Chapter Text
Sirius spun in a slow circle, checking his apartment one last time. Nothing was out of place, no electrical cords were plugged in, and his blinds were turned at just the slightest, nearly-closed angle. The three potted plants James’s parents had given him when he moved in were huddled in the corner’s small pocket of light. He hadn’t bothered to move the orchid—by now he was convinced it was long dead.
The only thing that looked out of place was the backpack. It was big, and it sat at a weird position, leaning against his TV console table. It was also orange, which was unfortunate. However, the orange mass, somehow straddling the line between accidentally burnt and aggressively neon, was fitting. It looked dumb—Sirius decided—because it was dumb. It had been on sale and the right size, and despite having plenty of Potter-family money to spend, Sirius did not want to waste too much of it on something as stupid as this.
It was time to go.
Sirius grabbed the pack by the arm strap, then cursed and set it down. He moved his hand instead to the haul loop at the top of the back, then lifted with his knees. The salespeople at the gear store told him about the proper way to do everything, because accessing the outdoors must be gatekept by the barefoot granola-eaters. Nonetheless, Sirius hoisted the pack first to his thigh and second to his back, clicked the hip belt after a few tries, and opened the front door. It was early enough that his neighbors wouldn’t witness him leave. That fact didn’t stop him from watching himself in his mind’s eye, waddling down the steps in his bulky hiking shoes, with an overgrown tangerine smacking against his side with every other step.
Arriving at his car was a relief. He threw the pack inside, buckled himself in, and drove away, aiming for the college campus he was almost done with.
Five and a half years of undergraduate education, while working part-time first at his parents’ firm and second at the Potters’ hotel, with a few major changes and two years off in the middle, had gone by fast. On most days, at least. Sometimes Sirius mulled over the fact that the time itself felt short, but the changes he had gone through felt long. He wasn’t the same person anymore since he started college. And he was grateful for that fact.
He would be graduating soon, but not before this penultimate task. One of his environmental education classes had an extra requirement. Instead of spending his spring break in Italy (and France, and Greece, and first-class flights, and five-star hotels) with the Potters, he would be backpacking. Without access to any amenities or creature-comforts.
Now, Sirius wasn’t froufrou. He could get by without WiFi, and fancy food, and even a shower if need be. Hell, he lived on the street for a solid forty-eight hours before James found out his parents had thrown him out. But the whiplash of canceling a flight (and all the other in-between flights) to go backpacking in the woods was hard to ignore.
He wasn’t going to delay his graduation any more, though. In four days’ time he would be home again. Until then, though, he’d be sleeping on the ground and walking around the national forest with his classmates and some TA he had never met. Sirius’s professor probably knew how terrible the trip would be, since he himself was not going. To be fair, the man was approximately two hundred years old, but still. It was the principle of the thing.
The stereo crackled to life when Sirius skipped forward a few tracks on the CD. After a few energetic guitar strums, the optimistic voice rang out.
What a beautiful face I have found in this place that is circling all round the sun.
Sirius continued to drive. The trip was four days, but only three nights. And that was only one night, repeated a few times. One night is quick, he’ll sleep through most of it anyway.
And one day we will die, and our ashes will fly from the aeroplane over the sea.
Sirius frowned. He started thinking about the Potters. At this time they should be arriving in Rome. No, he corrected, at this time they should be getting served the perfect carbonara that Effie always bemoans over—the dish had ruined all other pasta for her, of course. Yes, they’ll be pampered together in Italy, while Sirius is driving through a foggy morning and preparing to walk around in the dirt.
These thoughts made him miss the next line that he usually loves. While he thought about Italy, the singer’s voice rang out, unheard.
But for now we are young, let us lay in the sun, and count every beautiful thing we can see.
Absentmindedly, he switched off the stereo.
The fog thickened as he drove into campus. Wisps and clumps of it floated by, obscuring a concrete jungle and asphalt landscape. The weedy plants growing from the median seemed purposeful in contrast. Sirius navigated through a roundabout, a lane change, and soon pulled into the designated parking structure. It was one of two optional class rendezvous points, and it could, in rare fashion, house their cars for free during the university’s break. On the second level of the garage, Sirius saw a red truck, and parked two spots away from it. Sirius braced himself, then got out.
He walked slowly around the back of the red pickup, then stopped. A man was there, crouched over a large blue cooler, counting under his breath. Then he stood, turned around, and smiled, and Sirius bit his cheek in surprise.
“Hi.” The man grinned. His face was tan, and his teeth were white. “You must be Sirius.”
“I am.” Sirius nodded. “Are you the TA?” he ventured.
The man smiled again, this time without teeth. His lips were pink. “Cool, cool, cool. Yeah, that’s me. I’m Remus. Remus Lupin.”
He had a nervous sort of energy about him, not as if he was nervous to be here, but as if he just had too much energy to fit into his few actions. Sirius noticed his left leg now bouncing up and down from where he had placed it on the truck’s step.
“And I’m not like, your TA,” Remus continued. “But I am a grad student in Professor Binn’s department, if not his lab. He needed someone to lead a trip over the break and I jumped at the opportunity. I love backpacking.”
Sirius tried to keep his face neutral, but felt his eyebrows begin to crease. “Nice.”
“I guess I’m sort of grading you though, but it’s mostly on completion of the trip. There’s a few assignments, but—” at this, Remus broke off into a comical face of sheepish yikes that Sirius gave an amused huff at. “We can talk about the ‘assignments’ when we get to them,” Remus finished, using air quotes.
Sirius got the impression that the assignments would not be heavily enforced. That was fine with him. “Am I the only one here?”
Remus looked around, first swiveling in place and then climbing onto the side of the truck to look over it. “That’s your car?” he pointed.
Sirius nodded. “I can park it here, right?”
“Yep. We’ll take mine.”
Sirius checked the time on his phone. “So everyone else is meeting at the other spot then?” he asked.
The parking garage echoed his question back to him.
“What?” Remus asked, peering out from the backseat of the truck where he had just climbed in with the cooler. “Sorry. You can grab your stuff from your car and put it either here or in the bed.”
Sirius went to his own car. He suppressed the urge to drive away by reminding himself of how close he was to graduation. The non-TA TA would probably find it rude, too.
Grabbing the backpack by its haul loop, Sirius removed it, then shut and locked his car. He tried to open the back right door of the truck without success.
“Oh sorry,” Remus’s voice called out from the driver’s seat. “That door doesn’t work. You can go from this side.”
Sirius blinked, then threw the pack in the bed of the truck instead. He climbed into the passenger seat and swung the—working—door shut.
“All right, let’s do this.” Remus turned the key and the truck roared to life.
