people can interpret

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"Hey, Siri!"

Sirius turned, a ready smile on his face. "Hi Mike, didn't see you at breakfast."

Michael Willims, Sirius' current boyfriend, shrugged, smiling back. "Overslept. I only got up about fifteen minutes before English."

"Lord help me, I'm going out with a sloth."

"You decided to. Reap the consequences."

The boy leaned down to Sirius' (very much shorter) height, kissing him briefly. "Have to go to chemistry now. See you."

Sirius watched him go, a small frown between his eyebrows. It disappeared when Lily popped up beside him.

"Is that your new beau?" she asked as they went into the classroom.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "What gave it away?"

"Shut up."

"Hello class!" The art teacher, Professor Trelawney, waved her hands in greeting. "Now, this year in art we are going to be exploring the beautiful aspects of portraiture!"

"Brilliant!" Sirius whispered, smiling and opening his art pad.

"Yes, very brilliant." Lily sounded less enthused.

"Now," said Trelawney, beckoning for the students to crowd around her seat at a table, "The wonderful thing about portraiture is that people can interpret what painting a face is about very differently." There were a few puzzled glances.

"For example, some may say it's about the accuracy of the features: the distance between the eyes, the curve of the lips, the structure of the nose..." Some people nodded. "Others may say it's about capturing the character of the person they are drawing, about the emotion that has been portrayed." A few more nods.

"I want you all to write about what's important to you in a portrait. It can be based off someone you know." Trelawney looked around, her eyes huge behind her glasses. "What are you waiting for? Get writing!"

"So, are you going to write about... what's your boyfriend's name?" Lily asked.

"Michael. And I probably will, yeah. And you?" Sirius smirked. "Potter?"

"Very funny, Black."

With that, they got to work.

Sirius tried to conjure up an image of Michael in his head. Tried to imagine his light blond hair, the pale blue eyes... But another picture kept pushing him away.

Before he could stop himself, Sirius started writing about a different boy entirely.

soft light-brown hair, messy, keeps having to brush it out of his face...eyes tinted amber, looks like the evening sky in some lights, always a little tired...freckles, lots of them, like seeds...usually looks a little bored... when he smiles the left side of his mouth goes up further than the right and his eyebrows kinda scrunch together...a long white scar along his right cheek, from when he was in that car accident...lips are pink and chapped...cute as hell...

Lily looked over his shoulder. "I don't think Michael has a scar on his cheek."

Scowling, Sirius covered up his page. "Piss off you bloody tomato."

"Why are you writing about Remus, ey, Black?" She sounded too smug for Sirius' liking.

"Just because I can recognise and admire Remus' surprisingly good looks doesn't mean I like him."

"Sure. I believe you. Totally." Lily scribbled something down.

His feathers ruffled, Sirius peeked at Lily's paper, determined to find something to embarrass her. "Black hair, hazel eyes and glasses." Bingo. "Sounds familiar, if you ask me."

"Well I didn't, so keep your mouth shut."

"James will have a fit."

"Tell him and it will be the last thing you ever do." Something in her green eyes made him nervous. "Understand, Black?"

"Ha, yes?"

She turned back to her writing. "Good."

Why the hell did I write that? Sirius thought to himself [A/N: I have no clue either, guys. *winks*]. Michael was his boyfriend, very nice, and very cute.

But he there was something about Remus that was just so different from everyone else. Something rare and wonderful.

The way his hands always disappeared into his jumper sleeves.

The way he had to physically look down on everyone because of his ridiculous height. I mean come on. Six foot two? Really? Sirius thought, exasperated (he was five foot five though, so maybe he felt threatened).

The way he rubbed his neck when he was embarrassed, usually because of the other marauders.

His beautiful hands.

Sirius dropped his pen, frowning. He thought that going out with other boys and the summer holiday would make his infuriating crush go away.

Apparently not, it seems.

"Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

"You look like you're going to kill someone."

"Who says I won't?" But he picked up his pen all the same.

Oh, well, he thought, Michael was a bit dull anyway.

Poor Michael.

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