Crossroads | Marauders

Chapter 38: Latibule

        Remus is crouching at the open doorway, his eyes wide as if he'd just been caught stealing a priceless jewel at a museum. A half-eaten tart clings to his mouth for dear life, his arm stuffed with pastries you're afraid could drop at any moment. You laugh at the sight of him alone in a large kitchen attempting to steal a snack. He straightens his spine, and grabs the oozing tart out of his mouth to speak.

        "I was just—" Remus stammers, his eyes frantic as he tries to find an excuse for neglecting his duties.

        "Grabbing a midnight snack? Us, too," Sirius simply says as he strolls past him, patting his shoulder before walking over and stopping in front of a bottle cabinet on the side of the room.

        "Pumpkin tart?" Remus offers, handing you an uneaten pudding from the collected pile in his arm.

        You shake your head, smiling as you take the tart from him and make your way across the room towards the dimly lit fireplace. You sit down on the tile floor, making yourself comfortable with Remus doing the same beside you while you curiously eyed Sirius rummaging through the cabinet as if searching for a particular drink to devour tonight.

        "Gold mine. Look what I found!" Sirius exclaims, his head reappearing in sight as he holds up a black bottle with a red sticker. "A fresh bottle of Firewhisky. Luckily, my stock ran out just in time," he adds, grabbing a couple of glasses from a nearby cupboard.

        Remus nods as if considering for a moment before blurting out, "I definitely could use a drink."

        You raise an eyebrow at him. "Since when did you drink?"

        "I—" He opens and clamps his mouth back shut, only realising now how he failed to ever mention when he started.

        "My my, Remus. You've been holding out on princess over here," Sirius teases, sitting down across the two of you, and leaning against one of the long tables behind him. His long legs splay out, crossed at the ankles as he pops open the bottle and begins pouring the glasses. Looking at you as he offers one to Remus, he goes on to say, "Looks like I know something about him that you don't. Moony here gulps down a warm glass every night before the full moon."

        Remus gives you a sheepish smile, taking the drink from him. "Keeps the nerves at bay."

        His usual eye lines told of laughter, of warm smiles and affection were now replaced with dark circles and redness around his eyes. It was easy to know that it was more than just nerves he needed to ease tonight. You were all mourning a loss, and maybe a night spent together, no matter how brief, would help ease the pain.

        "Naughty boy, isn't he?" Sirius chuckles lightly, handing you a glass. "Not what you'd expect from the smart, perfect prefect himself."

        "Shut it," Remus spits back after taking a sip of his drink with a straight face. "You're the one keeping bottles under your bed like it's some good luck charm."

        Sirius scoffs. "Like it isn't?"

        You roll your eyes, biting on your tart as you nudge Remus' shoulder. "Remus. Sirius has been hoarding alcohol under your watch without you so much as batting an eyelash. I'm sure the title of perfect prefect was already out the window a long time ago."

        "Hey," Remus scolds, pausing as he tries to hold on what's left of the authority his title held until his shoulders slumped defeatedly. "Yeah, you're right. I would've gone mad."

        "So, I assume a 'thank you' is in order?" Sirius raises his glass and takes a swig.

        Remus shoots him a look. "Don't push it." And Sirius shrugs him off with a dismissive wave.