Pad feet… Padfoot!

Summary:

“You’re joking.” The boys say nothing, just continue to smile awkwardly at the werewolf. Remus’ own smile fades. “You’re not joking.”

“This could help you.” Sirius shrugs, smiling tightly at the taller boy.

“This could get you lot killed!!!” Remus bellows.

Aka. The Marauders have become animagi over the summer. Remus is not taking it well.

You can read it on AO3

A/N: the lovely@larrythepotato agreed to write a fic with me and this is our child! Let us know what you think!

The Marauders as conversations between me and my friends Pt.1

James: how do you know if you have a crush on someone?

Remus: when you feel comfortable with this person, but they make you have these weird feelings in your stomach?

Sirius: when you look at them, you just think “wow”. At least that’s what it is for me with a certain person

Are you a corduroy-doc-marten-remus-lupin-bisexual or a leather-jacket-doc-marten-sirius-black-bisexual?

Y/n : I think Remus has an unhealthy obsession towards chocolate

Remus : I am not obsessed with it!

Sirius : Did you forget when James shit on his pants back in first year because of you!?

Remus : I just want to buy your chocolate!

Sirius : IT DID NOT LOOK LIKE THAT!

Y/n : What happened?

Sirius : THIS HAPPENED!!

Chapter One: Calholme

masterlist!

series masterlist!

series summary: Remus was fine being alone until a mysterious and loud man crashes his motorbike into Remus’s life.

a/n: hi!!! i have a series!!! i’ve got a couple of series and chapter stories in my drafts, but i’ve never really had the courage to post them. i have put so much into this story, though, and i really hope you all like it :) leave me some feedback! i’ll probably post more once i know that its not a complete and utter flop. also, i’ve posted it on my ao3 so you can go read it over there too <33 

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It was a drowsy, subdued place, in Remus’ opinion, every moment of the year except for spring. Where he grew up, and where he currently resided, the entire town took a green glowing hue for the season. It was cold in the mornings, so when Remus went outside to spread chicken seed on the dewy grass, he put on a sweater. It warmed up as the sun rose, and from the time it took the sun to travel from the horizon to the middle of the sky, Remus was comfortable in a t-shirt and loose-fitting jeans. When the sun was at its peak, Remus might start to sweat through his shirt, maybe going as far as to change into shorts if he was outside, which he usually was. He couldn’t stand to be inside during spring.

The gravel driveway that led to a dirt road was sprouting an abundance of weeds and weeds that looked like flowers. The trees captured light, glowing, instead of the way they seemed to absorb and trap light in winter. Remus’s backyard was a large forest, and Remus had never taken the time to check where his property line ended, so as far as he was concerned, the entire forest was his. If you went deep enough in any direction, you would come to a clearing where the knee-high grass dove into some grass that only tickled your ankles. After the ankle grass, there was an unnaturally blue and unnaturally large lake. Remus’ mom had told him that the lake was so blue and so large because it was natural, that no person could ever make something so beautiful, and Remus found himself agreeing as he got older.

With his mother and father gone to live somewhere where it was spring weather all the time, living on a vast farm with no animals and a huge lawnmower that his father comfortably sat on every weekend to trim the fields, Remus now lived in his slightly renovated childhood home. It was only slightly renovated because it was a great deal messier and almost every surface was covered in coffee or tea stains and a book. Remus also got a television that he rarely used and turned his old bedroom into some sort of reading room/ garden. So, slightly renovated.

Past the gravel driveway littered with weeds and imposter weeds, past the dirt road that served as a crossing and sometimes rest area for the wild animals in the area, was the more populated town. Calholme had two public libraries; three hardware stores, one of which sold exclusively fishing supplies; a psychic who did palm readings and sold handmade jewelry and was rumored to have built the house she did aforementioned things in herself; three gas stations, one on each side of the outskirts of town, and one right in the center; two banks, one of which was relatively new that not many people frequented due to either a lack of trust for banks or simply because it was new; a multitude of fruits and vegetables stands with products grown in the area, delis in which the products ate the grass not 20 miles away, and bakeries that sent a sweet aroma into the air; a record shop that doubled as a coffee shop, candy store, and sometimes a furniture store when the records weren’t selling too well; a car repair shop called Matt Mocks’s garage that also repaired tractors and other broken farm equipment, and if the right guy was in that day, you could get your television repaired, too; and any other storefront that the simple people of Calholme thought they needed. They were quite resourceful in that sense.

So, down one end of the road was Calholme, and down the other were a few scattered cottages and large farmhouses, and even further down was a paved road that brought Sirius Black into town.

