Author: Amy Fortuna
Summary: Just a lazy evening and teenage!Remus thinking....very short.
My fingers comb through your fur with an almost absent-minded laziness; it is a quiet evening, and I have nothing to fear, not now. It is quiet in Hogwarts, and the full moon is far away.
James sits on his own bed across the room, looking over notes we are making for the Map. Peter is at the library trying to find a copy of *The Four Founders: All About The Houses*. We need it for our work. And you lie, in dog form, on my bed, snuggled up next to me.
We've discovered something about each other since you learned how to transform. We understand each other, on a very deep level. It's almost like we can read each other's thoughts, when we are both transformed. You communicate to me what you are and what you expect me to be. And I have the will and the means to comply. You give me the ability to control myself.
And I can't keep my hands off you, when you're in dog form. I keep petting you. You growl at James and Peter when they try it, but you let me. You even seem to like it.
It hasn't been easy for any of you, learning how to do this. At first we were almost certain it couldn't be done, not without learning all kinds of things that we wouldn't be studying in class.
But we were wrong. It actually turned out to be rather simple. Any decent witch or wizard could figure it out. The most complicated part of becoming Animagi was choosing what to become.
James likes deer, and he thinks a stag is the most regal creature under the moonlight. You insisted upon becoming a dog, a large black dog, because you...well, you never really explained, but I think I know why. And Peter decided to become a rat, so that he could creep in and freeze the Whalloping Willow. He also has a strange fondness for small creatures.
And I simply watch and research and stand amazed that anyone would go to such lengths just to keep me company in my full-moon madness.
Of all of us, you like your form the best, I guess. You're always transforming when we're in our bedroom. Then you leap up into my bed, and snuggle down practically in my lap. And you look up at me with those melting Sirius-eyes and I just go to pieces.
In dog form, you say a world of things to me, and I think I'm beginning to understand them.
I think you love me, Sirius. I think you love me.
Am I right?