a beautiful world | wolfstar

odd serenity

McGonagall raised her eyebrows. "Everyone, get on with your work." A pause. "Now." A more busy pause. "Mr Lupin, I'll be with you in a moment."

Remus slumped forward on the desk. Sirius patted his shoulder. "Oh, well, it was bound to come out eventually."

"I'm gonna fucking kill James." James, who was still listening in, gulped and moved back in his seat. Lily raised her eyebrows at him.

"You brought this upon yourself, mate."

Remus mumbled something into his arms. Sirius leaned closer. "Sorry?"

"I should quit."

"Only an idiot would quit," Sirius said, exasperated.

"Aw, thanks." Remus turned his head, so that Sirius could see his faux-sweet expression. "You don't think I'm an idiot."

"You're definitely an idiot, my friend."

"Ouch."

Patting Remus' shoulder, Sirius picked up his pen again and started to write. McGonagall walked over to their table a moment after, her face blank and serious.

"So, Mr Lupin," she began.

"Yes...?"

"You're performing on Saturday."

Remus nodded dejectedly.

"And you're prepared?"

"I - yes." He sounded like he was trying to convince himself. "Yes, I'm prepared." Sirius smiled at him. Remus smiled back, eyebrows furrowed in worry, and Sirius felt like hugging him. He didn't, of course, but I suppose it's the thought that counts? Maybe?

McGonagall nodded slowly, eyes thoughtful, and then her face was suddenly soft as she smiled. "I wish you luck, Mr Lupin. I am sure you will do brilliantly."

Remus froze, then grinned.

"Let's hope so."

***

There's something intense about a hall full of people. The quiet hum of polite chatter, the shadows on the audience and the lights on the stage. The tap of fingers against mics to check if they were working. The twang of instruments that were being tuned. The slow breathing of every performer as they tried to settle the nervousness that had curled up in their stomachs.

Remus carefully leaned his guitar against his leg, standing backstage with the other students. Sirius stood beside him, almost as nervous as his friend.

Not even an hour ago, in the boys' dormitory, Sirius had been throwing clothes out of Remus' drawer, trying to find something suitable (or, in Sirius' words, 'sexy but sophisticated').

He had ended up choosing a white shirt, a baggy beige-coloured jumper, dark jeans and, after some pleading on Sirius' side, black eyeliner. Remus looked adorable. Sirius was finding it difficult to not stare at him.

There was a weird thickness in the air. Remus looked pale, tugging at his jumper sleeves.

"Remus?"

"Yeah?" He sounded calm. His foot tapped against the floor.

Sirius didn't say anymore. In a sudden fit of bravery [A/N: sleep deprivation does weird things to the mind], he gently brushed his hand against Remus'. After a second of hesitation, Sirius found their fingers being slowly intertwined. His heart raced. What?

Professor Flitwick appeared. "Can everyone who is not performing please make their way to the hall?"

Sirius tightened his hold for just a second, still shocked that Remus had allowed it, then let go. They both took a deep breath.

Remus looked at the ground. "Sirius?"

"Yes?"

Nothing more. Remus looked him in the eye, and Sirius studied the pure amber as quickly as time allowed. There was nervousness. But there was also an odd serenity that made his face glow.

Sirius smiled softly, walking away. As he reached the door, he glanced over his shoulder. His friend was still looking at him.

Remus' lips turned up, more at the left than the right. His eyebrows furrowed together a little. His eyes were quiet.

Remus' lips turned up, and for a moment, the incessant noise gave way to silence.

Then Sirius walked through the door, the noise filled his ears again, and he made his way to his seat beside James.

Good luck, Remus.