Chapter Text
Marlene storms into the common room, clutching her robes in her arms.
The room stills, noticing Marlene’s mood immediately. As sixth years, their merry band of annoying Gryffindors isn’t quite at the top of the food chain (that spot is reserved for Alice Fortesque and Frank Longbottom) but seeing as Marlene is on the Quidditch team, and friends with the four most troublesome boys Hogwarts has ever met, her presence is always revered. Third and fourth years watch as she throws her robes onto the ground next to Lily with a great huff.
The boys stare, waiting for one of the girls to ask her what's wrong.
Remus quite likes that they're all friends now, seeing as James and Lily can get on without incident about 70% of the time, however: the line of which friendship takes priority in moments like these are quite clear. Lily leans forward, brow furrowed.
"Alright, Marls?" She asks.
Marlene, most like Sirius in character, dramatically throws herself to the ground. Remus smirks. "No!" She shouts, toeing her Mary Jane's off. "Fucking Slughorn is a sexist pig and took twenty fucking points because of stupid fucking trousers!"
She kicks her legs like a child. Marlene has taken to wearing the boys uniform this year, taking on muggle lesbian fashions after spending most of the summer with her muggle girlfriend. Remus was immensely jealous.
"Twenty points?" Sirius screws his face up. "Thats fucking ridiculous!"
The girls turn to Sirius, who's lying in Remus' lap. Remus has a hand twirling through his hair absentmindedly. He and Sirius are fine. Decidedly. They're no longer avoiding each other, nor are they getting into shouting matches, but they aren't the best friends they used to be. Remus misses him, and hates himself for it immensely. They can cuddle up like they would as boys, joke and plan pranks, but the tension Remus can’t quite name that boils beneath the surface clouds every interaction like a foggy morning. He can’t clear it from his mind, can’t expel Sirius from his thoughts. Sirius hasn't dared show Remus anything other than cool, calculated swagger and ease; despite knowing James had gotten a summer full of drinking himself into a stupor and crying. Sirius has, since getting disowned, taken swiftly to anything muggle- including, of course, Remus' muggle music; muggle clothes; jewelry; drugs; boys and surprisingly, politics.
Marlene shoots up. "Yeah! It fucking is- especially since Sirius breaks dress code everything fucking day!"
She flops back down into Dorcas' lap. Dorcas soothes her by running a hand into her hair.
"She is right, you know." James shrugs, glancing Sirius' direction. "How many times has Slughorn told you to take that bloody jacket off without taking points?"
Sirius grimaces. "Not helping."
Lily rolls her eyes at James. “Can you believe he took five points off because my skirt was ‘too high?’ It goes to my bloody knees!”
“He’s a pig.” James groans, though Remus thinks that is particularly hypocritical. Lily levels her gaze at him.
“You’re part of the reason he thinks I’m a distraction.” Lily deadpans, and James flushes.
"It's just so fucking dumb." Marlene grumbles. "Why can't I wear trousers? Muggle girls get to wear trousers! I bet Sirius could wear the girls uniform and get off scot-free!"
Remus practically sees the idea forming in James' and Sirius' collective consciousness.
"Wanna bet?" Sirius asks, popping up from Remus' lap. Marlene studies him.
“What?” Lily quirks a brow at him.
"It's a double standard. So,” Sirius draws out the word, grinning. “Switch the standard! There’s no real rule that boys can’t wear the girls uniform; only that girls can’t wear the boys!”
Remus must admit, there might be something there.
Dorcas scoffs. “Are you really saying you’re going to wear the girls uniform in protest?”
While Peter and Mary laugh, Sirius just becomes emboldened. “Yes!”
“Wouldn’t that just change the rule so boys can’t wear girls' uniforms, not that anyone can wear pants? Or a skirt, I suppose.” Lily asks, leaning into Sirius. Her face is flush with intrigue; she’s got that brightness in her eyes that convinces Remus she was meant to be a Marauder. Sirius deflates.
“Well,” James pitches, always ready to impress Lily. “It might, but, if Marls and Sirius kicked up enough fuss, and held out through the rule changes: they could give in and simply scrap the sex-based one entierly.”
Lily’s lips part, before nodding sagely. “Maybe- and maybe if some of the other professors got behind us, they’d be more prone to listen!”
“I bet McGonagall would help!” Mary grins. “She wears trousers!”
Sirius grins, something biting and canine in it. “What do you think, Marls?”
Marlene grins, something mischievous and equally as biting in her own smile. “I think it’s brilliant, as long as you’ve got the balls.”
Sirius sticks out his hand, and Remus watches Marlene shake it. Marlene’s hands are strong and calloused in Sirius’ soft and dainty ones; wonderful juxtaposition to foreshadow what is to come. Sirius barks a laugh.
“Now, why don’t you give me your skirts!”
The group erupts in laughter, tipping over on couches in the common room.
And thus commenced, what Remus would later dub, ‘ The Great Dress Code Revolution of 1977.’
The next morning, Remus has almost forgotten the plan hashed out last night. He wakes up blissfully unaware of the scene he is about to be thrust into. Sirius is standing, at the foot of his own bed, with nothing but his pants on and one foot in his tights. Remus’ cheeks burn immediately, and he averts his gaze.
“Like what you see, Moons?” Sirius quips, his voice bright and biting. Sirius is never up this early, so he must be excited.
“Are you really doing this?” Peter asks, sleep still in his voice. He yawns. “Don’t you think it’ll be uncomfortable?”