It had looked big from the outside, but here, seated right next to Remus, Sirius thought the red truck seemed small. The word “endearing” came to mind briefly, but Sirius pushed it aside with contempt.
Remus—this strangely energetic non-TA TA—seemed content with silence as he drove, for which Sirius was grateful. He was looking forward to being joined by his other classmates; this whole “being alone with the TA” thing felt weird. It didn’t matter that Sirius didn’t exactly know his other classmates either. They would still be a buffer.
Sirius frowned, thinking about his last time in a professor’s office hours. Minnie—as she allowed him to call her outside of the lecture hall—had said something about the importance of building community. More accurately, though, her words were, “You haven’t been trying to make friends.” This took him by surprise, but of course she steamrolled over his protests. “It doesn’t matter if you are extraverted or not, a teacher needs to be sociable. I’ve seen you take charge of a classroom, Sirius. Being a student in one is no different.”
It was, though. Sirius could lead a classroom of elementary schoolers without a problem. He knew what to say, what to do, and how to interact with everybody. It was always the in-between bits that he hated. During his first student teaching placement, where he was asked to mostly observe, his classroom teacher had asked him if he was sure he was on the right career path. Sirius had been standing at the back of the room awkwardly, not sure of when he was supposed to talk to the kids and help them with their work or when he was supposed to be a fly on the wall, taking notes on how the real teacher did her job. It wasn’t until she gave him the chance to be the lead teacher for a day that he finally got to shine. “If I saw this confidence on day one,” she had said afterwards, smiling, “I would have made you teach weeks ago. You’ll make a great teacher someday.”
Sirius enjoyed the praise, but the memory unnerved him. He had never been good at navigating loosely defined spaces. How was he supposed to make friends with his university classmates that were a few years younger than him, and still partying their lives away the way he did at eighteen? They made him feel old, and yet they probably saw him as about their age, but in a quiet, loner kind of way. He was more comfortable giving a class presentation, no matter how many people were staring at him while he did it. At least while presenting he was expected to be the entertainer. It was prescribed, and therefore conquerable.
He shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. How was he supposed to navigate this space, now? Here he was, sitting in the front seat with a non-TA TA he just met, about to backpack in the woods. He’d probably revert to outsider status once his classmates were here. Some of the women would probably try to flirt with TA Lupin. He was cute, Sirius allowed, disappointed.
Somehow, Sirius’s self-pity occupied his mind all the way until Remus was turning on the radio, pulling off the highway onto a mountain-bound winding road. Sirius looked around—they had long passed the proffered satellite campus meeting spot.
“Wait, where’s everyone else?” Sirius asked. “I thought we were picking other people up?”
“What?” Remus asked. He turned the radio off. “Sorry, I can’t hear you and the radio at once.”
“Oh,” Sirius started. “I get that, I’m kind of deaf with headphones in. I was—”
“Congratulations,” Remus interrupted. “Because I’m ‘kind of deaf’ all the fucking time.”
The road steepened, and Remus downshifted. Sirius realized for the first time that the truck was a stick shift.
“I’m sorry,” Sirius said, meaning it. “Wow, fuck. That was a really shitty thing for me to say.”
Remus clenched and unclenched his jaw. “I’m used to it. I’m not Deaf. But I can’t distinguish and piece apart multiple sounds at once.”
Sirius nodded. He turned away to look out the window, swallowing. This was not going well.
“What was your original question?” Remus asked.
Sirius blinked at him.
“When the radio was still on,” Remus clarified. “And you can stop over-enunciating your words. I hear you fine now.”
“Sorry, yeah. Where is everyone else?”
Remus cocked his head. “What do you mean?”
“The other people doing this trip? For the class where it was assigned?”
“Oh.” Remus nodded. “The other three are meeting us at the trailhead.”
Sirius froze, eyebrows glued skywards. “Three?”
“Binns said most people chose the essay instead, and that there were only a few students RSVP’ed for today. You were the only one who wanted to meet on campus. An undergrad from Binns’ lab is driving the others.”
Sirius dropped his shoulders in disbelief. He then realized he was in someone else’s car, already miles away from home. How had he not known there was an essay option instead? He could be in Italy right now. He could completely forget about this course until the first-class flight back to the states when he would cram the entire essay into one draft. Instead, he was here.
***
Sirius sat still as Remus put the truck in park. They were at the trailhead, and had spent the last mile in—surprisingly—comfortable silence. Remus had moved on after Sirius’s apology, so Sirius tried to as well. The pot-holed dirt road meant they were bumping along, and Sirius surprised himself by finding it somehow fun. It wasn’t that the jolting on his spine was comfortable. Rather, it seemed like the first time he had been on a non-smooth road in years, in more ways than one. Adventurous. He played a game with himself, watching Remus’s hands turn the steering wheel left and right, dodging the bumps, and squeezing the wheel when he decided to just take an unavoidable bump head on. Sirius had to try not to laugh at the scene, something about it was just nice.
Now Remus was getting out of the car. Sirius opened his door and followed. The fog had all-but lifted, and there were only a few other parked cars in the trailhead’s dirt lot.
“All right,” Remus said. “You have all of your gear except trekking poles, right?”
Sirius nodded. The gear list had been long, with plenty of options for loaning unowned items from the university. Since he could afford it, Sirius bought most things himself anyway. Professor Binns had said there were a few things they had plenty of already, so Sirius decided to loan trekking poles instead.
Remus handed him two poles, then laughed in amusement and took one away. “Sorry, I always forget they feel unfamiliar to people who didn’t grow up doing this kind of stuff.”
Sirius frowned. Remus showed him how to hold the pole and keep the wrist strap looped properly so that it “wouldn’t break his thumb if he tripped.” With that comforting advice, Sirius telescoped out the pole’s length.
Remus corrected him. “That’s the same mistake I made when I was a kid,” he said. “It feels like it should be that high, but you don’t want your elbow at anything higher than a ninety-degree angle. It’s there to help you walk, not to make you carry another extra thing up the mountain.”
Sirius bit his lip at the first comment and followed Remus’s advice. “You have lots of experience backpacking, then?”
“Yeah.” Remus grinned again. “Ever since I was little. I come from a long family of explorers, actually.”
“Oh,” Sirius said. “Nice.” Explorer was an interesting word for colonizer, he thought.
“Okay, let’s see you with your backpack on,” Remus prompted.
Sirius leaned his trekking poles against the side of the truck and reached in the bed for his orange pack. It looked as out of place as he now felt. He swung it on.
“Okay,” Remus appraised. Suddenly, he reached out and yanked the pack down, causing Sirius’s knees to buckle.
“Jesus!”
“Sorry. The weight should be on your hips, not your shoulders.”
Sirius scowled at him. In response, Remus reached out and grabbed the straps right on his hips and tugged them tight.
