Chapter Text
—Diagon Alley, Riverside village—
It was a sunny day out, a perfect day for people to take a swim, play outside, go on a picnic, make some plans, maybe go a little extra mile and go fishing. It was a day of great joy and bountiful harvest, all school and work temporarily postponed under a holiday.
People decided to gain profit, opening booths and creating products and selling them to people who would listen.
But under the seabed, hidden under crystal clear water, lingering upon the caves and corals unseen, where the people of the sea rest, only saw this as an invitation to a feast.
Many people swimming, many people resting at the riverside, new prey resting at the beach houses next to the waters, one's kayaking in a boat, oh my, what a delightful selection to choose from!
While the merpeople waited below the surface, hungry eyes roving over the flock of humans tightly-knit together. Plastic toys dropped onto the sand sometimes, but no human seemed to dare go further from the shore.
Nobody, until one man went fishing, boat under his arm and a confident stride to the ocean. He winked at people that weren't even looking at him, and manhandled his boat to the surface, hopping on and paddling quickly, whisking past the white and red bobbles far away from shore.
After taking his father's word that bigger fish hide in farther places of the riverside, he drifted out of eye's reach, and when he swung his fishing rod with a worm on the hook, he felt a weight pull it instantly.
Ecstatic to bring home food, he reeled it in, really hard; his fishing rod was bending a concerning amount now, and he only smiled a senile grin to himself because, holy shit, this fish is bound to feed for weeks.
He hears a distinct sound of song, echoing, and entrancing in a way that beats out all catchy tunes he had heard all his life. His grip weakens and his mind feels numb after processing the sound, but he only kept reeling in the weight that was pulling him in the shore.
He was so carried away with reeling in, and his mind was so numb and involuntarily succumbed to that delightful sound, that he hadn't realized that his feet had been fully submerged in water, then the cold river slowly made it to his shins, to his knees, above his knee, but he stayed unbothered.
He looked down to reach for a new worm, looking down, then his eyes locked with glowing yellow ones with turqoise hair covering most of their face. Submerged in water; with unnatural split pupils, clawed, scaled hands clamped around his ankles, and before he had enough time to process, he violently got pulled in to the waters, his scream only resurfacing as bubbles as water fills his lungs, slowly putting him out his conscience as he gets dragged down the river.
His wrecked wood boat and broken fishing rod sank to the bottom of the rocky sand, hitting rocks and plants before eventually landing to the grainy sand with an unheard thud.
As the day prgressed, teenagers dared others to go past the shore, more fishermen swam past the bobbles in search of food, and overall, more and more people went to the lone parts of the river, ignoring the red and white bobbles wishing to prevent further exploration, and more and more visitors, children, and foreigners have gone missing, without a trace.
It wasn't long before people and individuals have reported to the employees about the dissapearances of their family, and they patiently lead the concerned people to the manager's office.
xxx
The celebration stretched out until nighttime, 6:00, rave lights of neon green, pink, and blue dancing across the sand and penetrating the peaceful darkness of the riverside. Alcoholic drinks or food served at the club spill into the waters, sinking down the corals and boulders at the bottom.
Even though the merpeople below had plentiful mealtimes already, even so much leftovers and extras, they didn't deny hunting down lone people resting at shore. They mercilessly sung their throats out, seduced people to the bottom of the sea, and went bold, sneaking up and biting people until the body lays pliant.
Others served the prey on it's own, whilst some kept its belongings and jewelry for themselves or for auctions. But others, prefer to stay under the radar, and mask off the tradition of cannibalism. It was taboo and mediocre to deny human flesh, but the chewy, bitter aftertaste, the lack of warmth, and the dead eyes just make others feel uncomfortable and disdianed to eat meat.
Including Sirius Orion Black, heir of the richest, most popular name of the aquatic circle. Top ten on the food chain, his family is well-known for their lavish black pearls, long, shiny, wavy raven hair that stand out the flurry of colorful locks, and especially, their dark, translucent tail and gills, with astronomical, intricate patterns of various constellations and planetary patterns in gold blood; what deems them special and so, so feared.
