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

43. Nightmares

Sometimes, on the bad nights, the few days before the full moon, Remus would wake Sirius up in the week hours of the morning.

"Sirius, Sirius." Whispered Remus into his boyfriends ear, nudging him with his hand.

"Yeah?" Replied Sirius groggily, his eyes barely opened.

"I had another nightmare."

This was a lie, well, most of the time it was.

"And you want to sleep in my bed?" Deducted Sirius, this had happened before.

"Please."

"Get in then, Moony." Smiled Sirius, lifting up the covers as Remus wriggled his way in.

Most of the time, Remus didn't even have nightmares, you had to be asleep to have nightmares. Remus just found it difficult to sleep without Sirius by his side, even just knowing that he was near made Remus feel safe and considerably warmer. Remus wanted to feel their legs intertwine, to nuzzle each other's faces into the others chest and neck, to feel Sirius's strong and Quidditch calloused hand wrap around his.

The truth is that Sirius liked it just as much as Remus did.