Characters: Sirius and Remus
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I just like to play with them.
Prompt: October 1st - a picture of a bushel of apples
Notes: Written for scarvesnhats Fourth year or so.
“What is it you think of when you bite into an apple?”
Sirius chews for a moment before answering. “What do you mean?” He raises his hand and catches a piece of falling fruit and pops in back into his mouth. Taking another bite, he closes his eyes and turns his back on a particularly cold wind whirling down the path.
“Your face, the one you make when you eat them,” Remus motions towards the bushels of apples on the bench outside of the kitchens. “I’ve only ever seen you make it when you bite into an apple. I’m curious, what are you thinking of?”
“Watching me while I eat, eh, Moony?” Sirius turns and hands Remus the half eaten apple and smiles at the blush rising on the other boy’s face.
“I know what you mean. Take a bite and I’ll tell you. They’re delicious this year.”
Remus bring it up to his mouth, his insides quivering as he stares down at the jagged red edges around the white, creamy middle. Sirius had his mouth on this. He wants me to put my mouth where his just was. He takes a bite and stops, his gloved hand coming up to catch the juice as it runs down his chin. The flavor of the apple explodes in his mouth, and he’s swept instantly back to childhood and the memories of pumpkins and pies his mother allowed him to help bake. “Oh. That’s good. So good.”
“See? I told you. The first time I ate an apple raw was here at Hogwarts three years ago. James lobbed one at my head and I caught it, and only to you right now will I admit – if you promise not to tell anyone – I had no idea what it was.” Shaking his head at the offered apple, he pulls his scarf up over his ears. “No thanks mate. You finish it. I filched others.”
They walk in silence for a moment, both listening to the faint swish of their progress down the gold covered path. More gold rains gently down upon them from above and Sirius smiles and nicks a leaf from the back of Remus’ scarf. He twirls the stem in his fingers for a moment before tucking it into his pocket. “I’ve eaten apples before, mind, in pies and sauces and stuffing and such, but I had never given much thought to where all those things came from…you know, before. So when James told me to lob his apple back, I stood there for a moment with a millions thoughts running through my head, more then likely looking like a complete wanker before I picked it up and took a bite.
“See, eating with your fingers was not allowed in the House of Black. There were never any sticky faces from apples, oranges or candy in my house when we were growing up. Eating with your fingers was for Mudbloods or Muggles. We were above them all. Our meals were formal affairs, with silver and china, candlelight and impeccable manners.”
Sirius stops for a moment and turns towards the other boy, both hands shoved deep into the pockets of his heavy black robes. His dark eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes look haunted. Remus doesn’t know what to do, so he looks up at Sirius and takes a huge bite of the apple. The crunch is so loud it startles birds from the branches above them. They take flight, squawking their displeasure and it replaces the frown on Sirius’ face with a smile as he watches them fly away into the overcast sky. He waves his hand as if sweeping his memories away.
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. But apples have always stood for freedom for me, independence from Toujours Pur. That’s probably why I look that way,” he takes the apple from Remus’ hand and finishes the last bite. Sirius ends any ideas of continuing their conversation when he catches Remus off guard and pushes down into a pile of red and gold leaves. A smile grows on his face as Remus stands and starts to stalk him.
What will it be? A push into wet leaves? Into the lake? A cold, slimy half eaten apple down the back of his shirt? One of the things Sirius loves about Remus is his ability to retaliate when Sirius least expects it.
Keeps him on his toes, his werewolf does.