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It was June 1974, and the warm summer sun was shining through the tall windows of the Great Hall, putting a blanket of warm drowsiness on the poor students trying to concentrate on their final exams. Somewhere in those rows was young Remus J. Lupin. The seat he had picked out seemed like a good choice when their exam started, but as the hours passed, the sun had positioned itself in such a way that it hit his back and warmed his body to a degree slightly too comfortable for concentrating on exams. That, plus the fact that the exact usefulness of his exam was rather lost on him - when was he ever going to work with grindylows, really? - made for the perfect opportunity to take a minute for a well-deserved daydream. Remus took a look at the questions before him, decided he had ample time to finish this later, and rested his head on his hand. For some reason, his gaze immediately went to the black-haired boy two seats in front of him. He was less subtle in his desire to take a break from their exams. His head lay comfortably in his folded arms, and his disheveled pile of hair covered his exam paper.
For some reason, looking at Sirius made Remus to his first girlfriend. Or rather, that’s what their parents jokingly called them. He was 3, and he was good friends with Julie, a daughter of a friend of his parents. Back when everything was still normal. When he was still normal. They weren’t romantically interested - they were just good friends - but she was a girl, and thus she became his girlfriend. How romantically interested in another can a 3 year old truly be?
He didn’t remember much about their friendship, not really. Most of his memories weren’t memories. They were stories told by his parents, reinforced by old pictures in a stuffy album. There was one picture Remus was particularly fond of still. Julie and he were watching a puppet show, performed by his dad. His parents had given him a small puppet theatre, with a few sock puppets. He didn’t remember what the performance was about. He didn’t even really remember ever sitting there. But thinking back on the picture, on the knowledge that it had in fact happened one time, it felt nice.
It occurred to him that he hadn’t seen Julie in years. Remus though he recalled she moved away at some point. In any way, she found her own friend, and he found his own friends. It was an almost common occurrence in his life at this point. Every 5 years or so, for one reason or another, he’d leave behind his old friend group to start all over again. It wasn’t a conscious choice. It just happened. Remus looked at the bespectacled boy two rows left of him, absent-mindedly drumming on the table with his quill. He looked at the brown haired kid in front of him, frantically writing down everything he knew. Lastly, his eyes rested on Sirius, still softly snoring two seats in front of him. He wouldn’t let these friends slip away from him if he had anything to say about it. Never.
His first real girlfriend came at the end of primary school. This was the first time they themselves called themself boy and girlfriend, but in hindsight, this wasn’t going to be a marriage for the ages either. He liked her, absolutely, but not in that way. He liked her quirkiness, the way she didn’t care what people thought of her. He liked her passion, and drive. But he didn’t like like her. Perhaps these were just the qualities he had always looked for in a friend, and found in her. Perhaps he found these qualities in his new friends.
They had stopped talking when he left for Hogwarts. It was nothing on purpose, they just never quite found the time again. And now he had these new friends. And Sirius.
He didn’t like the feeling, not at first. All his life, he had been the logical kid. He could reason himself out of any situation, but not anymore. When he looked at Sirius, there was no logical reasoning, no clever deducing, no thinking at all.
The first two years at Hogwarts were fine. They were friends, good friends, and that was all. But somewhere this year, he changed. Or something changed, at least. He wanted to be around him, to feel his energy and hear his voice. He would find stupid excuses to get his attention. He would ask questions about homework of which he very well knew the answers, just to hear Sirius explain it to him again. He would get annoyed when James would inevitably interrupt them, and he would try his best to play it off. He was sure they’d noticed by now. They weren’t that stupid. And now the summer holidays were creeping up on them.
Normally, he would miss his friends, of course, but this year, Remus was actively resenting the idea of holidays. Of not seeing his friends for three months. Of not seeing his friend for three months. Maybe he could ask Sirius if they could hang out over the summer. He could sleep over at Sirius’s house. He knew the Blacks were well off, they’d have a spare room. At least, they must have. Sirius didn’t talk much about his home. Whenever their families were brought up, he tried to steer the conversation to something else, like Quidditch or which professor they would least hate to have to hook up with. Maybe Sirius could stay over at his place. It was something to think about later.
Right now he could do nothing but stare at those black locks, stare at the way the sunlight reflected off them and made them shimmer. He could only think of the way they covered his face when he came back from a late-night visit to the kitchens. The tangled mess they became after a good night’s sleep. The flowing manes after a playful match of quidditch.
Without Remus realising, Sirius had woken up, and was now looking back at him. Sirius gave him a playful look and a wink, which said as much as “Let’s finish this exam. We’ve got an entire day of sun and better quality time ahead of us.”
Remus smiled at the thought. Yes we do. An entire day. With this newfound drive, Remus picked up his quill and went back to his exam, determined to get it over with as soon as possible.