#hey so))

Word Count: 539 - @wolfstarmicrofic cw: horniness?

The door to the Gryffindor Common Room flung open, shortly followed by the distinctive sound of loud, unabashed whinging.

By the fireplace, unaquainted first years looked up in concern, not yet familiarised with this particular type of intrusion. The gaggle of girls who worshipped the ground this man walked on were, predictably, giggling at his arrival. And, of course, the few poor souls who had chosen to study here for a change sighed at their misfortune.

Sirius Black had arrived. Remus turned his page.

"Ugh, Moony!" Remus budged over, feeling the plush cushions beside him sink with the weight of his friend. He kept reading his book, wondering how far he could get before Sirius inevitably demanded his attention.

Not very far. Obviously.

Sirius' chest heaved as he caught his breath, his head flung back against the sofa, raven tresses spilling free from his bun. "Ask me what's wrong." His voice was breathy and light, and Remus put his feelings aside.

"What's wrong?" The deadpan response earned Remus a scoff from Sirius. His book was, quite promptly, stolen right from his hands and disposed of on a side table.

"Why, thank you for asking! I'm so very glad you care about my wellbeing, Remus! Right friend you are!" Sirius huffed, swatting Remus away when he tried to retrieve his book. "What's wrong is that Prongs is lugging me about on his runs."

Remus stopped at that. "You? You went on a run?!" A second later, he added, "with James?!" What he really fancied asking was if Sirius had gone mental, and was actively trying to destroy Remus.

He clearly had been running. Remus could see that now. The sharp edges of Sirius' face glistened with a soft sheen of sweat, and his baby hairs stuck to his forehead in random, little curls. He wanted so badly to touch them, push them back into place.

Unaware, Sirius grumbled. "Unfortunately. Apparently 'before one can fly, one must first run'. Prongs is an insufferable captain, I'm telling you. Be grateful you don't play quidditch, Moons."

Remus was. He really, really was, because Sirius had pulled up the hem of his t-shirt to wipe his face and, Merlin, he couldn't share a locker room with that man. He'd barely managed sharing a bedroom for the past seven odd years, but at the very least he expected the exposed skin there.

This was obscene. Downright indecent. It should have been criminal for Sirius Black to have his chest out in the common room. The dim light shone off him, helpfully pointing out every hard line and every soft curve, spotlighting each delicate mole. Remus' eyes wandered, lingering on the places he so wished to brush his lips against and trailing down towar-

"Remus?" Sirius' voice pulled his eyes back up, unnaturally quiet and unsettling in its intimacy. Had he…? Fuck, Sirius had caught him staring.

Remus sat, eyes wide and gnawing at his lips, waiting for the rejection to come. The anger. The betrayal. The disgust. It never did.

Eventually, after a silence filled only by hushed first years and scribbling quills, Remus choked out, "…yes?"

maybe this was why nobody bat an eye when the shadows of hogwarts becane ever so darker. or how the ghosts that roamed the halls began to disappear immediately once an odd chill crept from the great hall.

“it’s october!” everyone would say.

but not tom. he knew better.

and he knew that the steadily growing disappearances of several of his knights were not mere coincidence either.

so when he was face to face with sunken, molten eyes that gleamed of toxic waste, a gaping maw, dripping with crimson and flesh, and long dark nails that tore further into the ribcage of his most trusted minion, he was not truly surprised.