The Missing Marauder: A Harry Potter FanFiction

Chapter 20

Spring Break of 1977

"I'm not so sure about this..." Rowan muttered indecisively.  

"Do you trust me?" Sirius whispered in her ear.  

"Absolutely," she replied, "I, however, don't trust this machine."  

"If you trust me, than trust the bike," he said.  

She whimpered as the motorcycle's engine roared.  

"Are you scared?" he mocked, "You're shaking-"  

"That's because the bike is shaking," she defended.  

"Don't blame the bike," he said, "It's all on you."  

"Gee, thanks," she joked, "I'm not scared, I'm just nervous."  

"Don't be," he encouraged, "I'll be right here behind you the entire time. And don't forget, I'm technically still the one driving this thing, so all you have to do is hold on tight and enjoy the ride."  

"Okay," she agreed, leaning back into him, "All set."  

The bike roared again and took off, speeding down the dirt driveway of her aunt's farmhouse.  

Sirius, obviously, was experienced with his motorcycle, and could maneuver it down the driveway and through the winding, bumpy roads that led to London.  

"You feeling the thrill yet?" he yelled over the noise, but she didn't hear him. She was too busy laughing and screaming at the same time, holding on to the handles for dear life and enjoying the feeling of danger knocking on her door.  

Instead of going to London, however, they headed for Brighton, a beach town about an hour away from there. Normally, it'd be too cold to go to the beach in April, but it was supposed to be the hottest day they'd get out of their spring break, so they wanted to make the most of it.  

It turned out to be even hotter than they'd expected.  

Sirius had the bike parked on the street, and was lying down on the sand lazily and staring at Rowan, who was splashing around playfully in the clear blue water. She was still wearing her shorts and a solid red bikini top, her tank and shoes sitting beside Sirius. Her hair was clinging to her cheeks and she smiled at him, flailing her arms in every random direction and laughed, "Get in the water!"  

"That's fine," he called, "I need to work on my tan."  

"Oh, come on!" she pleaded, "Please?"  

"I'd rather stay dry."  

"We're on a beach! We're supposed to get wet!"  

"You just keep on splashing around in the water, and I'll just lie here and stare at the sun."  

With a dramatic sigh of disappointment, she rushed out of the water and hurried up the beach to him.  

"Don't you dare!" he warned as she got closer and threatened to get him wet.  

She smiled mischievously and took another step.  

He sat up straight and put out a finger. "Stop right there...don't take another step...or you'll regret it."  

She crossed her arms. Standing less than a yard away from him, she shrugged and said, "Fine. I won't take a single step. But you know what?"  

He raised an eyebrow but asked suspiciously, "What?"  

"I'm a wolf," she explained, "And wolves, like dogs, don't like to be dripping wet." Before he could respond, she leaned over and flipped her soaking wet hair, spraying water all over the place.