A/N: Fixed the formatting for the last chapter as well as a couple snags in the plot that would have turned to holes later.
Also: Yes, I'm pretty slow to update. I'm a student in a really rigorous program, along with working and other obligations. I apologized over it pretty constantly in my last story; for now I'll just say, "I hope you enjoy the story enough to stick with it."
The "wet dog" premise for the story was inspired by a headcanon I stumbled across on Tumblr months ago. If anyone can tell me the author, I'll be sure to credit them.
Sirius couldn't concentrate. He was anxious, something that he-as the heir of the Woeful and Most Ancient House of Prats-made a point never to be.
Fifth years had had their final OWL the day before, but that wasn't what was bothering him.
Remus was angry with him. He wouldn't tell Sirius why ("Sirius, I'm not angry with you," he'd insisted) but he had barely spoken to the dark-haired boy all week and it was getting to Sirius.
James was speaking animatedly to him over a lunch of chicken sandwiches and soup, and while Sirius knew Quidditch was the topic, he wasn't keeping up. He wasn't as avid a fan as James of the sport, but he could certainly hold his own in a debate over the Cannons versus the Harpies. Today, he tuned James out and pushed his spoon around in his soup.
"Sirius. Sirius, hey, what the hell have you got up the arse today?" snapped James.
"Sorry," he said, blinking. "Only tired."
To his right, Mary Macdonald tugged on his elbow. "Sirius," she said, waiting until he looked over at her, "We've just got this weekend before we board the train home, and I doubt your parents will let you come see me all summer." As Mary was a Muggleborn, Sirius had a strong suspicion she was right, although he could've got around that if he'd wanted to.
The problem was, he was fairly certain he didn't want to.
Mary was pretty, and she got good marks. He supposed she was a good conversationalist, though since they'd started dating they hadn't talked much. He'd taken her to Hogsmeade the previous weekend, but kept becoming distracted wondering what the other Marauders were up to; the week had been full of little besides OWLs, and free time had been spent decompressing with his mates. Who could blame him for being too busy for a girl he had passing interest in? He'd only asked her on the date because she had hinted heavily all year.
When Sirius didn't respond, Mary sighed. "Why don't we find somewhere private to talk?" she suggested. "Let's go out to the lake."
"Of course," he said. "Sorry."
They walked silently, then found a spot away from the other students enjoying the sunshine. Mary sat across from Sirius, a bit too closely for his liking, and stared at him until he spoke. "What is it?"
She huffed. "What is it?" she asked. "What is it? Well, my boyfriend has made me the envy of the school, but they haven't much to envy as he won't talk to me. You won't even touch me."
"I have touched you," he said uncomfortably. Hadn't he?
"You haven't," she corrected. "I don't understand why, either. You're touchy-feely with your mates, shoving into each other and even touching each other's arms when you're trying to make a point, but you won't so much as hold my hand."
"I-" She was right, he knew. "I'm sorry," he said lamely, not having an excuse for it.
"If you're not interested, I can take a brush-off well enough," she said, matter-of-factly. "You'd only to say so in the first place."
"It's not that," he insisted. "I've just been... distracted. It's been-"
"Are you attracted to me?" she interrupted.
"What? Of course you're attractive," he said, baffled. She was one of Gryffindor's beauties, Lily Evans being the other. Surely she knew that?
"That's not what I asked," she corrected. "I asked, are you attracted to me?" It didn't sound like a question, but something she knew the answer to.
"I..." Sirius thought. She was a beauty, as he'd more or less said. But was he attracted? What did that mean, exactly?
Before he could figure out the answer, he felt another pair of lips on his. They were full, warm, and soft. After a couple of moments, he remembered to move his lips in response to hers.
"Just as I thought," she said, pulling away with a shake of her head. "You should never have asked me to Hogsmeade, Sirius."
"You don't look... upset," he decided. She looked almost triumphant, as though she'd solved a puzzle. And it was true; he'd felt nothing.
"M'not," she answered, brightening. "I thought I'd done something wrong, or that you only wanted me for my body, but this confirms my theory."
"Theory?"
"Of course," she said patiently, teacher to student. "There's a certain way I've wanted you to look at me, and for months I've seen that look in your eyes... directed toward someone else. I thought I was seeing things, and if I just put myself in your path you'd eventually look at me that way. Like I was the only person who mattered, like you were getting the tingles every time you thought of me. But I was right in the first place, and you've only got eyes for one person. If that's not going to be me, I can live with it." She smiled at him, just a little sadly.