“Feel that?” he asked.
Sirius felt Remus hands burning against his torso, separated by the pack straps and his jacket and his shirt underneath and also the fact that—he had already pulled them away. “Yeah,” Sirius stuttered out, “weight on the hips.”
Remus nodded, then busied himself adjusting more of Sirius’s pack straps. “Okay, great.” Remus turned and walked around Sirius, admiring his handiwork. The nervous energy Sirius saw earlier seemed to return now. “God I’m so excited for this.” Remus turned back towards the truck, then pulled a giant dark green pack out. He deftly swung it on, adjusted a few straps, bounced on his heels a few times, then took it off.
Remus looked at his wristwatch, then fiddled with the hem of his shirt, uncovering then covering it again. “We’re good on time, the other car should be here in the next half hour or so.”
Sirius looked around. The dirt parking lot had plenty of open spaces. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad sign yet.
“So, Sirius.” Remus peered at him as if in judgment. “Do I need to go through your pack, or do you actually have everything you need?”
Sirius immediately thought of his underwear, and then tried not to blush. “I think I have everything?”
“Sleeping bag?”
Sirius nodded.
“One person tent?”
Another nod.
Remus continued through a list including sleeping pad, wool socks, rain jacket, snacks for today, and a hat.
“Where is your hat? It’s not sunny yet but you’ll want it soon.”
Sirius groaned. “I think it’s at the bottom.”
Remus’s eyes widened, then he nodded. “Sorry, but we should repack your stuff. It’s your first time backpacking. I bet your bag is super unbalanced. I hadn’t thought of that.”
Sirius groaned again, but swung the pack off his left arm. And then promptly got stuck. The weight of the pack tried to pull him down, and Sirius awkwardly leaned into the truck to stay upright instead.
Remus laughed. “You’ll want to loosen all your straps before taking it off every time. That’ll make it easier to put back on again too.” He chewed his cheek, still smiling, as if he was trying—not very hard—not to laugh at Sirius’s misery.
Sirius frowned at him and finally cut himself free by unclipping his hip belt. The orange pack met the dusty ground with a dull thud. Sirius picked it back up, and soon emptied its contents into the bed of Remus’s truck.
Remus directed the repacking effort. At one point Sirius stopped him and asked if he just wanted to do it himself, since Remus refused to be satisfied by the way he was cramming his sleeping bag into the bottom.
“No,” Remus said in surprise. “You’re learning how to do it. I’m okay with that meaning it’ll take extra time. Tell me if my advice needs to be more clear.”
Sirius, still wishing this was over, was slightly mollified. If nothing else, it was the same approach he would take if he were the teacher here.
“Is that your extra underwear?”
Sirius looked down at the ball of clothing he had tried to obscure. Remus was pointing at it. “Yes,” he allowed. “And an extra shirt, and athletic shorts.”
Remus nodded slowly. “What shirt are you wearing under your jacket?”
Sirius tried to ignore his discomfort and unzipped his jacket. Then he tried to mask his surprise when Remus reached out to touch the shirt, barely missing his skin underneath. Remus felt the material at the hem between his fingers.
“This is a good shirt,” Remus said. “I think you only need one. You’re welcome to leave this extra one in the truck. Some people like to put on a clean shirt at the end of the trip, for the drive home.”
Sirius thought about not being able to change out of his current shirt for four days, and then relented. “Okay.” He disentangled the shirt from the other clothes, revealing three pairs of short black synthetic boxer briefs and one pair of blue shorts. With already-red cheeks, Sirius stepped away to stow his extra shirt in the passenger seat.
“Sorry if I’m being too forward,” Remus started. “But do those shorts have a liner in them?”
“Um.”
“Like when you wear them normally, do you wear underwear too?”
Sirius gave up on trying to hide his blush, and decided it would be a new permanent fixture on his face. He would navigate life forever known as the man who would never recover from embarrassment. “Not usually, no.”
“Great!” Remus said. “This is up to you, but I’d recommend ditching one or two pairs of the extra underwear then.”
Sirius nodded, and slowly grabbed one pair—leaving two—and moved it up to join his shirt. Upon returning, Remus helped Sirius pack the rest of his stuff up, keeping snacks and sun protection accessible, and his rain jacket close. “If you’re going to need it,” Remus intoned, “you’re going to need it quickly.” He said the words with the air of an important quotation. Sirius’s pack also gained some kitchen equipment from Remus—a fuel canister and a small metal pot. Hiding his annoyance of the extra weight was difficult, but Sirius did his best.
“Okay, okay, okay. Cool, cool, cool.” Remus patted his pockets, spun around to look over the truck, and then promptly pulled his pants down.
Sirius jerked his head skyward, trying not to look.
“I like to hike in shorts,” Remus said. At this, Sirius finally glanced down cautiously, and saw that Remus had been wearing running shorts under his trail pants. They were quite short. Also, his legs were very muscular, and they were covered in a fine smattering of blondish hairs. As Remus bounced on his heels once more, Sirius watched Remus’s quads flex and unflex, and then he decided he should look away for the rest of the trip.
“I know it’s not what we told you to do,” Remus continued, now stowing his pants away in his pack. “Long pants really are the safest bet out here. But I get too hot in them, and we won’t be going off trail much. This basin is pretty light on snakes anyway.”
Sirius just nodded.
Remus pulled out a dark green bandana-like fabric and pulled it over his head to rest around his neck. He retrieved sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat from the car and put them on. Remus hefted his pack once more and turned to face Sirius. Somehow he looked good in it—all of it. Remus looked perfectly comfortable with his bulky pack and unwieldy trekking poles and the sun protection that should look dorky but didn’t.
Sirius knew it looked dorky on himself. That was why he eventually opted for a baseball hat instead of the full-brimmed ones at the gear store. At least his hair could protect a lot of his neck from sunburn.
“All right, cool cool cool.” Remus hoisted himself up to sit on the bed of the truck, and loosened his pack straps until his green pack’s weight sat on the metal bed. Sirius watched, considered the empty space next to him, and took a step further away instead.
Remus said his name.
Sirius looked at him.
“Do you have any backpacking concerns?”
Sirius blinked. “Nope.”
“Okay.” Remus broke their eye contact, to study the nearby trees casually. Sirius didn’t move. He felt like he was being challenged somehow. Remus eventually spoke again, with a little half-smile that Sirius zeroed in on. “Have you ever pooped in the woods?”
Sirius bit his cheek.
Remus reached behind himself and then brandished a large ziploc bag at Sirius. It had a few strips of duct tape holding it together, with one large rip in the plastic extending from a larger piece of tape. Inside was a small trowel. “This is called a shit kit.”
Sirius took a deep breath. All he had to do was write an essay. That was all he had to do.
