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Summary
He turned to Remus. “This is my mate Sirius. He’s a dickhead.” Sirius punched him on the shoulder. “Sirius, this is Remus. He’s new.”
Sirius finally looked at him. He appeared regal, out of place inside of the country pub. Rich, black hair curled around his ears and brushed his defined chin. He scanned his face for a moment—his eyes were grey and distant. Remus nodded at him, acutely aware that neither of them had said anything yet. A muscle in Sirius’ jaw twitched. He hummed noncommittally. “I’m gonna go pass out upstairs,” he said to James and James alone. “Tell the missus I’ll be over for dinner tonight.” With that, Sirius left through the backroom door.
Well, fuck you too, Remus thought.
Or, where Remus gets on the wrong train, and Sirius doesn't trust strangers.