For his part, Sirius was positively baffled. What look? Who? He thought of every girl he knew, and felt no sense of "the tingles," as Mary called it. He couldn't think of a single bird he might be interested in.
"Hello, Sirius? Still there?" she said, waving a hand in front of his face.
"Yeah, sorry," he said.
"That seems to be the only word you know today," she teased good-naturedly.
"Sorry," he repeated, running a hand through his hair in a habit he'd picked up from James. "Just... I'm afraid if I'm looking at anyone that way, it's just the way my face falls. There aren't any girls I fancy."
She grinned. "I don't believe I ever mentioned a girl. Come on, Sirius. You look at him like he holds the key to all the magic in the world and you still want to give him more of it."
He blinked once. Twice. "He? I don't fancy blokes. Sorry, Mary, but you're up the wrong tree here."
"Sirius," she said, with something like pity, "You're so in love with Remus, and you haven't even realized it."
"What?"
Gobsmacked, Sirius only shook his head. He wasn't in love with Remus.
Couldn't be in love with Remus.
In love, with Remus?
Remus.
Remus with the sweet innocence despite all he'd been through. Remus, who was always so surprised at being treated with the bare minimum of the kindness he deserved. Remus, who didn't think nearly enough of himself. Remus with the golden eyes and scars that told stories.
"God fucking damn it, Mary, I think you might be right."
The two returned to the castle, Sirius open-mouthed and Mary smiling triumphantly. Lunch had finished, and they found the rest of the Marauders lounging on their customary sofas in the Common Room.
"Oy," said James, "did the two of you finally work out whatever's had Sirius in a funk?"
"Yes," said Mary brightly. "We broke up."
Remus's eyebrows shot up. "Are you both all right?"
"Absolutely," she said at the same time Sirius muttered, "I'm not sure."
"Girl finally broken the heart of the heartthrob?" teased James.
"It wasn't like that," answered Mary. "It just wasn't what either of us wanted. Now I'll leave you to it. See you later, Sirius. Have fun." She waggled her eyebrows teasingly at him and flounced toward her dormitory.
"What was that about?" James asked.
"You know, mate," said Sirius, "I'm really not sure."
Remus was watching him curiously-they all were, really, but it was Remus whose gaze he caught. Remus whose head was cocked just slightly, whose eyebrows were furrowed gently, whose amber eyes Sirius could not look away from.
"Fancy a round of Exploding Snap?" Sirius asked, trying to shake the tension from the room.
"I'm game," said James as Peter nodded.
"Sure," said Remus, "but you're sitting across from me. You smell like wet dog."
Just a few days later, the boys boarded the train. James and Peter sat together as Sirius sprawled out onto a bench by himself, thinking of Remus.
Since Friday, Sirius had been unable to get his mind off the boy. The more he thought of it, the more he realized that Mary had been absolutely right. If only Remus fancied blokes, thought the dark-haired boy dejectedly.
"What're you doing over the summer, Sirius?" asked Peter.
Trying to figure out how to get a straight boy to want me, Sirius didn't say. What he did say was, "Not sure yet. Since James will be traipsing through Europe, mooning over a certain redhead instead of experiencing the beautiful women with sexy French accents-"
"Shove it, Padfoot," said James good-naturedly, using a nickname they'd adopted after their first full moon as Animagi.
"Right, well as I was saying, since James is going on holiday I'll probably have to stay with my parents this summer... bloody miserable. At least we live in London so I can spend my days in Diagon Alley."
"Sorry for you, mate," said Peter. "I know you don't fancy staying with your parents. I'd have you at mine, but my mother..."
Mrs. Pettigrew was staunchly opposed to guests. At any time, for any reason. No one was quite sure why.
"It's no problem," said Sirius. "I'll torture my brother a bit, do things to make Mum call me a filthy blood traitor-that's always fun-and get out as much as I can."
Sirius looked up sharply as the compartment door slid open. "Sorry, all," said Remus. "Prefect duties took longer than expected. Also, Sirius, I may have an alternative to your staying at Grimmauld Place." When Sirius raised his eyebrows, Remus smiled. "Werewolf hearing, remember? Anwyay, move your feet."
Sirius did so, then looked at his friend impatiently. "So, alternative?"
"I just got the owl from my parents this morning," he said brightly. "You're welcome to stay with us. It's... small, nothing like what you're used to, and of course since Mum's a Muggle things are pretty different than-"
"Sounds brilliant," said Sirius. "And there's the added bonus that my mother will faint when she hears I'm staying with you, since she knows you're a half-blood."
And, Sirius thought privately, this will give us more time alone together.
Later, as the train rolled to a stop, Sirius thought this might just be his best summer yet.