a moment, "you've been very affectionate lately. Cuddly, even. I blame it on Padfoot."

Sirius drew back in surprise and fixed Remus with a steely gaze. "Cuddly?" he repeated in a tone of mock outrage. "Cuddly? Take it back, Moony. You'll ruin my reputation."

"What reputation?"

"That of the young, carefree, careless, rebel outcast, of course," Sirius said. Both eyes closed once more, and he wrapped his arms snugly around Remus' waist. "Padfoot even looks like a Grim. There's nothing cuddly about that, is there, Moony? Is there? Is there?" He jabbed Remus repeatedly in the side with insistent, tickling fingers.

"All right, all right," Remus laughed, trying to wriggle away from Sirius' secure grasp and failing. "You win. A Grim, honestly. Ridiculous mutt. I don't know why I put up with you." He looked at Sirius, smiling fondly, and imagined reaching over and touching the strands of black hair falling across Sirius' forehead, or running his fingertips across the dark fluttering eyelashes.

Remus had felt this way before in recent months – this inexplicable desire to be closer to Sirius, to show his affection in ways that he was not accustomed to – but never as strongly as he did at this moment. His hand actually moved, of its own volition, and hovered beside Sirius' face before Remus, with a sudden horror, wrenched it back with a jerk.

The movement caught Sirius' attention, and one grey eye cracked open, followed by another when he saw the troubled expression on Remus' face.

"Hey," Sirius said quietly. Sitting up, he reached out and pressed his thumb between Remus' brows, as if trying to smooth away the tiny line that had formed there. "What's wrong, Moony?"

Remus felt a blush creep rapidly across his face. There was a strange look in Sirius' eyes that Remus had never seen before – concern and confusion and something else Remus could not identify because he was suddenly feeling very confused himself. "Nothing," he said quickly, and ducked his head so that Sirius' hand fell away. "It's nothing, really."

"Right," Sirius replied, and by the tone of his voice Remus could tell that he was unconvinced.

Still not meeting Sirius' eyes, Remus turned away and swung his legs over the side of the bed. His face was still a bright shade of red. "I think I'll head down to the common room," he said as he stood. "Coming, Padfoot?"

"All right," Sirius said after a moment and followed Remus out of the room, giving him odd looks all the while.

They reached the common room just in time to see Lily, with a thunderous look on her face, leap up from her seat and grab a small book from James.

"You wouldn't know a sonnet if it bit off your nose, Potter," she snapped, brushing past him as she stalked to the staircase leading to the girls' dormitory. With an apologetic glance at Peter, with whom she had been engaged in a vigorous game of Exploding Snap, Mary stood and followed her friend out of the common room.

"Prongs, what have you been doing to the girl?" Sirius asked as he flopped onto the sofa where Lily had been sitting. Remus perched on the arm beside him.

"Nothing!" James exclaimed. "I just asked Evans what she was reading and she went completely mental. Tell them, Pete."

"Well," Peter said, looking uncomfortable as he gathered up the scorched and scattered cards. "You did snatch the book out of her hands-"

"Only to get her attention!"

"And then you read from it in that squeaky voice," Peter continued, undeterred. "I don't think she liked that very much."

"I only did it because it sounded so ridiculous," James said sullenly. "Complete rubbish."

"What was it?" Sirius asked.

"Some girly stuff about love and beauty and roses," James said with a shrug. "What's a sonnet, anyway?"

"A type of poem," Remus replied. "You know, like Shakespeare. 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day,' and all that rot."

He was met by three blank gazes. "Who?" Peter said at last.

Remus sighed. "Muggle Studies should be a requirement at Hogwarts," he said with some disapproval.

"Never mind that," James said impatiently. "Men, we have important work to do."

The others exchanged a glance. "We do?" Peter asked reluctantly.

"Yes," James replied shortly. He fell silent, clearly planning something. A slow, pleased smile spread across his face.

"Well, what is it?" Sirius demanded at last. "And stop smiling like that. You look like McGonagall when we have haggis for dinner. It's disturbing."

"I," declared James, "am going to write a sonnet for Evans. And Moony is going to help me with it."

"What?" Remus cried. "I don't know anything about sonnets!"

"You knew what they were," James pointed out.

"That doesn't make me an expert," Remus said. "I have only a passing acquaintance with sonnets. My mum has a book of poems, that's all."

"I didn't know you liked reading poetry, Moony," Sirius asked, seeming surprised and quite interested at the thought.

"Maybe a little," Remus admitted grudgingly, averting his eyes from Sirius' intense, curious gaze. "But not sonnets!"

"So you're the perfect person to help," James said coaxingly. "Come on, Moony. I can't write this sonnet alone."

"That's just it, Prongs," Remus said, sounding desperate. "You can't write a poem as a group. It's personal, like a letter, or a diary. You're supposed to talk about your thoughts and feelings."

James blanched. "Thoughts and feelings?" he echoed doubtfully. With a groan he slumped against the back of the sofa. Sirius patted his shoulder sympathetically.

"Yes," Remus said, nodding sagely. "It's a messy business all around."

***

The dormitory was uncharacteristically quiet as they readied themselves for bed. They had abandoned all further discussion of poetry in the common room, and Sirius thought Remus would have been glad of that, but whatever had been troubling Moony earlier was still bothering him now. Sirius tried to catch his eye from across the room, but Remus was examining the scuffed toes of his shoes with a frustratingly fervent intensity, and he never looked up.

Sirius fared no better when he tried to catch James' attention. Instead of sulking, as he usually did after one of Evans' rejections, James was deep in thought, and there was a determined set to his shoulders. Sirius hoped that it was the makings of an epic prank, and not another foolhardy attempt to win over Evans, that was causing James to look so serious. There were only so many rejections a person could take, after all.

Across the room Peter approached Remus. "So, how far did you and Sirius get today?"

"What?" Remus yelped, dropping his shoes on the floor with a startled thump. "What do you mean?"

"On the map," Peter clarified, giving him an odd look. "Did you make any progress?"

"Oh, right," Remus mumbled. He kicked his shoes under the bed, turning aside to do so, but not before Sirius noticed the faint blush staining his cheeks.

"We need to do some more work on the outer walls and the Hospital Wing," Sirius added, when it became clear that Remus had no intention of answering Peter's question. "But it's all pointless if we don't have the right tracking charm. Any ideas?"

The room fell silent once more. They had checked the library numerous times but had not found any charms advanced enough to keep track of the locations of every person in the castle. They had even considered visiting Diagon Alley in the summer and looking for a book there, but no one wanted to wait until then. Everyone wanted the map finished as soon as possible.

"We could take a look around Flitwick's office," James said at last.

Sirius grinned, already imagining their triumphant discovery of the perfect tracking spell.

"After I finish the sonnet for Evans," James added.

Sirius' face fell. "I thought you weren't going to bother," he said. "Thoughts and feelings, remember?"

"I have to prove to Evans that I can do it," James reasoned. "And maybe she'll like me better if she thinks I'm cultured."

He smiled dreamily as he buttoned his pyjamas. The other boys nearly gagged at the sight.

Remus rolled his eyes. "I want to think about poetry even less than I want to think about breaking into Flitwick's office," he said.

"Come on, Moony, where's your sense of fun and adventure?" Sirius prodded.

But Remus didn't even look at him. "Prefect, remember?" he grumbled as he climbed into bed and drew the curtains. "Good night," he said, almost as an afterthought.

The other three shared a glance. "What's with Moony tonight?" Peter asked after a moment.

Sirius looked bleakly at the tightly drawn curtains of Remus' bed. "No idea, Wormtail," he said unhappily. "No idea."

To be continued....