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

22. I Love You

"Do you really have to be at this grubby market, Moony?" Whined Sirius, who was being dragged around an ever enthusiastic Remus around a little seaside second-hand market at eight in the morning on an ordinary Saturday.

"Can you say that any louder dear?" Replied Remus in a joyous tone, turning his head back to see a sulking Sirius.

"DO WE REALLY HAVE TO BE AT THIS GRUBBY MARKET, MOONY!" Shouted Sirius.

"That was a rhetorical question." Sighed Remus, and walking at a quicker pace to avoid the cluster of Muggles that were staring at the couple.

"Whatever." Shrugged Sirius. "This place bothers me."

"It bothers you?" Mocked Remus.

"Yes. All the Muggles are staring at me. They might want to assassinate me." Sirius pondered at that thought for a moment before saying. "They do want to assassinate me."

"They're only staring at you because you shouted like that." Said Remus calmly, it was clear who the mature one was in this relationship.

"No, I'm pretty sure they're demons, Remus."

"Oh come on," Remus pecked Sirius's forehead, much to the surprise of passer-bys. " I'll get you some ice cream."

"I love you." Said Sirius.

Lily and James were dead three months later, and Sirius was in prison.