A Literal Scrapbook

by Claire Whitmore

A scrapbook is messy, it's full of everything, an essence of what was. It has the smiles, the sadness and the moments when you laugh for no good reason and just want to be with someone loved. This is the Marauder's scrapbook, literally. It's a big bundle of warm fuzzy blankets, cheap wine and the comic section of the paper on a rainy day, just in the form of drabbles. R/S and J/L

7. Quidditch

"Sirius! When did you get so fit?" Remus blurted out while Sirius was getting changed into his Quidditch robes for the Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw game in their third year. Remus went bright red as if his well kept secret would suddenly be blown out into the public -and Sirius'- eye.

Sirius however, just smirked. "How long is a piece of string?" He said smugly, puffing out his chest.

Remus, still bright red, said. "Double the amount from the middle to the end."

"Smart arse." Teased Sirius.

"Tosser." Replied Remus, thankful that Sirius hadn't taken much notice to the fact that Sirius wasn't aware of Remus's very evident crush on him.

Because going to the changing rooms for no reason other than to be with Sirius while he got dressed was very subtle of Remus.