They use their name cards to get anything they want, and they use their special place in the aquatic circle to do anything they want and get away with it; because if you bail on a Black, you'll end up with your head on a plate, for sure.
xxx
But Sirius, you see, is very sensible for his needs. He doesn't want to eat human meat, he doesn't desire to indulge in cold blood. He craves for something he couldn't have; Warmth and love of a human.
He doesn't want to slowly kill what he desires; but what truly doesn't sit right, is that everybody else around him treat flesh as something to auction, something that isn't worthy of a second thought, all blinded by the helpless mantra that 'they're just helping fend off overpopulation'.
I mean, what would they feel if humans ate sirens instead of the other way around? We'd feel helpless, right? We'd want then to show pity and concern, right? We don't want to be hunted, so why do we hunt?
'Oh, humans have already hunted us merpeople', Sirius remembers. Remembers how humans caged pretty sirens and traps them in glass aquariums for their contentment, and how humans eat the ugliest of the bunch. They forced mermaid and siren breedings, and killed the tritons to hang ther heads in their office for a 'display of fear and power', as they say.
Sirius feels a stab of anger towards the humanoids above, but alas, love outpowers his fury towards others. Well, overthinking for yourself and others can't be controlled. You hate and love everyone for no reason.
No need to be wasting such time daydreaming about this. He has a reputation to uphold! Though, does he want to uphold it? Had he needn't not wished to edit of this filthy, taboo blooline? Hadn't he desired to rebel against his family, to protest this fucked-over tradition of inbreeding and coercion?
Ugh. Now he'd done it.
"Yeserday, folks, we have taken a picture of a distinct mermaid tail in the Riverside of Diagon Alley's most popular resort! We are joined here, by our dear Andromeda, who owns the resort, about her thoughts!"
The news reported doesn't seem to distinguish being shy and being uncomfortable as he shoves the mic to the pretty lady across him.
"Erm, as we can see, that is no mermaid tail... Myths go around, yannow? That may be a trick of the eye, because it's under a moonlit scene, maybe it's a stray leaf, or a school of fish, or a dolphin!"
The girl, Andromeda, seems to take the interview really well. The rest of the news were cut off by angry rambling of a curly, dirty blonde teenager with a sweater and scars all over. He clutches his photo camera in one hand and throws his free one up in frustration.
"No the fuck it wasn't! That was a good shot! Tranluscent tails, shining scales, she just ran away when she saw the camera! Fucking shit, I would've been rich..."
A blonde, pudgy boy angrily flipped through his book about magical creatures. "That's what I was saying! All signs point to siren! No fish looks so ding-dang magical! Flobberwaffles!"
"Exactly!" Said the messy haired, tanned boy with glasses. "Our newspapers would blow up with that picture! Goodness, WE would get rich! What's the point in denying it?"
The photographer, researcher, and newsboy all grumble at the telly, not even comprehending what the rest said. They all went to bed early, missing their favourite television program in the root of frustration.
xxx
That was what happend last night, but Remus wakes up to a start. He smells bread, eggs and bacon, and something oddly like burnt plastic. He hadn't got up so fast; you would never know, if your friends are the equivalent of the word mischeif and bigotry, given consciousness.
He locates the smell to be in the kitchen, and he spots his friends, his eyes landing first on a messy haired, tanned boy with round glasses, James, doused in water, shirt clinging to his torso, the recently installed ceiling sprinkler still spraying on him while the fire alarm beeps uncontrollably.
James, looking like a deer in headlights, turns his head slowly to Remus', flashing a nervous grin. Below his feet was a growing puddle of water, and in one hand was a single, floral, pink mitten. Next to his left was a fire extinguisher and a cracked egg.
