Chapter 3

 

“I’m not going to Hogsmeade with you tomorrow,” I tell James Friday night. I’d been arguing with myself, since I’d made the decision, as to how to go about telling my friends. I still had yet to come to a real conclusion, but I was out of time, so I’d forced myself to just spit it out when I’d found myself alone with my shaggy-haired friend. I figured it would be easier to talk to just him than wait until all three of my fellow Marauders were present.

 

“You can’t possibly have so much homework that you can’t go into Hogsmeade for a few measly hours, Moony. It’s the weekend,” James rolls his eyes, clearly exasperated.

 

Now, there’s a wonderful excuse right there. I could just say I’m staying at school to do work. It’s not like I’ve never done that before, and, while my friends might complain and tease, they’ll get over it, and it would mean I wouldn’t have to explain anything. There are only two problems with the brilliant scheme that had just fallen into my lap, courtesy of one James Potter: I don’t want to lie to my friends, and I’d be in serious trouble if they saw me in the village when I was supposed to be fussing over homework.

 

“I wasn’t planning on doing work, Prongs,” I admit.

 

“Then what do you need to stay at school for?” the hazel-eyed boy inquires.

 

“Did I say I was staying at school?”

 

James thinks for a moment. “No. So where are you going?”

 

“Hogsmeade,” I inform him. Where else?

 

“You’re going by yourself?”

 

“No.”

 

“You’re not going with Lily and her friends again, are you?” there is a slight note of jealousy in his voice now. He knows Lily and I are friends, and he knows I have no interest in her in any other way, for the obvious reason that she is a girl, and therefore not built to code for my tastes. He just can’t help it; he gets jealous because he wants to be the one spending time with her. I understand how he feels.

 

“No, I’m not going with Lily or any of the girls.”

 

“Then who are you going with?”

 

I consider telling him to mind his own business, but swiftly discard the idea. He’ll only ignore it and keep guessing until he drives me to distraction and forces me to come clean just to shut him up. Best to capitulate quickly and spare myself the agony. “Bryan Davenport.”

 

“Why?” he asks suspiciously.

 

“Why not?”

 

James glares.

 

I sigh. “He asked me to.”

 

He regards me for a long moment. “As a friend?” he asks finally. “Or…?”

 

“Or,” I respond, feeling my cheeks heat up slightly. How embarrassing.

 

“Oh.” He clears his throat. “I see.” He clears it again. “When did this happen?”

 

“Tuesday.”

 

“Tuesday?” his hazel eyes look like they’re about to pop out of his head. That would be unfortunate. “And you’re just telling me now?”

 

Do I really need to answer that?

 

“Please tell me that at least Peter doesn’t know yet,” he begs. “I don’t think I could bear the shame of being the last to know.”

 

“You’re not the last,” I assure him. “You’re the first. I haven’t told anyone yet.”

 

“You haven’t told Sirius?” one of his eyebrows shoots up in surprise.

 

I shake my head.

 

“But you tell Sirius everything.”

 

I don’t know how to respond to that, so I let the silence stretch. James is right, of course, I do tell him everything, with the glaring exception of my all-consuming infatuation. But I don’t know how to tell him this; even the thought of telling him strikes me as a very, very bad idea.

 

“So…” James breaks the uncomfortable quiet. “Are you and Davenport, er, going out, now?”

 

“No!” the half-cry leaves my lips a little too quickly, and a little too vehemently.

 

James’s eyebrow goes up again.

 

“No,” I say again, more quietly. “We’re not going out. We’re just…”

 

“Going out?” James offers.

 

“On a date. One date. It’s not serious.” No, not serious. If it were Sirius it would be more than one date… if it were up to me.

 

“What’s not me?” asks a voice from behind me.

 

Speak of the Devil. I turn, and feel my breath catch, as it always does these days. The Devil began as the first among angels…

 

“Remus’s date,” James informs the veritable Greek god standing in the doorway of our dorm room.

 

Shit.

 

“Remus’s what?” he’s speaking to James, but his tense scowl is turned on me.

 

Not good.

 

“Remus’s date,” James repeats. “Davenport asked him out, so they’re going into Hogsmeade together tomorrow.”

 

“I see,” he bites out. He’s furious, I can tell. The muscles in his jaw work as though he wants to say something, but is refusing to allow himself. His lips are tightly pressed together with the effort, but I want nothing more than to cross the room and… No. There are more important things to be dealt with. Like why he’s so angry or what that other emotion in his beautiful grey eyes is… I could drown in those eyes. I wouldn’t mind. No.

 

“Something wrong, Padfoot?” James asks, eyeing the long-haired boy skeptically.

 

“No,” he grits. His eyes stay on me for another moment, and I feel myself falling. Abruptly, he turns on his heel and stalks back out of the room. His footsteps are louder than usual as he descends the stairs.

 

James looks at me. “What was that about?” he demands.

 

I turn to him. “I was hoping you could tell me. He’s been acting strangely the past couple days.” Since Tuesday. “Do you think he and Bryan have, I don’t know, problems?”

 

“He’s never said anything to me about it if they have,” James replies.

 

We’re silent for a moment.

 

James looks thoughtful.

 

I’m trying not to think… of how amazing that incredible pair of grey eyes looks when they’re burning with anger. It works, but only because I start to wonder what those breathtaking eyes would look like if they were burning with passion…

 

“Remus?” James’s voice breaks into my fantasy.

 

“Huh?” Oh, very intelligent.

 

“I’m going to go find Sirius. Try to talk to him.”

 

“Oh. Ok. Do you want me to come?”

 

“No,” he says a little too hastily. “I mean, would you mind staying here? Pete should be back soon, and he’ll probably want to go straight to bed. Could you tell him I’ll wake him up in the morning? You know he won’t go to sleep otherwise.”

 

I stifle a sigh of annoyance, because what he said is true, but that’s not why he said it. “I’ll tell him,” I say.

 

“Thanks,” James grins, and heads for the door.

 

“You know, you could have just said you wanted to talk to Sirius on your own.” It slips out rather testily before I can stop it. Maybe it’s not a problem with Bryan after all, maybe it’s something in the water.

 

James turns back to me with another grin, this one fairly lopsided with guilt. “Sorry. I just – ”

 

“I know. I know.” I wave him on. “Go on, then. I’m going to bed anyway.”

 

James beams and scampers off. I can hear him leaping down the stairs before the door swings shut.

 

One of these days, that boy is going to hurt himself doing that, I think to myself in amusement.

 

I gather my things for a shower, and head for the bathroom, my thoughts unerringly slipping back to visions of grey eyes, long black hair, and tan skin. I can’t help it.

 

With all three of my roommates gone, I turn the shower on hot for the first time in days, and slip into the steam with a sigh.

 

TBC