nekare

Title: Kidnapping
Words: 1456
Rating: G
Somewhat late and pretty much hated by me, since I suck hard at dialogue. Nevertheless, I like the original idea. A mix of promt 14 and 18 in scarvesnhats. Hope you like it! (feedback will be molested)

His glove had been gone for a week before Remus noticed, and as he asked people whether they had seen a gray glove around with his left hand in a fashionably blue color he couldn’t help but wonder how could his glove vanish while in the bottom of a school trunk filled with broken quills, more books than what he could count and a few dungbombs and prank souvenirs that marked him as a Marauder.

In retrospect, Remus knew he should have seen it coming, for when a ransom note was delivered to him by a very nervous looking first year, Sirius was nowhere in sight. The note said: ‘Bring two of your new Honeyduke’s chocolate bars to the sixth floor corridor just outside charms or you won’t ever see your glove again. Do not try and tell the Head Boy or your back will be covered in boils. I mean it!’

Remus spent an hour in detention with Flitwick after having laughed too hard on his class, ransom note still in his hand and tears of laughter in his eyes.

Of course he confronted Sirius about it (after he had managed to contain his laughter, of course, wouldn’t want to sound entertained at the idea), and even when he had denied it all (big surprise), he had seen the way Sirius couldn’t stop fidgeting and looking everywhere but his eyes.

Remus decided to play dirty, as no one messes with a werewolf’s chocolate (and mittens) and tells the story. So he stole Sirius’ favorite jumper, now too short for him but almost right to Remus, with two holes right next to the hem and the red wool fading almost to pink, worn and Sirius’ scented after years of sleeping in it when too cold. And Remus found an excuse to be surrounded by the scent he secretly yarned for (although that word sounded to girly for his taste) when he wore the jumper all the time for a week, saying he needed something to warm himself without his kidnapped glove.

Sirius said nothing of it, but Remus could see the way he was either trying to repress laughter or a frown, meaning that the outcome wasn’t exactly what he had in mind when he first tried to be funny and be fed free chocolate. And Remus continued to wear the jumper and earned weird glances from girls everywhere at Hogwarts, somewhat confused of what exactly the boys were doing now with the clothes exchange (and secretly they all wanted Sirius to try Peter’s clothes, as they would fit him really, really tight).

A week later of Sirius’ jumper theft, when a new ransom note was delivered to Remus accompanied by a triangular gray piece of wool, cut straight from Remus’ glove; Remus decided he had had enough of the game. Peter had been with him when the third year with gave him the note, mildly terrified and jumping a little with every step he gave, obviously hexed recently; and when Peter figured out the whole thing and laughed his head off (something Remus didn’t appreciated very much), he advised him to go to the dropping point and bring the guilty boy to justice and Remus decided not to let him see any muggle movies again; but went there at the time the note indicated nevertheless.

As he stood in the hallway he couldn’t help but feel stupid and gullible, but he reassured himself with the fact that he hadn’t brought any chocolate (a small act of defiance, a memorial for his now murdered glove). Arms crossed against his chest, he waited in silence, blunt fingernails scraping the fabric of Sirius’ jumper in a nervous tic he had no control over.

“I like the way you look in my jumper,” Said Sirius’ voice from behind a tapestry, cool and cheerful and so very Sirius that Remus wanted no more but to wipe the grin that came with it off his face.

“Where’s my glove?” Remus asked trying not to show anger, and to not notice how very much like a muggle movie this all sounded.

“Where’s my chocolate?” Sirius smirked as he went out and stood next to Remus, imitating his posture but with a smirk on his face.

And that was too much for Remus. “You bastard, Give it back!” He said as he poked Sirius in the chest with a single finger and restrained himself to do some actual damage.

Another smirk. “Why?”

“You had no right to steal it! You know I don’t have the money to buy a new pair and now I’ll have to go around all bloody winter with a hole in my left glove, and it’s your entire fault!”

Sirius waved it off. “I’ll buy you a new pair. Jeez, don’t get your knickers in a twist, Moony.” He finished with a snort.

And suddenly Remus was so very angered, at the fact that Sirius didn’t really understand, for all he said he did and that he could just be so laid back about the whole thing. “That’s the problem Sirius, that you can always get a new pair, that everything is always just a game for you and that you don’t care at all that those were the gloves of my father and therefore are irreplaceable.” He said in one long breath, surprising even himself at his sudden bluntness.

Sirius paled visibly, and Remus turned to look at the stone walls because talking of his late father still brought a dull pain to his gut, even when it already had been a year since the funeral. “Moony…I didn’t know they were your father’s, I really didn’t, I-” Remus shacked his head to stop the flow of the whispered words. There was a moment of silence, a requiem in telepathy for the still new void in Remus’ life.

“And it wasn’t a game. Not exactly anyway.” Sirius wouldn’t look at him as he spoke the words, hands in his pockets and looking nervous.

“Then what was it?” Remus’ tone was tired as he leaned back against the wall, anger gone but curiosity not there yet.

“I was trying to get your attention,” Said Sirius so fast he barely caught the meaning, and when he saw the unmistakable blush on Sirius’ pale skin his interest was peaked.

“You have everyone’s attention, Padfoot,” He said with a slight frown and narrowed eyes.

Sirius blushed even harder, and stared unblinkingly at a spot on the wall opposite to him as it held the answers to all things living. “I want your attention.” And as Sirius swallowed hard and closed his eyes as if a heavy burden had just been lifted off his shoulders Remus understood quite clearly what the other boy meant.

“Oh,” was his smart reply.

Sirius managed to chuckle a little, and then stayed silent, waiting for a slightly better reply (or less lame, in any way). Looking fidgety but trying to maintain his trademark coolness, blowing dark hair out of his eyes. Remus knew him better than that, though, and he knew he probably had sweaty palms inside his pockets. Served him right, the fucker.

“Don’t be silly Padfoot, of course you have my attention.” He blushed a little himself, and wanted to kick himself for that; His voice refusing to go out in the confident tone he had willed to do.

“I do?” Said Sirius as he turned to him with a hopeful glint in his eyes and looking the more nervous Remus had ever seen him.

“Why else would I have worn this stupid jumper for over a week?”

“Good point.” A pause. “The ransom has changed, now I want a kiss.” And there was the Sirius he had always known, way too bold for his own good. He got his wish, though, and as they kissed he forgot he was a prefect and shouldn’t really be snogging on empty hallways in the middle of the day, and he could only think of that this was much better than the smelly sweater he had once thought a decent substitute.

“Now, where’s my glove?” Remus asked a bit short of breathe a while later, both flushed but with matching grins on their faces.

“James has it. Under his mattress, I believe; no sense of mystery, that boy.” Sirius said as he dragged Remus by the hand to the dorm, claiming he still wanted the chocolate he had asked for.

“Wait a minute, James knew?” A nod. “And he didn’t tell me?” Another one.

“He thought it was stupid, but agreed when I told him I couldn’t exactly buy you flowers, now could I?”

“So he helped you kidnap my glove and hold it hostage?”

“Yep. Hey, stop laughing!”