—

Remus had opened the window in his kitchen and stood in front of it as he waited for his tea to steep. It was that wonderfully chilly morning, so he shivered a little as the cold air clipped his crooked nose and sharp chin. He wrapped his long arms around his body to give some sort of comfort but found his lack of sustainable body fat and bony arms were more of a hindrance than not. Sighing and turning away from the window, he retrieved a cardigan that was draped over the couch, shaking off some loose crumbs before putting it on and returning to the window. He passed the sink on the way, a large white ceramic hole in the counter that looked more like a tub than a sink, and filled up a cup of water for the plants on the window sill. The house was in disarray, as usual, but Remus kept his plants alive. Most of the ones on the sill were herbs that he cooked with, with one or two flowers mingled in. If he kept the window open all day during this time of year, butterflies would come to the flowers and find themselves fluttering around the kitchen until they could find the window again. Occasionally, they just make themselves at home.

Window plants watered, arms covered and no longer shivering, tea fully steeped and mixed with the right amount of milk and honey, Remus stood in front of the window again. He could hear his chickens clucking by the other side of the house, and the rustle of the trees, the faint hum of a tractor miles off as people started their day. Then, he heard the roar of a failing engine. Not long after that, he heard the harsh sounds of metal scraping and a yelp of surprise that soon turned into groans of pain.

Remus ran to the door, tripping over his discarded rainboots, then running his shin into a coffee table, then shouldering the wall before falling on his face after tripping on some more shoes. When he finally got to the door, the chickens were louder, and so was the groaning.

His driveway wasn’t too long, but it was still long enough and curved enough so that the house couldn’t be seen from the road. The gravel crunched under his feet, eyes surveying the weeds, hands warmed by the mug he had forgotten to put down and somehow, miraculously, had not dropped on his way out.

There was a lump that may have been a human body or may have been a Greek god that had fallen down to the earth. Besides this was a discarded and seriously fucked up motorbike. A few feet away was a duffel bag with its contents spilled out onto his driveway. Telling from the skid marks, Remus guessed that this Greek god had lost his footing, or maybe hadn’t seen a pothole, and veered into his driveway for somewhat of an easier crash than what would have been in the woods. The marks also told Remus that the driver was coming into town.

“Are you alright?” Remus tried, taking the groans as a sign of life and creeping closer to the body.

“Oh, fuck,” they groaned, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Do you need help?” Remus knew it was a stupid question, one with the answer right in front of his face, as they began to writhe around the ground and get their wits about them.

Remus moved over to the scattered possessions, setting down his mug and gathering the various items back into the duffel. He ignored the magazine with David Bowie on the cover, ignored the criminally small shirt that had tears in the collar and Remus knew would make the Greek god look even more godlike, ignored the eyeliner pencil, and politely folded things when necessary before putting them away.

“Where the fuck am I?” the body had moved into a sitting position, feet on the ground and legs bent at the knees. There were rips in his black jeans, blood seeping into the denim, and a tattered hole in the sleeve of his leather jacket that also left red dripping onto the gravel. His face wasn’t too scuffed, just some road rash on his cheekbone and jaw. Greek god confirmed. Fallen from heaven, straight from Olympius, carved by the hands of Zeus himself.

He was strikingly pale, which made his eyes and hair striking as well. His eyes were a deep blue, blue like Remus’ lake, and his black hair was long and cut into a choppy sort of shag with lots of layers. He looked disheveled, obviously, because he was just in an awful motorbike accident, and Remus was staring at him.

“Just outside of Calholme,” Remus almost called him ‘sir’, despite the fact that he hadn’t called anyone but his teachers and his father 'sir’, and this boy was obviously close to Remus’ age. But the boy had a commanding presence, one that made people want to call him 'sir’, and tremble with nerves as they did so.

Shuffling a bit, still sat down, he surveyed the damage. No longer groaning nor writhing, he was somehow even more attractive. His brows were furrowed-in pain, concentration, just pure Greek god sternness? Remus could not tell- as he pulled at the new holes in his jeans. He didn’t wince, but he did scowl, and his fingertips ran through his blood for a moment before sighing. He twisted to look at his arm, and he winced then, but only because of his beloved jacket.

“Motherfucker,” he mumbled, taking care to slip off the arm of the jacket and pinch the torn edges together as if they would magically stitch together.

Remus realized he was still holding the boy’s duffel, so he dropped it gently on the gravel between them.

He cast his eyes up to look at Remus for the first time. “Thanks,” he said softly, pulling off his entire jacket now.

It was cold, and Remus was wrapped tightly in his cardigan, and this boy was bleeding, his motorbike dented and silent even though he had never taken the keys out of the ignition.

