the_debt_of_time

Remus raised a brow, contemplating her ultimatum for a moment before he sighed
and leant backward, dropping his head onto her lap as though it were a pillow. Placing his
arms on his chest, he laced his fingers together. "I'm not doing this because you're right."
"Of course not, love." Mia smiled and dug her fingers gently into Remus's
shoulders.
"You didn't win this argument," he insisted.
"Wouldn't think of it."
"I'm doing this because no bloke in his right mind would ever turn down a shoulder
rub from a pretty girl."
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, please."
"Please, what?" he asked, cracking open one eye and looking up at her.
"I'm already going to rub your shoulders, you don't have to... to.. ."
"To what?"
"I don't know. Act like Sirius?" She shrugged, frowning.
By the time the war ended, she had been more concerned with other things than
how she looked, but being back in her awkward, younger body—even with her teeth
prematurely fixed—brought up old self-esteem issues that she was forced to relive. She
was well aware that her hair had always been a bit out of control, though Tilly had helped
teach her spells to calm it into soft curls versus the bushy mess it often resembled. She had
never developed the same curves that Lavender had, and her eyes were not as mesmerising
as Lily's were.
"You don't have to lie to me," she said quietly.
"What did I lie about?" he asked, offended.
"For one, calling me pretty."
"Mia―"
"Don't, Remus," she cut him off quickly. "Please. Just... lie down and let me help
you."
"But I―"
Her eyes pleaded with him. "Remus.. ."
"Well, look at this sight," James said as he, Sirius, and Peter walked into the stands,
their clothes covered in sweat and dirt, brooms slung over their shoulders. "Remus doesn't
do a thing, and he gets special treatment."