“You’ll get the hang of it.” Remus opened the bag and pulled out a separate bag of toilet paper, and then a bottle of hand sanitizer. “The important thing is remembering the order of operations.”
“Okay,” Sirius said, finally speaking up. “This is… okay.” As he trailed off, Remus’s eyes brightened, focusing somewhere behind him. Sirius turned to see a Toyota RAV-4 driving their way. Thank god, he thought.
“That may be them,” Remus said, standing up from the truck bed. He had unclipped himself from his pack. “In this basin, we need to pack out our toilet paper. You can’t leave it here. But you don’t have to pack out any of the human waste.”
Sirius blinked again, not thinking about European vacations. “Okay.”
The RAV-4 circled into the dirt lot entrance, then navigated into one of many empty spots nearby.
Remus persisted. “It’s honestly better than at home. You can poop with a view.”
Sirius pretended not to hear. The doors to the RAV-4 were now swinging open.
“Remus!” A female voice sing-songed. “We’re here!”
The speaker was the driver. She had long brown hair that she brushed out of her face while swinging on a full red backpack. Sirius didn’t recognize her, so he assumed she must be the undergrad in Binns’ lab who isn’t in his class. As she walked over she grinned at Remus.
“You made it,” Remus said.
“Sure did.” She grinned back. She had very feminine features, and yet something else Sirius couldn’t place. She didn’t quite fit a one-dimensional sorority girl, although Sirius didn’t quite like the way she said Remus’s name.
“You’re Sirius, then.” She reached out a hand.
“Yes, nice to meet you.” Sirius shook her hand—she had a surprisingly firm grip. He also noticed the designs along her arm: detailed leaves and vines tattooed in black ink wound around her arm, forming bracelets and brackets.
“Marlene McKinnon,” she said simply, then turned her back to him. “Esme and Alice,” she said, pointing at the two women exiting the car, for Remus’s benefit. They were both familiar-looking to Sirius, but he had never spoken with them. Binns’ class was large, after all. And he wasn’t the most sociable.
Esme was Latina, with short black hair, and Alice was likely East Asian. Once they removed their packs from the car, carrying them in a slightly-awkward form, Marlene officiated introductions all around.
“It’s their first time backpacking too,” Marlene said, looking at Remus again.
Remus beamed. “Great.”
“I’m excited, I love nature,” Esme offered, then immediately blushed from attention. Sirius couldn’t help but feel a little fond of her for it.
“I’m excited too,” Alice said. “But I’ll be honest with you, I was not going to write that essay.” Alice laughed, unchecked, and Sirius felt himself follow. She had a good sort of energy to her, undoubtedly.
“Okay, cool. Well, this is great. I’m glad we’re all here.” Remus directed the group through a few checks of gear and relayed the same pieces of advice he had already given to Sirius. He had them all put on their packs, and then he walked around them, checking the weight of each backpack.
“I already made them ditch some extra gear,” Marlene offered.
“My poor mirror,” Esme murmured.
“Girl.” Alice cocked her head, smiling at her. “Don’t start.”
When Remus got to Sirius, he paused. After lifting his pack once, Remus just stood behind him, close. Sirius held his breath. Remus walked away.
“I have a bit of extra group gear,” Remus ventured. Sirius realized he was directing his statement at Marlene.
“I think,” Marlene said slowly. “That they’re good.” She cocked her head at the women. Alice was now rolling her shoulders back and forth slowly, trying to make the pack sit comfortably. Esme seemed transfixed between standing still, following Remus’s earlier directions, and letting herself remove the pack and sit on the ground.
“I think so too,” Remus answered.
“I can take more.” Marlene’s voice had a confident cockiness to it. She was brazen, in a way Sirius wasn’t yet sure if he liked.
“You’re good,” Remus said. Sirius watched him ponder the mesh bag and large first aid kit in his hands. He looked around the group. “Hey Sirius?”
Sirius bit his cheek harder than before, but took off his pack to accept the gear.
“All right, let’s do this,” Remus eventually said, for the second time that day.
Breathing out a slow sigh, Sirius looped his trekking poles over his wrists, straightened his back, and stepped away from the truck. He followed Remus through the parking lot until they came to a narrow trail. Remus turned once to smile at Sirius and the three women behind him, then began their ascent. Sirius realized he had all of the belongings he had access to for the next several days on his back. He thought briefly about the underwear and shirt now sitting in Remus’s truck, and then let them go. He would be fine. This would be fine.
***
Walking—uphill—with thirty pounds of backpack, two unwieldy chopsticks, sunglasses determined to slide down his nose, and an annoyingly-stubborn fly circling, was less than fine. In fact, it was completely asinine. Sirius was sweating, and tired, and trying not to make it look like he was sweaty and tired, even though Remus was in front of him. Every time Remus turned to look back, Sirius would start nose-breathing again as if this extra-weighted hike wasn’t absolutely kicking his ass. Not fine, not fine at all. Backpacking should be illegal. This is what Sirius was thinking about, simmering with anger and thoughts of Paris and baguette, when Remus suddenly stopped in front of him.
Remus unclipped his hip belt and deftly swung off his green pack.
“Thank god,” Sirius muttered, and struggled out of his own.
“What?” Remus asked, turning.
“Nothing.” Sirius dismissed him.
Remus’s face was still, but Sirius sensed his anger regardless.
“Sorry?” Sirius wondered if Remus often had to ask people to repeat things. Or how often they simply waved him off instead of actually repeating it, even if it wasn’t important or even meant to be heard. Sirius spoke again. “I said, ‘thank god.’”
Remus nodded, then knelt to open his pack.
Sirius looked behind him. The three women were visible but quite a distance away, having fallen behind over the last half mile or so. Marlene had taken the rear from the beginning, and Sirius could just make out her blue baseball cap behind Esme and Alice’s forms.
Speaking clearly but trying not to over-enunciate, Sirius spoke again. “That was a long hike in.”
Remus’s lips quirked, and Sirius’s eyes were drawn to them. “We’re not ‘in’ yet,” Remus said.
Sirius sat on a rock and pulled at the water bottle strapped to his pack. Instead of coming out of the holder, it just dragged the whole pack along the dirt trail. “How far are we?”
“Depends on how far we want to go,” Remus answered. “At the minimum, we’re halfway to the first viable camp spot. But I thought right here would be a good space for a quick break. It’s beautiful.”
For the first time, Sirius looked around. Beyond the rocks along the trail and the winding dirt path, there was… life. Huge trees sprouted from the ground, wide branches criss-crossed, bulbous pine cones threatened to fall. The green of their needles shone with sunlight. Sirius removed his sunglasses and found their pure color surreal—all other foliage in the city must be covered in a layer of dust by comparison. Above, the sky was blue and blinding. He put his sunglasses back on.
