Harry exchanged a nervous look with Neville as they were ushered into the study. Sirius and Remus had been strange all day, and the way Sirius had abruptly informed them that Neville's Gran had given her permission for Neville to stay for a bit longer before he'd hustled Hermione to the floo after the politics lesson made Harry's 'Marauder' alarm start ringing very loudly.
Sirius waved them into a sofa in the seating area. The coffee table had a waiting pensieve filled with a silvery memory. Remus sat in a chair next to them and sent a pointed look to Sirius, who was hovering with a strange expression on his face by the open door. The two Marauders seemed to have an entire silent conversation before Sirius heaved a sigh and shut the door.
"Right," Sirius cleared his throat as he walked over to join them, "so you're probably wondering why we've brought you two in here."
Harry swapped another bemused look with Neville before they both nodded.
"Right," Sirius repeated, taking a deep breath, "we're here to have a discussion with you about…" he gestured, "well, um, I guess you could say, about courting?"
Courting?
Harry's green eyes were startled wide as he realised where the discussion was heading. He shook his head quickly. "That's OK, Padfoot, really! I think Neville and I, uh…"
"We know." A very pale Neville managed to get out.
"Yes, you know," Sirius agreed fervently before he sighed, "but do you know?"
Harry frowned in confusion and was relieved Neville's expression was equally bewildered.
Sirius cast a desperate look at Remus.
"What Padfoot is trying to say is that we are aware that you may know the biological facts but that is rather different to the art of courting." Remus said. "There are also certain emotional and physical implications about dating someone and becoming sexually active. And, we should check that what you do know is accurate and not a tale from Mister Finnegan's imagination."
Harry was fairly sure Neville was looking as horrified as he was.
"Right," Sirius said again, "I think we should just…get on with it. Here," he pointed at the pensieve, "is a memory." His face softened in remembrance. "It's your Dad, Harry. Your Granddad actually gave James this kind of talk the Summer after our fourth year. We Marauders went to visit him and so…"
Harry brightened at the news. It was a memory of his Dad! How bad could it be?
"We're all going to enter the pensieve." Remus said. "If you have a question at any point, we'll pause the memory and explain before we move on."
Sirius smiled at them. "Ready?"
Harry glanced at Neville who gave a nervous smile. They leaned forward to enter the pensieve…
They fell into the memory and found themselves in a large sunny bedroom. An unmade bed could be seen to the left but four boys were gathered on the floor, a plate of snacks in the centre of them and they each had glasses of butterbeer.
Harry soaked up the sight of his fifteen year old Dad; everyone was right, they did look alike with the same messy dark hair, slim build and Potter features. But there were differences beyond his Dad's hazel eyes…his father had a casual elegance and air of status about him that Harry knew would have come from the etiquette lessons he must have had as a child; there was also a faint hint of the arrogance Sirius had confessed to Harry; and, finally, there was the openly mischievous smirk that adorned his face.
His gaze moved to the boy to his Dad's immediate left – Sirius. There was already a hint of the rebel about Sirius in his muggle clothing of jeans and t-shirt. Fifteen year old Sirius still had shadows in his eyes but Harry knew the shadows had nothing to do with Azkaban and he recognised the guarded wariness all too well from looking in a mirror when he'd been growing up with the Dursleys; a desperate loneliness and a want to belong.
Remus sat to the left of Sirius, opposite Harry's father. There were fewer scars across his face and his hair was a glossy sandy colour. His brown eyes were warm and friendly.
The rat was the last of the group but fifteen year old Peter didn't look like the crawling betrayer that Harry had encountered at the end of his third year. Peter looked like the others – young and mischievous if a little nondescript with his brown hair and eyes; a little slovenly with his twisted collar and the faint stain of some condiment on the front of his robes.
Neville shifted beside him. "That's Pettigrew?"
"Younger and not yet in Tom's pocket but…yeah." Harry admitted quietly.
"We couldn't delete him, unfortunately," Sirius added, "but he was always pretty quiet so you shouldn't have to put up with him saying much."
Harry nodded absently as he tuned into what his Dad was saying…
"…and then he sits me down and gives me the Little Wizard's Talk!" James announced, waving his sandwich at them. "I mean, me!"
"At least he went to the trouble to sit down and talk with you!" Sirius said disgruntled.
"Exactly." Remus nodded. "I think my parents are trying to ignore the fact that I'm a teenager." He sighed. "Not that having the Talk would make a difference to me. With my condition I can hardly go out with someone."
"Bollocks, Moony!" remonstrated Sirius. "There are plenty of girls who'd like you to escort them to Hogsmeade if you'd just get over yourself."
"And when they find out the truth?" shot back Remus. "How many do you think will stick around after that?"
"The ones that deserve you." James interrupted. "If they don't want to know you because of your furry little problem, they don't deserve to be with you."
"Hear, hear." Sirius said.
Harry noticed their Remus was shooting Sirius an irritated look as their memory versions started their campaign for James to spill the beans on what had been said in his Talk.
"I thought you were going to start the memory from a later point?" Remus hissed at Sirius.
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