The portraits were uneven and some were face down in the floor, then Remus' eyes land on his second friend, a blonde, pudgy boy, Peter, standing on the kitchen counter, and on his hands was a metal tray, with a smoking obsidian obelisk perched above it.
Peter yelped and dropped it because he picked up the still-sizzling tray with no mitts, causing him to slip on the flour-covered merble counter and get sprayed with water along with James, looking at Remus oddly like a rat caught with cheese.
Remus, in all his sleep deprived, tired glory, took one look, grabbed a broom, and whacked the two's heads.
"What have I told you about making breakfast without heat guards?" Remus scolded, voice firm and sharp but not exactly furious and done.
"'If you're still asleep and us two are hungry to the bone, microwave the leftovers and cook some rice'," Peter replicated word for word, rubbing the crown of his head.
Remus nodded, but still held high ground.
"If you remembered, then why is the stove open?" Remus scolded, tapping the stove top with the broomstick.
James bowed his head. "We wanted to try to cook something for you," James muttered, head bowed. "But, I guess you shouldn't listen to a cooking tutorial on the radio once and try to cook it, " James counted in his brain mentally, exaggerating his movements by making an obvious display of thinking.
"—Thrice. We attempted it thrice." Peter accompanied.
This only made Remus' face fall crestfallen. And the two literally looked away to avoid pity and fear to inflict in their brain. It was scary seeing Remus so mad yet so understanding. It was like tarot cards; every word you say is a lose-lose.
"What else?" Remus finally said, shifting his weight on the other foot, and gripping on the broom.
"... We also microwaved leftovers..." James replied sheepishly, avoiding eye contact.
"Oh yeah we did!" Peter exclaimed, holding up the obsidian obelisk up to Remus' face.
Remus paused, the a flicker of humor cracks, and his lips twitch upward, until he huffs out a laugh, then he started giggling, then laughing, throwing his head back, until he just unraveled into a fit of giggles.
"Th-that's... That's yesterday's spaghetti..." He chokes out in between cackles, pointing a weak, shaking finger to the black sludge. He held his side as his shoulders shook with held back laughter.
When Remus laughs, the other two laugh. So when Remus melted into a fit of laughter, James huffed a chuckle, then he started giggling, and how he was holding the counter to steady himself and wheezing. Peter dropped the "spaghetti" on the flood, and it crumbled into black powdered chunks, and the three just kept giggling in utter glee for no discernable reason.
xxx
After these short episodes of guffawing and undignified laughter, they settled down, in the flour-ridden, egg littered kitchen. Then, after a beat of silence and tranquility, Remus got back to his senses, got up, took the broom, and whacked the broomstick on the heads of the two boys in front of him.
"Clean the kitchen. We're fishing today's lunch." Remus said with finality. He couldn't change his mind when he settled on an issue.
"But what's for breakfast?" Peter asked, running soft fingers through the sore top of his head.
Remus shrugged. "We'll be buying takeout. Clean the kitchen, clean yourselves, and we'll walk to the store nearby. S'that alright with you lot?" He scheduled, eyes on the ceiling as he thought, tapping a finger on his chin. He looked straight at the other's eyes shortly after.
James nodded fervently; he picked up the mop and cleaned the counter without being asked to, because downtown, on the shake shack, was an orange-haired, freckled lady that James fell in love with the first time he laid eyes on her. James "I need to go to the food court to hand out today's Daily Prophet and not for that cute redhead in the shake shack" Potter and Peter "I need books to function but books are made from trees and trees bear fruit so you debt me with food and books at the same time" Pettigrew.
Remus rolled his eyes, as Peter followed shortly after, clueless to the sudden shift of gears. He picked up a rag and cleaned alongside James, who was rapidly going on about this "Evans" girl.
Remus huffed out a laugh, and he walked out, rubbing his tired eyes. He made it out the kitchenette, through the hallway, and in the door with a wooden, chipped paint doorframe. He yawned as he went back to his bed, collapsing on the soft mattress and letting out a soft groan at the relief that flooded through him when he laid down. He really, truly missed his bed.