“Wow,” Sirius said. “It is beautiful here.”
Remus laughed, and the sound merged with the birds and the sound of running creek water. “Welcome to backpacking!”
“Yeah,” Sirius murmured. He finally drank from his water. Adjacent from him, separated by the dirt path and unfamiliarity, Remus did the same.
“Have you eaten anything?” Remus asked.
“I’m not really hungry.”
Remus looked up. “You should eat. How do you feel?”
Sirius frowned. “I feel fine.”
“Good. Eat.”
Sirius repositioned his pack to reach the left hip belt pocket without standing up. Remus had instructed him to keep his snacks easily accessible, even though Remus himself appeared to still be digging through the main pocket of his green pack.
As Sirius took his first bite of granola bar, he watched Remus’s concentrated face break into one of childish delight. He withdrew a ziploc bag full of M&M candies from his pack and sat back down.
Sirius signaled his question with a cocked head and confused smile.
Remus returned the smile and nodded. “I encourage myself to eat real food by making the candy hard to reach. It rarely works.”
Sirius nodded, wondering not for the first time what it would have been like if Remus actually were his TA for this academic term.
“I’m doing good though,” Remus said through a mouth of chocolate. “I haven’t opened the bear bin yet.”
“Bear bin?”
Remus nodded while taking a swig of water. “We’re not really concerned about bears here, but it’s the smart place to store all of our food. Marlene has one too. Tonight I’ll have you put your toothbrush and paste in mine. It’s also waterproof.”
Sirius eyed Remus’s pack with newfound knowledge. It suddenly looked much bulkier than his own. He felt bad for wanting to complain about the “group gear” Remus gave him to carry.
Remus looked down the trail. “All right, all right. Okay, cool. What’s your water level?”
Sirius checked. “Pretty good.”
“How many liters of water do you have?” Remus enunciated the rephrased question as if he were speaking to a child.
Incensed, Sirius frowned. “I have one point three three liters of water.”
If Remus noticed the clipped tone, he didn’t show it. Instead, he rocked his head back and forth, mentally computing something. As he did it, Sirius watched his lips move side-to-side as well. “So you’ve had about two-thirds of a liter so far… that sounds good. Don’t hold back on drinking it though, we’ll be able to refill soon. Thank you for carrying that water filter.”
The words were spoken with kindness, and Sirius was divided between shame and willful ignorance. Time chose for him, and he did not speak.
The birds continued to sing. A lazy breeze brushed by, and hundreds of leaves rustled together. The moment held, until it snapped.
The women caught up. “Holy shit,” Alice stressed. She fumbled with her trekking poles, trying to keep them upright in one hand while unclipping her hip belt with the other. Eventually the poles dropped onto the trail, her pack dropped onto the ground, and she dropped onto a boulder, exhausted.
Standing behind her, Esme was completely out of breath. “Thank god, I need a break,” Esme muttered. Alice’s pack was blocking her and Marlene’s way.
“Bro, do you work out?” Alice pointed at Remus.
“What?” Remus asked, smiling.
“This hike is kicking my ass, but you’re fit as hell, huh?”
Remus laughed. “This hike is… hard, yeah. And you’re doing really excellent for carrying all this weight for the first time, all of you are.” He looked at Alice, then Esme, and then turned to nod once at Sirius too.
“No, don’t sugarcoat it,” Alice said, grinning. “You’re killing it, dude. I need to work out when we get back.”
Sirius took a closer look at Alice. He liked her energy from before, but he wasn’t sure he liked it focused on Remus like this.
“Alice, can you move your pack?” Marlene asked from behind Esme.
She did. “Oh shit, my bad. Esme, sit next to me. This rock isn’t too bad.”
Maybe she was just nice, Sirius decided, and wasn’t flirting with anyone.
“I’m tired as hell already,” Marlene said. She knelt into a back stretch and groaned. Marlene’s pack had a water tube extending from it, and she sipped from it while opening a bar wrapper. “You’re doing good though,” she said, tube between her teeth, jerking her chin at Sirius.
“Thanks?”
Marlene nodded, then sat back on her heels. “Oh, to be a tall man hiking up a mountain.” She wryly smiled at Alice and Esme, then tilted her head towards Remus and Sirius. The women smiled, and Remus shrugged sheepishly.
Sirius recognized the pedagogy and liked them all the more for it. With one simple joke, Marlene made Alice and Esme, who were clearly struggling, feel more comfortable, at the same time she signaled Remus to go easier on the group.
“If the boys want to get going they can.” Marlene sat on a rock facing Alice and Esme. “We’ll follow once we all eat a snack and drink at least half a liter.”
Sirius again picked up on her pedagogy, and bookmarked it. She was good at making people feel welcome. What was even better, he noted, was that it didn’t feel obvious. She wasn’t making anyone feel like they needed extra help.
By now, he had finished his bar and had a bit more water. He was starting to feel much better. Hiking wasn’t easy, but it turned out he wasn’t too bad at it. He was glad he wasn’t dragging the group down at all, at least.
“Ready to keep going?” Remus smiled as he stood.
Nodding, Sirius rose, following his leader.
“Bye, tall boys!” Alice called out.
***
“So, Sirius.”
“Yeah?”
They were stopped for another break on the trail. This stop was shaded under a thick canopy, next to a flowing creek. Sirius was pretty sure that once they started going again they were actually going to cross the water by walking on top of the log reaching to the other shore. It was magical, and yet so mundane. Sirius felt impressed by nature, and simultaneously disappointed in himself for not appreciating it earlier.
Remus laughed, and Sirius turned to face him.
“Sorry,” Sirius said. “I was zoning out.”
“No, you’re good. You were enjoying nature. If that’s the reason, I’ll gladly accept my random conversation not being listened to.” While the words would have sounded passive aggressive in someone else’s mouth, in Remus’s they sounded good-humored. Sirius wanted to contradict Remus, to tell him that he deserves to be heard. But he also wanted to just continue the moment, unmarred by an unrepresented voice of dissension.
“What did you say earlier?”
“I said,” Remus cocked his head, building suspense. Sirius remarked again at the joy he showed in simple moments. “That I have the ability to guess anyone’s age perfectly.”
“Please tell me I don’t look a day over twenty-nine,” Sirius said solemnly.
Remus laughed, showing his white teeth. “I don’t guess older people’s ages, don’t worry.”
“Okay, then.” Eyebrows raised in challenge, Sirius waited. “How old am I?”
“You are twenty-five.”
Sirius’s expression dropped. “No way. Oh. You must have had a roster or something. With my emergency contact stuff.”
“Oh, that’s true!” Remus allowed. “It would have your birthday on it, wouldn’t it? But no, that’s not how I knew. I guessed.”