James chuckles. “I do think that's the point. Lily says lots of girls' clothing is actually really uncomfortable.”
Remus wants to throw in that the point Lily had been trying to make was ‘and that is a problem, considering-’ but he’s not quite awake enough to follow this conversation and watch Sirius pull the tights up his pale legs.
“Mate, how will you piss?” Peter pushes himself up from bed, looking truly awestruck.
Sirius laughs. “I’ll rip a hole in the tights, Pete.” He quips. “Exactly how anyone pisses.”
“You’ve ripped them.” James points out, tilting his head to stare at Sirius’ arse. Remus does everything in his power not to look, but Sirius insists on turning around his own shoulder to try and see.
“Dammit! Damn- Mary said my rings would do that.” Sirius groans, grabbing the skirt with a huff. He steps into it, and chases his own tail to try and see his behind. “Can you see now?”
James shakes his head. “Not at all, mate, but I wish I-”
James gets a face full of pillow, and giggles as Sirius tackles him.
“Don’t objectify me!” Sirius laughs, suffocating James as he writhes beneath him. The two never got over wrestling, whereas Remus and Peter would rather go about their days without bruises and split lips. Sirius relents today, and instead throws the pillow at James’ head in retreat. “Get dressed! You’re walking me to breakfast.”
James salutes, grinning at Sirius' direction. He seems to take Sirius’ new fashion in stride, though James never seems to notice what Sirius wears as long as Sirius is happy. His best mate showing up in a skirt seems like just another Tuesday to him.
“Am I, M’lady?” James says, with bravado. “Tis an honor!”
James is a much better friend, because Remus’ heart is racing strangely; his own hands sweating buckets. He’s worried. Sirius’ disownment had been violent and public- making him a target for students who sympathized with his parents beliefs. Were it not enough he was a blood traitor, Sirius is also noteably gay, which went over like an atom bomb.
It wasn’t surprising, and Remus thinks James knew long before he and Peter had. Sirius is one of those people you just… assume. Remus doesn’t have a problem with it, of course, but he worries. He wouldn’t want Sirius to get hurt.
Not that he can’t defend himself.
Surely, there's nothing to worry about.
His hands are so sweaty they leave stains on his pajamas.
Sirius snaps his button down at James, who finally extracts himself from his covers and gets dressed.
Remus, helplessly, watches Sirius do up his buttons. Long, careful fingers hide his chest under thin white fabric. Remus can see the ghost of his figure beneath it; taut muscles, strong shoulders from years of Quidditch, and a searing scar he had been given by his mother the night he ran away. It’s still bright, despite being months old now, and the skin pulls uncomfortably. Remus’ heart aches.
He dresses stiffly, trying to avoid Sirius as he battles with his tie (trying to get it to hang perfectly askew, as to look like it’s been tugged on by someone reeling him in for a kiss, Remus suspects.) Not watching Sirius is such a task though, his presence draws all eyes to him; the brightest star in the sky.
Remus manages to dress, alongside James and Peter. Sirius is still doing his makeup in the bathroom while they wait.
“Pads!” James shouts, rolling his eyes. He trudges into the bathroom, and hears Sirius chuckle. “You look great, c’mon now.”
“It’s crooked.” Sirius whines. Remus is sure, whatever part of his appearance he’s annoyed with, is actually perfect.
James huffs, and Remus hears him grab Sirius. Peter shoots Remus a funny look, rolling his eyes.
“This is going to make him even more obsessed with his looks.” Pete laughs. Remus elbows him.
“And he’s already horrible.”
Peter groans. “Padfoot! Hurry up!”
“Go on without me!” Sirius groans, as he and James step out. His eyes are rimmed with black liner- making him look a bit like a raccoon. It is actually quite bad. “I’m a mess.”
They all laugh, but no one actually goes on, as Sirius steps back into the bathroom. James takes his seat on Sirius’ bed, which gives him a vantage point to still chatter away with Sirius as he fixes himself. No Marauder for himself, and all that.
When Sirius does, finally, finish dressing, he’s as stunning as always. His long, dark hair is draped artfully over his shoulders, gracing the leather jacket Sirius has swapped out for a Gryffindor jumper. His robes are under his arm, which dangle beside the pleated skirt borrowed from Marlene. He’s got an assortment of muggle rings on either hand, eyeliner brightening his gray eyes, and is grinning with ease and charm only Sirius Black can muster. He looks- well. Remus might not fancy boys, but he would fancy Sirius if he did. His askew tie, undone buttons and effortlessly mussed hair make him look like he just finished getting shagged.
They make it out of the dorm, and down toward the great hall without incident. Sirius makes heads turn, sure, but Sirius always makes heads turn. He walks with an air of unbothered confidence and jokes with James as they go.
Nearing the great hall, James gets caught up with the girls, and they all stop to chat. Everyone congratulates Sirius on his new look, teasing him. Sirius brims with charm and fawns at the compliments. It’s not until everyone gets caught up in Dorcas’ story about her dream, that Remus notices Sirius two paces behind, looking at himself in a window.
Remus watches him curiously. Sirius looks at himself, fanning out the pleats of his borrowed skirt in the reflection. He can’t help but watch his face change; twisting strangely from his softly focused hooded eyes to something new and bright. The dark charcoal that lines them only brightens the life Remus catches in Sirius’ reflection. His heart stutters.
“You look nice.” Remus coughs.
All that life fades from Sirius’ face, and is replaced with the same charming mask he wears every day. “Thanks Moony.”