After running away again from a boring mealtime with family, Sirius sits on a boulder, observing his features, and scrutinizing his body. His tail was transluscent and raven just like his family's, just like the rest of his bloodline, and his veins glowing gold blood under the obsidian scales as he, once again, traced soft fingers through the gold lines, and excessive lines;
The scars he got from punishments, the glittering gold in neat and jagged lines ranging in his tail, ruined the planetary patterns that was so prided by his family. The rows of sliced skin was in various stages of healing, the oldest ones already bronzing at the edges.
He was in a bad mood, so he was flicking away fish and eating kelp with no dignity whatsoever. He desperately wanted to rid of the taste of human blood on his tongue, and five minutes earlier, he had already threw up the flesh on the sand, so all he was doing was coping and masking his cannibalism.
He looked up at the surface of the sea, measuring the sun's position to determine what the time was. It was the only teachings of the Black family bloodline that he found interest in, because only a few handfuls of sirens and mermaids know what time it was from the sun's alignment to the rippling river.
When the rays of the golden light hit his eyes, he relished in the soft heat of the moment as he determined the time to be atleast 6:00 to 7:30, before swimming up to a barren part of the river, at the side that was bordered away from human interaction.
He resurfaced from the clear waters, sitting his wet body down on the shaded sand, breathing in air to accommodate water out his lungs. He looked down at his tail, which was slowly fading from the tail up, which gave him enough time to urgently look for a cover for his hips down.
He wrapped a discarded cloth around his waist, as he watches the last of his evidence of aquatic anatomy fade from his feet up to his waist. Nothing changed drastically; He just took the form of a human, though his feet had a fading black ombre that ends above his knee, and his hands have an obsidian fade that ends at his intermediate phalanx.
It wasn't long until he heard rustling from the bushes behind, and out resurfaced a slightly ruffled looking Andromeda, face pale and hands splattered with dried blood.
"And what happend to you? Ran out of room?" Sirius asked, his eyes following his cousin's movements.
"Fuck yeah. Go ask my mum an' dad to tone down hunts on holidays. I kill off thrice the amount of people you hunt." Andromeda responded queasily, placing a hand on her stomach. She grit her teeth, and standing out above the rest, were her front teeth; long, sharp, and pointy, recently stained crimson with blood.
Sirius nodded, smiling cheekily. "Yannow I can't, Andy," He said, laying down, resting his hands behind his head. His hair was damp, and his body started to dry up, but he was immersed and excited to talk to his cousin again. "I have a feeling my dear parents fucking hate me. Besides, just strangle them, Andy. S'not that hard,"
Andromeda shifted, then she huffed out a laugh. "Fuckin' git. You don't have faith in your older, most beautiful, sexy, compassionate and perfect cousin?" She went on, her tired eyes glimmering with mischeif. It honestly awed Sirius, how she manages to juggle herself, others, and the bloodthirsty monster instilled in her body.
"Have you ever looked in a mirror, Andy? Oh wait...!"
"Oh shut it. As if you don't comb your hair eighty five times a day."
"It pays off, unlike your mangled mess of keratin you call 'volume'."
"Suck a dick."
"Gladly."
"Zip it."
"That's what I tell him after he's done."
"Sirius what the fuck?!" Andromeda exclaimed, then they just burst out into unfiltered laughter. It was the small speck of joy that was barely seen in their family that brought them together. Just two broken souls with a wish.
The laughter died down, and Sirius' eyes turned sinscere. "'Dro, you still turn in water?" He asked anxiously, his tone tender and soft.
Andromeda blinked, then nodded serenely, shifting uncomfortably. "Of course, I'm, still a... siren, what would you expect?" She joked, but her smile didn't reach her eyes. She dipped her ombre (dark blue this time, not obsidian black, like Sirius'.) feet in the water, and scales formed at the sides. Her breath hitched, and she dried it away quickly.
