"I need your hand," Sirius demanded, flopping onto the rug where Remus was reading.
"Why?" Remus asked, not looking up.
"Divination homework," Sirius lied smoothly. "Trelawney wants us to map the life line of a 'close companion' to predict their tragic demise. Come on, give me the paw."
Remus sighed, extended his left hand, and went back to reading.
Sirius took Remus’s hand in both of his. He didn't look at the palm lines. Instead, he began slowly tracing the veins on the back of Remus’s hand with his thumb, massaging the knuckles, and running his fingers lightly over the scars on Remus’s wrist.
"Hmm," Sirius hummed gravely. "Very interesting."
"Do I die young?" Remus asked dryly, turning a page with his free hand.
"No," Sirius whispered, lacing their fingers together and resting his chin on their joined hands. "But the lines here suggest you need to pay more attention to the handsome dog animagus currently worshipping your phalanges."
Remus looked down. Sirius was looking up through his lashes, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
"That's not palmistry, Sirius."
"It’s an advanced technique. Tactile divination."
"You made that up."
"And yet," Sirius squeezed his hand, "you aren't pulling away."
James, who actually took Divination, looked over from his chart. "We're studying tea leaves this month, Pete. We haven't done palmistry since third year."
"Does Remus know that?" Peter asked.
James looked at Remus, who was watching Sirius play with his fingers with a soft, affectionate expression. "I think Remus knows exactly what's happening."