Work Text:
December 16, 1978
Remus stumbled into his shared flat just past 1pm. Literally stumbled. Then fell flat on his back, the front door still ajar so everyone could see. Not over something sensible like shoes, but rather his own two feet.
He groaned loudly and hoped Sirius had taken his advice and gone out with James for the day.
“Oi! Moony! What’re you doing on the floor?”
“It’s actually rather comfortable, care to join me?”
Sirius flopped down on the floor, his head beside Remus’s.
“Well, you’re not wrong, mate. I promise, the sofa is much more comfortable. Want a hand up?”
No, is what he wanted to say. “Yes.” Is what he said.
Sirius helped him to the sofa, fluffing various pillows for him. He ran back and shut the door, putting all the appropriate charms in place.
“You still haven’t given back Lily’s quilt?”
“She hasn’t mentioned it! Don’t move, I’ll get your lunch.”
“I’m not hungry, just tea is fine.”
Sirius poked his head back into the living room with a disappointed glare.
“Moony. You’re a recovering werewolf. You need food to help you recover.”
“Fine, a piece of toast then.”
“I still don’t see why you’re so set on working. I have more than enough money to take care of us.”
Remus sighed. “That’s not the point Pads, I need to be able to support myself.”
“I hope you know I’m keeping you regardless of whether your employed or not.” Sirius returned with lunch in hand.
“Ta, Padfoot.”
“Oh, your mum mailed you a package.” Sirius gently set it down on the coffee table next to the tea. Normally, he would have thrown it. Give it two more days.
“I know what this is.” Remus tore open the package after finishing his toast. Inside were two pairs of knitting needles and a variety of yarn and patterns.
Sirius snorted.
“What, does your mum think we’re little old biddies then?”
“Sod off, Padfoot,” Remus laughed. “I’ll have you know it’s actually a very difficult and useful skill to master. I knit my grandmother a hat, scarf, and mittens set every year. I’m a little behind this year though.”
“I bet I can master it in one hour.”
Remus rolled his eyes. “We’ll start with something simple then.”
“Like a hat?”
“No, you twit, like a scarf.”
“I’m knitting Prongs a scarf. Red and yellow please.”
“All right, so, first thing we need to do is—”
“Wait, how is this a needle? Where do I thread it?”
“… Sirius. This is a knitting needle, not a sewing needle. You don’t thread it.”
*fifteen minutes later*
“Oh for the love of—Padfoot, how did you get your fingers tangled up in that?”
“Why are you asking me? I have absolutely no idea. I was doing exactly what you said, and then the bloody yarn just attacked me. I swear!”
*ten minutes post-tangling*
“You dropped a stitch, you’re gonna have to start back about twelve rows.”
“I did not!”
“I can tell you dropped a stitch because I can see a gaping hole you twit. Now, give it here.”
*twenty minutes after that*
Remus yawned loudly. The lingering ache from the full moon was still there, and that tea did nothing to help relieve it.
“Pads, I have to take a nap, or I’m gonna pass out.”
Sirius glanced up from his scarf—he was actually sort of getting the hand of it—tongue caught between clenched teeth in concentration.
“Okay, don’t worry, I’ll have this beauty finished by the time you wake up.”
“Want me to turn on the telly for you?”
“Ta mate.”
Remus paused on his way out, taking in the strange sight of Sirius seriously knitting away at his scarf, hair tied up in a messy bun and tongue still sticking out.
He went to sleep with that image. That image chased the nightmares away.
4:19 p.m.
Remus bolted upright in his bed, thoughts of ‘what time is it?’, ‘what day is it?’, and ‘why am I awake?’ flittering about in his head.
‘Ah yes, I took a nap… This is why I don’t take naps,’ he thought bitterly. He threw his jumper back on and padded out of his room, squinting at the daylight that assaulted his eyes. He certainly wasn’t in the best mood after a nap.
He ran a hand through his very messy bedhead.
“Morning, love!” Sirius chirped after a moment. He had retied his bun, although quite frankly it was just as messy as before, and was that a cooking show? … and where did that yarn come from?
Remus blinked the room into focus.
“… Did you actually finish your scarf?”
“Yeah, it was super easy to get into after you turned the telly on. I can actually knit without looking down at the needles now!”
“Umm—er—good for you.”
“I popped over to Sarah’s, I hope you don’t mind. She’s used to me mucking up muggle terms by now, so it wasn’t too bad. She helped me pick out all this yarn!”
“Fantastic.” He made a mental note to pop over to see Sarah himself later, just to make sure he didn’t have to modify anyone’s memories. “Is that my mitten pattern?”
“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind Moony, but I want to make all of us matching mittens for Christmas!”
“Just how many have you made?”
“Only three, and all the right hand. I can’t quite get the left hand right. Could you help me?”
Remus blinked a few more times, then smirked.
“More respect for the ‘little old biddies’ now, hmm?”
“Yes, yes, yes, now help me.”
“Just let me get my tea.”
“Hurry up!—Moony… Moooooooooonnnnnnnnnyyyyyyyyyy.”