"Andy..." Sirius began, but Andromeda shook her head. Sirius nodded, turned away, and the two sat in peaceful silence. They were lost in their own thoughts for now, and sometimes, we need some time to think.
Andy ran away when she was sixteen, when she was forced to marry a shark she did not wish to love. She was so done with this burden of being so bloodthirsty, that she had to start her life from the beginning.
She never did go back to water. Sirius knew this was for the best, but oh, did his heart ache when he looked at the empty corals where Andromeda once slept in.
The two met on this desolate part of the island every day at 6:00, talking about their life and journey, and celebrating individually by themselves, exchanging gifts and remarks that loud parties never seem to quench. Sirius cried on Andromeda's shoulder after he confessed that he didn't want to hear humans, and Andromeda cried on Sirius' shoulder after her first kill.
Just two black sheep of the family bonding jver similarities. They support and compare, gossip and dispair.
xxx
Andromeda was the only reason Sirius was still alive. To avoid suspicious government checking, every complaint or criticism about her Riverside resort was wiped away cold blooded murder. She sank teeth down the necks of people who filed a missing person report, and disposed of the bodies to the rivers for merpeople alike to feast on.
But for holidays, she gets burnt out, and a line forms out her office door, greiving, panicking people giddy with fear, not knowing they were about to be ingested by not one but two magical creatures. She likes blood because, she's a fucking vampire, what would you expect, but one can only take so much metallic, iron-y taste linger in their mouth for days.
No complaints made it out the public eye, and Andy really knew how to play it cool and well. She never had any people suspicious about her intentions because she looked so hospitable and her presence was so warm and her overall charm was so comforting, but they never saw that her grin never reached her eyes and how her smile never shows her teeth.
She made this resort to support Sirius and herself only. She knew Sirius was unsure weather to run away or not, and she would keep fighting stomach pains and greif just to be there alongside him.
If Sirius had made up his mind about running away with her, she would file the missing people reports to the government and spill the locations of the merpeople that ridiculed her. It was cruel, but it was a taste of their own medicine.
She had the upper hand now, no doubt. She pulls the strings on her family, not the other way around, and Sirius found that very charming.
xxx
Andromeda brings up some rice balls covered in seaweed, knowing Sirius wouldn't accept flesh. She opened the banana leaf container and handed Sirius two and ate one for herself.
Sirius stared at the rice balls in awe, looking at his cousin. "You made this?" He said, taking a bite. He savours the salty-sweet flavour on the sesame seeds and seaweed. His smile grew when he tasted no tuna nor fish.
Andromeda grinned back. "I'm glad you like it!" She exclaimed, taking a bite of her own.
The two chittered on about recent happenings, news, the latest gossip, rumours, everything, until their throats hurt, and their stomach ached. They ate berries they found around the barren part, and made various crafts for entertainment.
As the minutes ticked by, they slowly slipped into serious talk, about personal feelings and life, but they stepped out as they realized they were. After a moment of silence, they watched the sun and caught their breaths, and they parted ways once more.
Remus awoke and went to the shower to clean up. Once stepping out the warm shower, he picks up his towel and dries up beads of water clinging on his body. He wrapped the towel around his waist and picked up some clothes out of his closet.
A white button up, some black dress pants, and some platformed Doc Martens, partnered with a sage green, geometric sweater to finish it off. He pinned gold framed glasses on the collar of his sweater and walked to the kitchen.
He felt a sense of pride, after seeing the room once so dirty, so clean. The counter tops reflected and the fridge shone; the boys went all out. He felt oddly proud to be able to order the boys around however he liked.
James was sitting on the couch next to Peter, reading a newspaper while grinning. Peter chose to get a little shut-eye with static radio sound playing in the background.
Remus knocked his knuckles on the wooden dooframe that called the boys' attention.
