Slytherin Robes
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't think J K Rowling is a Sirius Black/Warrington shipper. I am, ergo I am not J K R.
Warning: SLASH Sirius Black/Warrington. M for sexual references.
AN: Read and review! This was fun to write! There will be a sequel, eventually, where Sirius tries to find out the story behind Remus' last comment.
"What did you just say?"
Warrington flushed and glared at his feet. "Look," he muttered, "forget it. I didn't mean it, OK?"
"No," I replied, "seriously. What did you say?"
"Mnglungmmnn…" he mumbled.
"I mean it."
"I asked if you'd go out with me! Happy? Glad to have been of service!"
I turned to Remus, standing silently beside me. "Touchy," I muttered, as we strolled into the Great Hall.
I didn't say any more about it, but I'd noticed that Warrington had shown weakness – something a Slytherin should never do – in front of a Gryffindor – which was worse – and a blood-traitor. Hmm… Definitely something to think about…
Three days later, and I'd decided that I'd thought about it enough, even if my brain didn't agree. It had produced hours of vivid films involving me, Warrington, and, frequently, a bed. Or sometimes just a distinct lack of anything that could be loosely termed 'clothing'.
What was it about Warrington that I found so fascinating? He was a boy, a Slytherin and two years older than me – not that I'd been put off with older girls. Maybe that was it. Maybe he was just fascinating because he was male.
But I didn't watch James' every move with total fascination, and I didn't have unexplained urges to stick my tongue down Dumbledore's throat. Slytherin boys, then? But Slughorn didn't make me go hard, not even when his classroom stank of Amortentia. And who would want to fondle Snivellus' hair?
Older Slytherin boys gave me the same problem. I had no wish to stroke Goyle till he screamed at me to go on and just do it, and I definitely didn't want to lick honey off Lucius Malfoy.
But Warrington… Warrington was different.
I went to look for him after class, and found him lurking near the Hospital Wing. He looked very shifty when I asked him what he was doing there, so I just said my piece and hoped that I'd be taken seriously.
It was almost an exact re-run of the scene before.
"No, I mean, really?"
I nodded, suddenly unsure of what I'd done.
"But… where can we go?"
My mouth finally started working. "I know somewhere," I gabbled. "It's not far from here, and hardly anyone knows it exists. Come on, I can show you…"
The Shrieking Shack was probably the most private place I could have found. It was spookily silent. I was used to it being filled with the pained howls of a werewolf, after all. But now, when the moon was new, every whisper was too loud, every footstep a thunderous echo.
Warrington looked around. "It's alright," he admitted, grudgingly, and started removing his robes.
He was in another room, thank Merlin, when Remus appeared. I heard the soft footsteps coming up the stairs and had just enough time to pull the bedcovers over my naked body before the door opened and Remus' head peered in.
He looked around the room before spotting me trying to fall through the bed and onto the floor. Preferably through the floor, too, actually.
"Hello, Sirius."
"Mmm…" I mumbled, as though I could be Sirius, but that wasn't to say that I was.
"You've been… busy… in here."
"Mmm…" My tone didn't change.
His golden eyes took in the mess on the floor, including the very masculine Slytherin robes. "So… you like Slytherin boys too?"
I gaped at him. Who else did? Not James – he was besotted with Lily Evans – and Peter, though he would never admit it, fancied a Hufflepuff in the year below us. So it could only be Remus. Remus? Surely not.
I could see that Remus could see my thoughts, and was enjoying the view.
"I'll see you in the library in ten minutes, will I?" he asked, mildly.
I stared at his back as he left the room.