A Circle of Flame- Sirius Black x OC

Chapter 38

"Nice lovebites, mate. I would say a vampire was an excellent choice on Prewett's end."

Groaning, Sirius rolled back over on his mattress and pressed his face into his pillow. It was far too early to endure another bout of Prong's jesting.

"James." Remus's voice was decidedly irritated. Full Moon was only a week away and it tended to bring out his more aggressive side. "Shut up before I shove your diary in Lily's bookbag."

At this, Sirius cracked his eyes open just enough to see the scowl on James's face. There were the telltale three wrinkles between his brows.

"It's not a diary, Moony. It's a planner."

A grumble from beneath the pile of blankets upon Remus's mattress was the only response.

Peter was already busy working on his History of Magic essay. Binns had assigned them two rolls of parchment on the goblin wars, an assignment that Sirius hadn't bothered starting.

What use was learning history when he could make it?

"Boys, it's Saturday." James straightened his shoulders and tossed a wadded-up pair of trousers at Sirius's head. His aim was perfect, and the brass buckle smacked Sirius's forehead. "Let's not waste a day."

Groaning, Sirius adopted the Moony mentality as he pulled the comforter tighter over his head. The sour smell of alcohol and sweat stung his nose. It was likely past time to wash his sheets. Walburga had used a "scourgify" on a daily basis. Hence, Sirius managed the charm maybe once a month.

"I'll schedule an extra quidditch practice."

This threat was enough for Sirus to shoot his head up from his pillow. James grinned widely at his lopsided curls.

"Morning, Pads."

"Bloody hell." Sirius raked his hair back from his face. He swore that Moony had stolen his silk pillowcase. The werewolf's hair had been much smoother as of late. "My arm is about to fall off. You really want Wood as chaser?"

They both grimaced at the thought of the over-confident third year. It would be a miracle if he survived long enough on a broom to see a match.

"I know you better than that." James shrugged and ripped the comforter from Sirus's clutches. "Besides, who's gonna play for the Hornets if we aren't practicing six days a week?"

Sirius watched the wistful smirk curl the Gryffindor's cheeks. His hazel eyes were alight with flying fantasies. If their world had not been immersed in war, Sirius was certain that James would be booked with a professional Quidditch team. He was the only one in the castle who truly lived for the game.

"You stick with that dream," Sirius sat up on the side of his bed and stretched, pressed his fingers lightly to the base of his throat. He was certainly no prude, but Prewett knew how to leave a mark.

A faint purple blossomed against the light hue of his skin.

"You better cover that before Minnie sees." James wrinkled his nose as Sirius pulled on a jumper from the muddled floor. They had long lost track of whose clothes belonged to who. "She'll curse your—"

The rest of his expletive was silenced by Remus's pillow crashing into the wall.

"I don't care if you want to play beauty parlor with Snape." Remus's voice was barely decipherable behind his mattress. "Just leave me in peace."

James caught Sirius's eye as they jogged from the dormitory.

"Beauty parlor?"

Shaking his head, Sirius snagged a leftover bottle of Butterbeer from the common room. It had been a typical Friday night and McGonagall was sure to make them clean over the weekend.

"Some Muggle thing I reckon."

The corridors were unusually empty as James and Sirius made their way down the corridor, stopping by the kitchens for a quick bite. The house elves happily provided the boys with a basket of warm pastries. Bits of chocolate inlaid in the dough melted on Sirius's tongue as he took the first bite.

"Reminds me how useless Kreacher is." Sirius tossed a roll towards James as they began their search for Peeves. "Still surprised Burgers didn't let him starve me to death."

Humming in agreement, James took a generous bite of his roll. "So, are we gonna talk about her?"

"Talk about—" Sirius sighed at James's raised brow. He would not get away with feigned ignorance. "Dunno mate, not much to say."

"I walked in on the two of you pinned against a wall. Mate, you owe me a bit more than that."

James's gaze was unwavering. On their right, Nearly Headless Nick hovered by with a curt nod. The ghost hadn't liked them since third year. Sirius had made one too many guillotine references.

"She said she wanted to be friends on the train," Sirius tugged on the bottom of his jumper, straightening the knitted rows. "And then the next minute she's staring at me like she wants to snog me senseless." He tried not to think about her cinnamon-coloured orbs. "And then I'm getting my head ripped off before I can even get my thoughts straight."

The quirk of James's lips made Sirius pause. He narrowed his eyes, using the light pouring through the window above to examine James closer.

"Spit it out, why don't you?"

"You just might have found your future wife," James sniggered as he pulled a Snitch from his pocket. The wings of the ball fluttered gently, as if reluctant to leave its owner's grasp. "Only one who can keep up with your moods. You're worse than Moony during his time of the month."

Rolling his eyes, Sirius shoved the instant offense deep into his chest. James always knew to target the topics that most irritated him. It was a true talent.

"Just don't expect me to act like you do towards Evans."

James grinned. "Since when have you been a gentleman?"