“Can you walk?” Remus asked, surprising himself with the nervous tremble in his voice. Remus didn’t talk much during the day, besides to his chickens and the lake and the flowers and the butterflies, and occasionally to the stray cat that would make the long trek from the neighboring properties. This boy was a little different than talking to those things.

He struggled to his feet, easing gently on his knees and not putting his scraped hands on the gravel. He bent his legs, only grimacing a little, and said, “Yeah.”

“Do you want to come inside? It’s warmer.”

The boy craned his neck, looking at the heavily forested area around him, his bike, and Remus. He looked at Remus a little longer than these other things and nodded briskly.

Remus grabbed his mug and turned to walk up the driveway, listening to the crunch of the boy’s footsteps behind him. They were strong and sure, despite the trail of blood he was leaving.

“This your house?” The boy said from a few paces behind Remus once they got close enough to see it. He sounded neutral, not apprehensive or suspicious of Remus, but not grateful or relieved. Remus found it a little unnerving, especially with his back to him. He shivered and turned to face him, nodding and opening the front door.

headcanon that after Remus died James, Lily and Sirius didn’t know he’d died him until Harry used the recreation stone and Remus appeard with them

Marlene Mckinnon came back to school in 3rd year with her hair cut up to her ears and a slit in her eyebrows. Remus quite clearly thought she was the coolest person in the entire school.

Peter had gaped for 5 minutes when he saw her before tightlipped giving her a compliment. James being James had hyped her up dramatically before forcing her into a hug. Remus himself had been stumbling over words in fascination but in a positive way, and Sirius. Sirius hadn’t said a word. He’d stared at her before nodding in a greeting. Remus had known something like that would happen. He knew how Sirius was raised, but he would teach Sirius it was okay. He would do that.

So when Sirius later climbed into Remus bed, Remus was ready for any assumtions or questions or mean comments he could say. What he wasn’t prepeard for was Sirius nervously looking at Remus, fumbling with his hands, and quietly mutter “I didn’t know girls could have short hair”

“Well they can” Remus replied softly moving closer to Sirius. Sirius had only nodded. It was quiet again for quite a few minutes

“Does that mean boys can have long hair too?” He found Remus eyes his own glistening

“Of course they can Sirius” he fell quiet again.

“Remus”

“yes?”

“I don’t think i know anything about how the world works. Everything i’ve ever been taught is wrong and I don’t-. The world is so diffrent from what i thought. But i wanna know. I wanna know everything” Sirius was fumbling more with his hands now.

“I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything i know about the world and we’ll find out more of it. We’ll discover all the secrets if the world yeah?” Somehow Remus hand had found it’s way to Sirius’s to stop them from fumbling. Whatever reason his heart was doing flips was way beyond him and nothing he needed to think about.

“yeah. Let’s do that” Sirius smiled softly a slightl blush coloring his cheeks “I think… I think i wanna grow my hair out. But i don’t know it’s just a stupid thought i had and maybe i shouldn’t i would probabaly look dumb but Marlene looks so cool and she taught me how to braid last term and-”

“Sirius, you would look awesome. I think you should do it, and if you don’t like it you can just cut it.”

“yeah?” Sirius looked so hopeful Remus could feel his own heart skipping a beat for him.

“Yeah. Very punk rock” at that the other boy lit up “you should tell Marlene you think her hair is cool. She doesn’t act like it but i know she cares about your opinion”

“Yeah i’ll do that i-” Sirius eyes drifted to their interviened hands “i will yes. We should- I mean I should probabaly sleep now though I’ll see you tomorrow Moony” Sirius face appeard to grow redder

“Moony?” Remus giggled. Oh he was tired.

“Yeah i made up during the summer. Goodnight”

Remus: James as my best friend-

Sirius: Excuse me? I thought I was your best friend?

Remus:…you’re my boyfriend?

Sirius: and? I’m your best friend too

James: Boyfriend wasn’t enough? You have to have all titles?

Remus: Shh you two. Sirius you’re the love of my life, James is my best friend

Sirius: Then what’s Peter?

Remus without hesitation: Pete’s my sidepiece

Peter:*Winks*

Sirius: *shock. Betrayl*

Remus: I’m really observent

Sirius: no you’re not

Remus: How would you know?

James: Sirius spends all his woken time staring at you he sees when you notice things

Remus: Why would he be staring at me

Sirius: You’re beautiful Remus i could admire you forever

Remus: That’s very sweet and friendly of you Sirius

*large sigh*

The whomping willow liked Remus so much. It would hurt anything that came near if they didn’t hit the knot.

Unless, they were Remus Lupin. The whomping willow never even tried to hurt Remus. It stopped moving when he was there.

The whomping willow was the original Remus protecter