PG-13 for a bit of minor swearing, 500 words
Summary: Spring brings out strange things in people. Some babbling!Sirius, a dash of war angst followed by a helping of awkward 13 year old boys.
April 2nd, 1976. Very early morning.
‘Moony. Mooooony. MOONY!’
‘Nnnngh… What? Who’s died?’
‘Don’t be stupid – c’mon, wake up!’
‘Padfoot… eugh, what time is it?’
‘Err – I don’t know? But the sun’s up anyway, and it’s spring! Spring’s arrived!’
‘It won’t disappear in the next hour, you know. Can’t you just let me sleep? ‘M tired.’
‘No! Remus! Remus, wake up! Please, please, please, it’s all nice outside and I want to go out now, and – and – skip!’
‘Shall we make some daisy chains while we’re at it?’
‘Yeah, that’s the – oh. Oh bugger. Moony! I’ve turned into a girl.’
‘Don’t know about turned into. Well, now we’re solved your identity crisis, any chance you’ll let me go back to sleep?’
‘Remus, don’t wake me up like that!’
‘What? You’ve been doing all the waking…’
‘You must have been dreaming.’
‘Right, if you say so. Girl.’
April 2nd, 1980. Noon.
Sirius sat in the park, numbly clutching the scrap of parchment. The sun came out from behind the clouds, the trees were covered in blossom, and it all felt so wrong.
Someone had just died. How dared the elements behave as if everything was fine? Children ran around screaming, and Sirius had a sudden urge to go and tell them – tell them that life was brutal and short, and why were they wasting their time?
‘This isn’t right, Remus.’
‘No, Sirius, this is exactly right. Even Voldemort himself couldn’t stop the spring.’
April 2nd, 1973. Late evening.
The room came slowly into focus, and Remus jumped as he spotted Sirius. Then he remembered.
‘Oh, hi Sirius. Have I been out the whole day?’
‘Yeah – is that, um, normal?’ said Sirius, and Remus couldn’t help but notice him flinch.
‘It depends – some months are better than others,’ he answered, trying to sound matter-of-fact. ‘Have I missed much?’
‘Spring just kind of exploded today, it was great! The sun’s shining, there are flowers bloody everywhere, and it looks like it’s going be perfect conditions for Saturday’s match,’ burbled Sirius happily.
‘That’s good, that’s really good,’ started Remus, then pain shot along his ribs and he grimaced.
‘Oh!’ exclaimed Sirius, contrite. ‘Madam Pomfrey said not to over-excite you,’ he murmured, looking anxious.
‘No, don’t worry, it’s ok. Actually it’s – it’s really nice to have someone to talk to.’
‘Oh. Right. Listen, I - I have to go now – but I’ll come back, ok? I’ll get James and Peter to come with me, and we’ll steal you some food or something, yeah?’
Sirius was nearly out the door when he turned around again.
‘And, um. I brought you this.’
Sirius dropped a daffodil on Remus’ bed and ran out without looking back.
Too sleepy and baffled to think properly, Remus just drifted back into healing dreams, and so Madam Pomfrey had no answer to the mysterious appearance of a flower in her young charge’s hand when she came in to check on him.