Harry Potter and The Boy Who Had No Choice

That explains a lot

Chapter Twenty-Two

It was the night before the first Quidditch match of the season and Harry couldn't sleep. The anxiety of the next day kept his mind awake. He had managed to doze off sometime around eleven o'clock, but was quickly awoken by his own nightmares. Harry found his nightmares were at their worst when his stress was high.

He had tried to recall the dream once he was awake, but it was no use. All he could remember was a flash of green light and the sound of someone screaming.

Harry reached under his bed and pulled out Sirius' diary, dusting it off slightly. He hadn't had a chance to read any further since Wednesday, as Ginny was holding near-nonstop practices and his teachers had decided that this particular week was the best time to start piling on homework, Quidditch match be damned.

He flipped to the next entry, pulling the curtains around his bed closed and casting lumos. He was eager to read; after the last entry, he was more confused than ever.

November 7th, 1976

Dear God (because clearly God is the one reading this, as I am apparently the luckiest person alive),

Harry chuckled at the odd greeting and continued reading.

I thought I was good at knowing who fancied me. I really did. I knew that Mary fancied me before she even told Evans, I knew that Martha fancied me before she knew it herself, but I really had no clue about this one until last night.

Harry furrowed his brows. Did something happen on November 6th that Sirius didn't record?

Of course, I had to be sure. So I put my hypothesis to the test, and you'll never guess what happened...

The world spun to a stop and Harry was inside the boy's dormitory, only now, it was nearing late afternoon, the sun blazing bright through the window despite the fall chill. Remus was sprawled across his bed, lying on his back, holding a book above him. He was so entranced by whatever he was reading that he didn't notice the door open and close, and failed to see Sirius waltz over to him.

"Lo Moony," Sirius greeted, flopping down on the bed, his hair falling majestically into his face. Remus nearly jumped off the bed in shock, accidentally dropping his book onto his face. Sirius barked out in laughter and snatched the book, thumbing through it for a moment before deciding it was uninteresting and tossing it aside.

"Shouldn't you be down helping James with the Common Room?" Remus said, rubbing his nose.

"It's not as if Evans is actually going to say yes this time," Sirius blew a few strands of hair out of his face and scouched closer to Remus. "Me helping Prongs decorate certainly isn't going to improve his chances."

"Fair point," Remus admitted. He glanced between them, taking note of their closeness and quickly sprang off the bed, leaving Harry confused. They were always close with each other, why would that bother Remus now? "Anyways, I was just grabbing a book and heading to the library."

"Actually, I was sort of... looking for you," Sirius stammered awkwardly. It was odd to see Sirius awkward; Harry hardly thought it was possible. "We never talked about... you know, what happened last night."

"I dunno what you're talking about," Remus said, and Harry agreed. He certainly felt that Remus and Sirius' interaction in the last entry had been... odd, but he also didn't think that anything significant had happened.

"Yeah, yeah you do," Sirius argued, jumping off the bed to face Remus straight on. Granted, the werewolf still had a few inches on him, so Sirius puffed out his chest to appear taller. "I know because you're doing the face again."