__<br/><br/>Mulligan liked this way of teaching, Remus had come to notice, the way that the old professor encouraged them not only to speak their theories out loud but to challenge one another’s. It did little to quell Remus’ ingrained competitiveness. Usually, Remus paid careful attention, weaving through the arguments in search of unjust assumptions but this Monday morning, his mind was pitifully distracted.<br/>Sirius Black was at the blackboard, passionately and confidently going on about the properties of ionized radiation, and though Black was too far ahead with his dissertation to make his presentations even remotely flawed, Remus was acutely aware of the root of his distraction.<br/>Chin propped up on his hand, a knuckle at his lips, Remus had all but convinced himself that he could see the shadow of ink beneath the white cotton of Black’s shirt.<br/>It came in flashes, the TA turning towards the board in a way that played tricks on Remus’ mind, an outstretched arm to annotate something pulling at the fabric enough to make Remus’ eyes flicker away from the equation. He never felt sure, though, and much to his dismay Remus realized the sight of Black’s bare torso had pitifully burned itself into his brain.<br/>Remus turned his face into his hand, rubbing at his eyes as though he’d be able to wash both his corneas and conscience clear.