“Good guess.”
“So I’m right?”
Sirius laughed. “I thought you were always accurate. Now you need assurance?” Remus laughed too, and as he turned his head away Sirius saw a touch of pink on his cheeks.
Sirius started. What was happening here? Surely Remus was just being friendly? Sirius didn’t know what to do otherwise. He was sort of his TA, after all.
“Okay fine,” Sirius said. “I’m twenty-five. Do you want to know why I’m an old man still in undergrad?”
Remus frowned. “There’s no time limit on graduating college. If you don’t graduate at twenty-two you’re not a bad person.”
Sirius swallowed, slightly discomforted by the sudden shift to seriousness. “I know.”
Remus just looked at him. “Good.”
“I took a couple of years off and ended up switching my major, and whole career focus, actually.”
Remus smiled. “And you’re happy where you are now? Environmental education type stuff?” He gestured to their surroundings, reminding Sirius that this right here was a component of his class.
“Yeah. I want to teach.”
“That’s awesome.”
“Thanks.”
Another little gust of wind blew through their break site, this time rustling more branches and sending both pine needles and sycamore leaves into the creek. Remus looked up, trying to see the sky through the tree cover.
“So. How do you guess people’s ages correctly?”
Remus looked back at him again. He shrugged. “I’m not always perfect, but I try to think of who they most remind me of, and then what age that person is or was at the time they reminded me of them.”
Sirius nodded. “Interesting. And it works, clearly. I guess if I had to guess about you, then…”
Remus grinned. “Oh, good. Do guess.”
Sirius cocked his head, looking at Remus more closely. To his surprise, Remus didn’t shy away from his gaze at all. “Well,” Sirius started. “You’re in grad school. I’m guessing you’ve been in grad school for a couple of years at least, and you probably graduated from undergrad when you were about twenty-two.” In his head, Sirius added that Remus was likely a bit more experienced in some things in life, but not all of them, than himself. “I’m going to guess twenty-seven.”
“That old? Wow, I’m offended,” Remus joked. “You’re a little off.”
“How off?”
“I’m twenty-five as well.”
Sirius nodded slowly. They were the same age. Interesting.
“Although,” Remus added. “I turn twenty-six in one week. So there is that.”
“Ah.”
“Yes, exactly.”
Sirius huffed a laugh and turned back towards the water in the creek. It appeared to be flowing faster now, less lazy than before. He heard once more a gust of wind. The knowledge that he would be sleeping outside for the next several days came back to him, but this time it didn’t feel as calm and nature-loving as before.
Remus showed Sirius how to filter water from the stream, using the filter from Sirius’s backpack. He said Marlene had another filter, and that she would be helping the others fill up while they were in two separate groups like this. Eventually, the men set off once more.
“We’re super close to where I think we should set up camp tonight,” Remus said. “I don’t want to make us walk too much further.”
Sirius thought of Esme and Alice at the first rest they took, and agreed.
“You seem to be doing really well though,” Remus added. “How do you feel right now?”
Sirius bit his cheek and received the praise. “I feel good. Definitely tired, but not too sore or anything yet.”
“That’s good. Let me know how you feel and if anything comes up, speak up. I’ll do the same. We should be fine out here, though.”
Sirius nodded.
They walked across the log bridge—packs unclipped so they wouldn’t get dragged underwater in case they fell in—and it felt like ages since Sirius drove through a foggy concrete jungle that morning. Everything was picturesque, but Sirius didn’t want to break the moment by taking a picture. It wasn’t just that he’d have to stop walking, shift his trekking poles to one hand, and dig under his hip straps to get to his pocket. It was also that the scene didn’t seem conducive to his handheld technology.
Instead, Sirius looked hard at the untaken frames, appreciating if not quite immortalizing them. Stubborn snow, at the top of a mountain peak. Trees, leaning in unison towards the sun. A hawk, watching him and Remus, from its perch. And suddenly, a lake, appearing through the foliage, blue and clear.
“Wow,” Sirius said, finally breaking his stride’s rhythm after all. But he didn’t go for his phone.
“Here we are.” Remus turned to face him, beaming. Sirius smiled at him once before looking back at the body of water. There was a shore of hard-edged pebbles, a buffer of dirt, and then grass-like ground cover plants, meandering along, painting the green contrast to the lake’s water.
“Wow,” Sirius said again.
Remus took a deep breath, raising his shoulders—and pack—before exhaling again. “Good hike in?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool. Nice work.”
Sirius nodded his thanks, biting his cheeks.
“When backpacking, we don’t make camp right next to a body of water.”
Sirius frowned, cocking his head at the lake in question.
Remus nodded. “We’re going off trail a bit. We’ll follow the old snowmelt path, up, that leads down to this lake. It’ll be steep, but then we’re done for the day.”
“Okay.” Sirius braced himself for steep, but celebrated the upcoming rest internally.
Remus turned and picked his way up the side of the hill. Sirius followed.
The hill suddenly turned into a mountain, and the mountain turned into a peak. And they were on the steepest face. Remus had to be a goat. There was no other explanation. As Sirius struggled, panting, to pull himself up the cliff, stabbing into the ground with poles, Remus simply walked up. He picked his footing easily, and eventually turned around.
Sirius tried nose-breathing again, but found he was too exhausted to fake it.
“We’re here,” Remus said.
“Oh.” Sirius looked around, and suddenly noticed that they were on level ground again. Then he looked backwards and saw how shallow the slope they just climbed looked. He could have sworn it was at least ninety degrees.
Sirius turned again to find Remus. He was squatting down in front of his pack, pulling items out. Deciding to follow suit, Sirius freed himself of his pack, dropped it, and moved closer to Remus. He marveled at how easy walking felt with the sudden lack of weight on his back. Then he marveled at how much work his knees had just performed, when they were used to so much less. He sat on a rock by Remus.
Remus pulled out a large cylindrical plastic tub. It was about the size of Sirius’s sleeping bag; it was surprising Remus had been carrying it the entire time. Its sides were clear, and bags of food stuff were jammed inside with no visible gaps at all.
“That’s the bear bin?”
“Yep. She’s gotten me through a lot,” Remus answered, patting it. “We go way back.”
Sirius was too tired to dislike the way Remus labeled the bear bin female, so he didn’t bother. He felt ready for bed, and then was surprised to see his watch declare it to be only three in the afternoon.
“Do you want to wait for them at the lake with me?”
Sirius looked up. Remus was once again holding his M&Ms.
“I think they’ll be a good distance back, but I wouldn’t want them to miss the turn-off.”
Sirius nodded, and stood once more.
“Great. There’s probably time to set up tents first though. Then you can leave most of your gear inside and just carry food and water down. And your homework journal. If you want.”
