It’s autumn and Sirius falls back into a pile of leaves raked by magic. His red sweater slides up his stomach, exposing pale skin and dark hairs. A contrast, Remus thinks. He stands towering above him, watching Sirius’s closed eyes and content lips bending upwards. If only everything could be fixed with a bed of leaves.
“Are you going to just stand there?” Sirius asks.
Remus fiddles with the ends of his scarf before carefully planting himself down next to Sirius. He lays back and hopes the leaves are sanitary and insect-free. In fact, they are scratchy and not terribly comfortable. He eyes Sirius. There is a crinkly red leaf stuck in his tangled hair. Remus has the urge to pull it out, but refrains. The sky looms high above them and the breeze is chilling.
“What are you thinking?”
“It’s cold.”
“Oh, that’s deep, Moony,” Sirius teases, eyes still shut.
“What are you thinking about then?”
“That I wish I could have some of my mother’s apple crumble. It’s completely delicious.” For a moment, he looked as if he was far away. “Only thing I miss about her.” A smirk.
Remus looks over at his friend. His mouth is now straight, his brow slightly wrinkled. Remus thinks Sirius looked very picturesque with the colorful leaves surrounding him, his cheeks rosy from the cold, and the dark hairs on his stomach. Suddenly Sirius’ eyes pop opened and he turns to him and grins. Standing up, he grabs a handful of leaves and throws them on top of Remus.
“Oi, Pads!” Remus cries and starts kicking wildly as Sirius climbs on top of him, shoving autumn-smelling leaves in his hair and down his shirt.
Together they roll in the leaves, accumulating grass and dirt stains as they spin. Although fifteen, Remus feels the rush of being a young boy. It is a strange feeling, as even when he was a child, his parents would often say, “He’s like a little old man, he is.”
Soon their once cold bodies are warm and they are both tired and panting, Sirius puffing hot breath into Remus’ face.
“Lay off,” Remus complains, but is content wrapped up and warm in the tangle of Sirius’ sweater-and-corduroys body.
“Moony?” Sirius watches him intensely. “Do you think we could try making our own apple crumble?”
Remus looks into his eyes pensively. Then he pokes Sirius in the chest and smiles.
“Don’t see why not.”