"Hello. It's time to go." Remus called out, and James stood up so abruptly that you'd miss it in the blink of an eye. He folded the newspaper and threw it onto the couch, walking to Remus' side.
Peter was the opposite; he seemed to drag himself off the couch, languid movements as he shuts the radio with over exaggerated slowness, not speeding up to join Remus' side along with James.
"There ya' go." Remus said as he dusted dirt off Peter's hair. "Out you go." Remus opened the front door and allowed the two to step out first before him, locking the door and throwing the spare key in the pot of the snake plant at the side of the door.
xxx
The three walked to the food court just nearby, and James excused himself immediately to the shake shack. Remus rolled his eyes, but let James go where he wants. He and Peter walked to the pancake house that served breakfast at this time of the day, and ordered three pancakes, dine-out.
The two sat on a circle table with two chairs, Remus laying his back on the chair, crossing his legs, and Peter ducking forwards on the table, hands intertwined together, and feet tucked under the chair.
"Peter. D'you hear about them siren roumors round' here?" Remus asked, tilting his head. He made eye contact with Peter as he spoke, tapping his feet rhythmically under the table.
Peter tutted and kicked Remus under the table to stop his anxious movements. "Of course I did, Remus. We've lived here for 16 years."
"Mm." Remus said, looking away. He paused his tapping, a moment of silence setting itself on the two. After some few seconds, Remus spoke up. "Wanna debunk? The myth, I mean."
"You're telling me to go to the sea unsupervised where we can potentially meet our impending doom?" Peter raised an eyebrow.
"For funsies. I just want an easy way to get rich." Remus shrugged.
"Funsies isn't juggling chainsaws metaphorically, for the love of all books created."
"Okay. We won't do this if you go a full day without reading."
"I would accept if rope wasn't so available."
"Pete, no please. We love and adore you."
"I don't think putting me in the potential road of death is called loving."
"Fine point, my guy."
"Likewise, comrade." Peter laughed. The pancakes were placed on their table by a waitress in roller skates, and James walked in, a huge grin on his face, and his pace, his confident stride.
xxx
After they've filled James in with their recent conversation with syrup stained lips and forks crumbed with pancake and butter, James was stubborn, and wanted to debunk the siren myth, on Peter's reluctance.
They only got Peter to join because they also said that they would fish for their dinner. And since Peter also had a soft spot for fishing and homemade dinner, he got on board.
But in the end, after an endless argument between Peter and James, now they were on boats, Peter with his books, Remus with his camera, and James with a grin and a ballpoint pen and a notepad. All three had whistles in their pockets, just in case.
The three bid each other goodluck, and paddled on away, James leading first. Then Peter, then Remus.
Remus boats past the white and red bobbles, and the current doesn't change much. The temperature was as cold as ever and the soft glow of sun graced the sea. He took landscape pictures, until he turned his head around, and on a boulder, was a boy with pale, supple skin, sharp grey eyes, raven, curly hair, and obsidian ombres on his limbs.
Remus was entranced; the boy locked eyes with him, and he shifted positions, sitting up, legs covering his his waist. Remus couldn't even bring himself to take a picture, he clutches at his camera, and stared at the beautiful boy in front of him.
The unnaturally symmetrical, pale body, delicate features and damp curly hair, Remus couldn't ask for more. He just kept there, the boy looking at him, him looking at the boy.
And then, the boy hummed a catchy tune that lulled Remus to a hypnotizing trance, but Remus kept still, and only savoured and listened to the soft song.
Remus felt his ankles go wet and cold, fingers clutching at his feet, he felt water submerge his leg, but he couldn't move because the boy is still singing and the chorus was about to start—then a sharp whistle cuts through the silence.
Remus finds cold hand gripping at his feet and he grabs the paddle and roughly pangs the yellow-eyed mermaid clutching at him, though this made him slip and fall. His sweater gets wet and heavy, but he grabs the paddle and hits the humanoid again, drawing blood from it's forehead to the middle of it's eye, thrashing and trying to get the siren song out if his head.