Remus set up his own tent in the time it took Sirius to unclip his own from the exterior of his backpack. It had been secured so tightly by Remus that Sirius thought he was going to break something while freeing it. Remus disappeared into his tent for a moment, then reappeared, with the same amount of energy as he had in the morning.
“See how the ground here is nice and level?” Remus asked.
“Yeah.”
“What do you notice about the rocks?”
Sirius looked at them. They were standing on a flat patch of packed dirt, bordered by a few granite boulders. Otherwise, the only rocks were five football-sized ones inside the clearing.
“Um.” Sirius tried to clear his mind. Or at least wake it up. “The boulders or the small rocks?”
“The smaller ones,” Remus answered. His voice was calm, as it apparently always was. It was a contrast to his energetic movements. “Do you think they landed here naturally or were placed here by people?”
“Oh,” Sirius says, realizing. “They’re here on purpose. People have camped here before.”
“Exactly!” Remus exclaims, praising Sirius’s basic observation. “This is a tent spot, and the rocks can go on top of your stakes, so you don’t kick them out or run into them.”
Sirius nodded. The gentle inquiry-based pedagogy was great, he knew, but he was also a little irked by it. He just wanted to relax.
Remus helped him set up his tent, and then reminded him of what to leave behind, then walked once more down the mountain side. Going down, it didn’t feel quite as steep as it first did, but maybe that was also influenced by not carrying his entire pack.
Once they arrived at the lake, Remus sighed, grinning. He sat and began pulling at his shoelaces. Sirius dully realized how sweaty his feet must be by now, and started doing the same. After removing his hiking shoes, Remus began some sort of seated stretching sequence, so Sirius walked towards the water alone.
The water was still. Now at the edge, Sirius breathed in, looking at rock and stone and earth and plant and lake. He looked at the sky, reflected in the water’s surface. Then he stepped inside, and sent ripples through the glass, distorting the image. He sighed again once both feet were in the chilled lake. He enjoyed the moment for a minute, just feeling, until he saw new ripples form in the water.
Remus walked in and immediately went up to his knees in the depth. He turned to look back at Sirius, grinning. “Benefits of wearing shorts,” he pointed out.
Sirius nodded. He was holding the hem of his pants slightly up, exposing his ankles to air in an effort to not get his pants wet. He had a feeling that soaking one of your only layers of clothing while living outside wasn’t a good call for the late afternoon.
“I think I’m going to swim.”
Sirius raised his eyebrows at Remus.
“My pack is visible from the trail, and honestly we’ll probably hear the girls long before we see them. Or, at least, you will.” Remus laughed, and Sirius followed, surprised by the man’s self-directed joke. Remus nodded once, as if agreeing with his decision, then strode out of the water.
“Wait,” Sirius said, realizing. “I thought it would be bad to get clothes wet?”
It was Remus’s turn to raise his eyebrows at Sirius. “True,” he agreed, then pulled his shirt off.
“Oh,” Sirius whispered. “Got it.”
Remus stretched again, reaching his arms wide and leaning back, uninhibited by fabric around his torso. Sirius had sunglasses on, and Remus’s eyes were closed, so Sirius looked. He watched muscle tighten and stretch across Remus’s body, covered by more blondish hairs and even a few tattoos. They were small, and Sirius couldn’t tell what they were, but the black ink stood out against Remus’s evenly-tanned skin.
“When backpacking,” Remus started, “a lot of people will swim in their underwear. I’m going to do that. If you’re comfortable with that, then go for it.”
Sirius nodded, then tore his eyes away—with effort—once Remus began tugging at the waistband of his shorts.
Sirius kicked the water a few times, still only ankle deep. He watched in his peripheral vision as Remus waded in past him, now with a few more inches of strong leg exposed. His boxer briefs clung to him tighter than his shorts had, and Sirius once again jerked his eyes away.
A splash.
Remus’s head reappeared from the water, soaked, and still grinning. He pushed his wet hair back from his forehead and looked at Sirius. “The water’s fine!” he called, then swam away.
Sirius smiled. He continued to kick the water. After a few seconds of swinging his foot back and forth, he had a sudden epiphany. Fuck it, he thought. Fuck it, if he wasn’t going to swim in this alpine fucking lake that was only accessible by backpacking, then he was a goddamn fool. He surged out of the water, ripping off his hat and sunglasses as he went. He dropped them by his shoes, then struggled out of his shirt. He only stopped once he reached his pants zipper.
Sirius paused once, checked the underwear he was wearing beneath—dark gray, normal-looking and quick-drying—then said, “fuck it,” once more. Sirius stepped out of his hiking pants and strode towards the lake. He knew his tan was much less even than Remus’s, but he felt confident in his frame. If conventional attraction was being valued here over social skills and outgoing friendliness, then he was doing just fine.
The water reached his feet again, then his calves, then his thighs. It was colder now that he wasn’t quite as hot from hiking in and wearing all his layers.
Remus reappeared, then cheered. “Swim, swim, swim,” he chanted. His eyes raked once—quickly, but not too quick for Sirius to miss—across Sirius’s body.
Sirius bit his cheek but didn’t bother to check his ego flare. He realized that Remus saw just the part of him that was above water: thighs, underwear, bare torso, arms. He could have held his hands in front of his boxers or tried to shield himself somehow. He didn’t though. Instead, he watched Remus’s face and ran fingers through his hair.
Instead of suavely catching his attention, Sirius froze, frowning. His hair felt stiff. Actually stiff, as if he had combed out its waves and froze them with an old woman’s hairspray.
Remus laughed, noticing. “Sweating with a hat on does wonders,” he said, then mussed his own hair.
Shaking his head in laughter, Sirius took one deep breath before stepping further out and letting himself submerge fully into the cool lake water.
It was ice for an instant, and then it transformed into bliss. Sirius surfaced, grinned, then dunked his head again. He ran his fingers through his hair a few times, then tossed it back away from his eyes. He was swimming in a lake in his underwear, in broad daylight. And it was perfect.
Time passed in the cool water. Eventually Remus frowned at the sky and said he was getting out. Sirius did another lazy lap across the shorter length of the lake, then looked up as well. He didn’t have to squint too hard at the sky, even though he was without his sunglasses. Fine by him. It probably meant a sunburn was less likely, despite their high altitude. Sirius emerged from the lake to join Remus. Maybe his non-TA was finally going to assign a homework activity. He had brought his journal, after all.
Sirius wiped the dripping water off his arms and squeezed once at his hair as he walked over. A baby of a breeze brushed over him and took the last of his body’s warmth built by swimming. And then a stronger breeze did the same. He shivered.
There wasn’t a good place to sit, but Sirius figured getting low was best for staying warm, so he sat on a patch of packed earth. He looked down. His boxer briefs clung to his skin much, much tighter than they had while dry. He looked up. Remus was facing him, with sunglasses blocking his eyes.
