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Summary
Remus and Sirius always had a stranger and more intimate relationship than any of the others.
When they first met at the age of 11, they had very different reactions to each other. Sirius, who was always excited to meet new people, and was hardly nervous let alone embarrassed by anything. Heck, even that one time when he was 6 and Narcissa had taken bright red lipstick and smeared it all over his face, completely missing his lips. He had just brushed it off and strutted to his brothers room in favour of smearing the red product all over Regulus as well.
So you see, Sirius did not get nervous easily.
But seeing that mousy haired boy, with freckles all over his face, and a long scar flowing from the back of his neck all the way to just under his right eye, passing over his lips and drawing all eyes to him, or maybe just Sirius'. The young boy was talking quickly and quietly in a different language to a woman next to him, with matching brown hair and freckles, unmistakably his mother. Who seemed so short next to the beanpole she had as a son. He couldn't take his eyes off the tall boy, whose eyes were surrounded by long full lashes, with his oversized jumper and battered loafers.
Shit, was he staring?