He was getting dizzy, his grip was getting weak, and the mermaid was screaming at the bleeding scar, silver glitter splashing at the paddle and bleeding into the river. He was going to collapse any minute because of the sons weakening him, and he feels the damp, wet hair of the mermaid brush his nose, teeth ghosting his skin, and the silver, metallic blood drip on his forehead;
xxx
With a loud, deafening scream from the mermaid, Remus was pulled to a boat, and the mermaid was in a net, being paddled to the shore. He blinked and saw James looking down at him, cleaning off silver on his forehead.
Remus looks around his surroundings, noticing a net in James with fish of shiny scales, and various tint red-scaled fish with pointed noses in between their eyes.
Remus sits up, looking at his discarded boat sinking down to the river, and he looks down at his camera; he takes it, brings the shutter to his eye, but nothing is there.
He shakes the camera and tries again, but no reception. He wipes the lens and the entire bodice with James' towel, no reception. He groans and just peacefully watches the mermaid in a net get dragged behind Peter's boat, the scene almost comedic. Ha. Thats what you get for eating humans.
xxx
They eventually get to shore, laughing and talking. When Peter looked at the net, it was gnawed and broken, and no mermaid was in it. The three grumbled and groaned with frustration; another way to being rich slipped away once more.
When they walked home they showered, soaked Remus' camera in rice, and as the sun sets into a beautiful afternoon, the three settled down on the couch and watched TV programs.
On the coffee table in front of the couch, was newspaper from James; free, because he worked in the district. The top headline read the words;
BANSHEE OR MURDER?: FAMOUS DIAGON ALLEY RESORT HANDLING MORE THAN SWIMMERS?
The three chose to ignore it. They will not get involved within murder suspections.
Remus couldn't get the siren song out of his head, but he knew they weren't allies. Sirens and merpeople should be hunted down. Not defended. He was so lost in his thoughts, so immersed on the boy on the boulder, until he looked at the TV—
On the vlogging channel, the one that had daily checkups on the latest goss, was Andromeda, proudly presenting her "cousin that travelled abroad" to the news reporter, showing off various stories and information about the other boy. He later learned that his name was "Serious".
"Serious? Like, the word?" The reporter asked.
"Oh, no, no! Sirius, the dog star! Seen in the Canis Major?" Andromeda laughed.
Sirius tutted. "S-I-R-I-U-S. Sirius." He corrected.
Remus mentally scratched off "Serious" on his head and rewrote "Sirius". He knew about Astronomy, purely because of his lycanthropy, and its relation with astronomical patterns.
Sirius, Remus repeated in his head.
Remus' mind clicks the puzzle prices together. It was the annoyingly beautiful siren he saw on the boulder. He took a closer look, and Sirius' fingers, had an obsidian ombre.
Holy. Shit.
Holy shit.
Remus leaped up to tell Peter and James about the boy, about his encounter, vaguely avoiding how he felt whipped for the man, and the afternoon set with panicked explanations and rapid fire textbook answers from Peter. Three hours went by, and they survived on salty crackers, fish and limited explanation, and the fruit of their rambling session?
An entire board, with varying hand writing; one in neat, clean letters in blue ink, scrawled, slanted serif in black ink, and unneven cursive in red ink. Complete with hand-drawn pictures, sentences ripped out of a text book, and explination after explination;
It was a free for all, and when sleepiness settled in, they left the little procrastination board on the empty wall on the living room across the couch behind the telly, with big, bold letters above it;
"MERMAIDS ARE REAL; DEBUNKED!"
And below the title?
"Final answer: YES / NO
*result may change with time
Credits: Remus Lupin in black ink, James Potter in blue ink, and Peter Pettigrew in red ink.
PROUDLY PRESENT YOU,"
And the board rests below the title, waiting to be debunked and finished.
xxx