Sirius shifted his legs accordingly.
The wind calmed back down, and Sirius decided to lay down, basking in the afternoon sun to dry. He covered his face with his hat, and sighed in content. A humming insect passed overhead. A squawking bird began its call. And then, crunch.
Sirius held his breath. Silence returned. The sounds of nature filtered back in, but through a haze, blocked both by his hat and his exhaustion. He was ready to drift off, until, crunch. Then again, crunch.
Lifting his hat slightly, Sirius peered left. Remus was still in his underwear, sitting up, wearing a half-zipped puffy jacket with no shirt. And he was crunching potato chips. Remus saw Sirius’s glare, but not his derision.
“Have you eaten anything since you swam?” Remus’s words sealed Sirius’s fate—he was fully awake again.
Sirius grunted a no.
“You should.” Remus crunched another chip in emphasis. “You should also drink water. I brought the filter down in case we need more.”
Sighing, Sirius sat up. He grabbed the second half of his peanut butter and jam sandwich and water bottle. After taking a sip, he decided to copy Remus, and reached for his own jacket to don. As he zipped it up, he heard the voices.
“Marley, girl, you better be right, because I am ready to sleep right here. Esme is going to have to carry me if it’s any further.”
There was a gap in sound where Esme must have responded, too quiet for Sirius to hear, and then there was laughter.
“Is it them?” Remus asked. He was watching Sirius’s face closely, and had seen Sirius notice the voice.
“Yeah.”
“Great,” Remus said, looking at his watch. “We’re over here!” he called out.
Moments later, Alice and Esme appeared, stopped, peeking through the foliage at the lake.
“Girls,” Marlene groaned, and they finally stepped in enough for Marlene to enter the clearing as well.
“You made it!” Remus grinned. “Great job.”
Esme and Alice dropped their backpacks.
“You swam?” Marlene jerked her shoulder towards Remus while sipping from her water tube.
“We both did,” Remus corrected. Sirius looked down and remembered his apparel. Other than his unzipped puffy jacket, he was only in his underwear, sitting on the ground. He decided to adjust his pack between his legs, as if he were looking for something inside.
“You swam?” Esme asked, incredulous. “It looks so… cold.”
“Best way to clean off while backpacking,” Remus said. “Basically a shower.”
Alice laughed. “Maybe that’ll be me on day two. Or three.” She pulled at her shirt a bit self-consciously, and Sirius noticed it. Maybe she wasn’t quite so brazen and bold all the time, or it was just a part of her sociality, not identity.
“Besides—” Marlene didn’t seem to pick up on Alice’s subtext—“the window of opportunity for swimming is closing very quickly.” She was looking at the sky.
Sirius looked up, and realized why he wasn’t drying as fast as he thought he would. Where there was previously an expanse of bright blue, there were now shades of gray covering the sun and western half of the sky.
“Time to make camp.” Remus stood and brushed the dirt off the seat of his boxer briefs. “Sirius, are you dry yet?”
“Mostly.” Sirius shook out his hiking pants while still seated.
“Okay,” Remus said. He pulled on his shorts, then knelt to lace his shoes. “Make sure you change into dry underwear at camp.”
Sirius nodded, biting his cheek. “Okay.”
While Esme, Alice, and Marlene admired the lake, Sirius finished his sandwich and donned his pants. Remus led everyone back up to their chosen campsite. The walk up wasn’t too difficult without a pack, but Sirius still felt the strain on his knees. It really had been a lot more effort than they were used to.
Sirius changed in his tent, then reemerged. Marlene had set up her tent already and was now helping Esme and Alice with another slightly larger one. Apparently they would be sharing. Sirius looked around, and thought about laying down in his tent again until he saw Remus.
He was a short distance away, kneeling in front of his bear bin and another slightly smaller one, which Marlene must have been carrying. Sirius thought briefly about laying down again, then walked over.
“Hey,” Remus greeted him.
“Hey.”
“Nice job today.”
Sirius nodded. “Thanks.”
Silence filtered back in, and then the sounds of nature replaced it. A higher pitched hum flitted by. Piles of leaves were rustled by flitting birds. Remus slapped his arm once, then grunted.
“Mosquitoes are out.”
Sirius frowned.
Eventually, Remus told Sirius to go put his warmer layers on, and then sent him off again to get more water. By the time Remus announced that soup was ready—the dehydrated vegetables still crunchy—Sirius could have slept right there, sitting on his boulder.
Sirius let the girls go first. Before he could rise to half-fill his tupperware—he wasn’t that hungry—Remus was pressing a full bowl into his hands.
“Here,” Remus said. “There’s seasonings too, Marlene has the bag right now.”
Sirius nodded his thanks, then took his first bite. It wasn’t very tasty, but it was at least warm. After a yawn, he looked around the group. Alice was laughing at Esme for something, who was protesting with a grin. Marlene was rolling her eyes at both of them. Remus was eating out of the pot. Sirius realized the bowl he had been handed must have been Remus’s own, since Sirius’s sandwich container was still in his pack. Remus kept flicking his eyes over at Sirius.
Marlene made everyone finish their meal. It was important to keep their energy up, she declared, even if they didn’t have large appetites. After dinner, Remus pressed a single Oreo into Sirius’s palm, then folded his own fingers over it. Sirius laughed, and a little burst of affection rippled through him, despite his intense tiredness.
A little later, after brushing teeth and peeing in the woods, the sky had darkened enough to force a choice: headlights or sleep. Sirius chose the latter.
“Goodnight Sirius!” Alice called from the entrance of her tent.
“Goodnight,” he returned with a little smile. It was okay here. Sleep took him the moment his head hit his inflatable pillow.
***
He woke in the night feeling sore. He turned from his back to his side to better stretch his leg in his sleeping bag. The fabric prevented a full stretch, and his hip bone dug through his inflatable sleeping pad and met the hard ground. When he stretched his arms up instead, he felt the chill.
It was freezing.
Sirius turned again, tried to bury himself in his sleeping bag, then gave up, and started the search for his hat and gloves. He had placed them right by his head before going to sleep. When patting around didn’t work, Sirius sat up. He tried to use the glow of his watch to find them. When he finally did, he saw the digits flashing at him. It was 2:15am.
The cold needled him, and the soreness ached. He must have fallen asleep again, because the next time he looked at his watch it was 4am. He had to pee.
He zipped his tent open and let the cold air rush in. He swung his legs out of his sleeping bag, laced his stiff hiking shoes, and walked into the dark. The stars were clearer than he could ever remember seeing them.
When he returned to his tent, he was frozen again. Eventually, Sirius drifted off, once more.