PG, 600 words
Summary: Capers with a vest, a mysterious parcel and a trapped man.
April 3rd, 1976. Morning.
Remus looked out of the window. Cloudless skies for the moment, but his weather sense that he got from Lord knows where told him it was going to take a turn. Vest underneath the shirt, then.
Sirius bounded through the curtains, which was really going to have to stop, and pounced on him.
‘Moony! What on earth are you wearing a vest for? It’s spring! Time to throw off the shackles and muffles of winter and rejoice in the feel of fresh air against your skin!’
Only Sirius, Remus decided, could give a vest revolutionary potential.
‘Oh no, layers are the way to go my friend – it’s going to be nippy later.’
‘I’d listen to him, Padfoot,’ called Peter from across the room. ‘Moony knows his stuff – not been wrong yet!’
‘You,’ muttered Sirius in Remus’ ear, ‘are nothing more than a fusser – you could be your own grandmother!’
‘Absolutely, with a Time Turner and a sex change… Padfoot, did you take extra Babbling Potion this morning or something? And you know I’m right about the weather.’
‘Yes, I do. What is that, a werewolf thing?’ Sirius gasped, ‘That’s it! All weather people are werewolves in disguise! Well that explains a lot, I’ve always said that bloke off the radio sounds a bit weird! Aha – I’ve cracked the mystery. I should sell it to the Prophet.’
‘Hmm, or The Quibbler, I think. Sirius, what are you actually talking about?’
‘I think it was something about how we need to get you out of that vest…’
Remus clamped a hand over Sirius’ mouth, trying not to laugh at a mix of hot breath and teeth.
‘Hush, you fiend!’
Sirius just winked and disappeared, mouthing ‘later!’ over his shoulder.’
April 3rd, 1994. Afternoon.
Professor Lupin walked into his office, rubbing his hands together and longing for tea after a brisk walk to and from Hagrid’s hut. He stopped at the sight of a package on the table and an owl taking off through the open window.
Upon opening, it proved to be a jumper. Slightly too big around his bony frame, but there was a time it would have fitted him perfectly. He turned it over and over, but there was no tag, no label, no note.
Perhaps he ought to have mentioned something to Minerva – but he was the Defence professor, after all – one would hope he’d be able to spot any potential jinxes. Anyway, there was no reason to assume his mysterious benefactor had any malicious intent – Sirius Black was focusing all of his energies on Harry, no reason for him to hunt down a long forgotten school mate, was there?
April 3rd, 1996. Twilight.
Sirius had sat out immobile in the garden all day. Remus watched him out of the window, noting the untouched plate of food by his side and the paleness of his skin.
As dusk finally diminished, he made his move, striding outside and hoping the momentum will impart words.
‘You should come in, Sirius – you’ll catch cold,’ he said gently.
There was no response. Remus closed his eyes for a moment, and then moved closer.
‘Well, if you’re going to stay here, best wear this,’ he replied to nothing, dropping a jumper in Sirius’ lap, where it was mechanically grabbed.
Remus was half way back to the house when Sirius spoke.
‘I can see the stars from here.’
Remus crossed back and settled himself next to Sirius. Neither moved again till morning.