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such_heights) wrote2006-10-10 10:00 pm
such_heights) wrote2006-10-10 10:00 pm
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scarvesnhats Day 09
Escape
PG-13, 500 words
Remus/Sirius
Summary: Remus wants to find a way to make it all ok. Autumn 1980.
Notes: For the 9th prompt atscarvesnhats, a Margaret Atwood poem, some of which is quoted within. Regulus once again has wormed his way in; how, I have no idea!
Remus is at Headquarters, moving from owl to owl frantically, trying to keep the threads of information running. He hasn’t got a particle of spare energy to pay attention to anything extraneous. Therefore, he has no idea how long Dumbledore has been standing in the doorway before he notices him.
He stops abruptly. ‘Sir,’ he said breathlessly, feeling like a schoolboy.
Dumbledore looks even more grave than usual. ‘Have you seen Sirius?’
Already the dread that always inhabits the recesses of Remus’ stomach begins to bubble. He just indicates a door wordlessly, and Dumbledore sighs.
‘It’s about his brother,’ Dumbledore says, before moving away, and Remus is left standing stock-still and horrified, knowing what this has to mean.
He doesn’t see Sirius for a long time after that, and Remus tries desperately to think of ways to make this better.
I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary.
As they tread down to the sand (cold and damp between his toes), Remus can’t even remember who said what, who suggested what, but here they are all the same. They’ve both pulled out old courage, courage marked by sparks of red and gold, and agreed to have one day in complete and blissful denial of their lives. With a smile that barely looks forced, Sirius changes into Padfoot, and the simplicity of throwing sticks is enough to make Remus forget.
Maybe it’s the fresh air. Maybe they’re too tired to keep their defences in place. Maybe, Remus won’t think till later, Sirius put something in their food. Whatever it is, by the time Sirius moves to kiss him, all other thoughts have faded away. Cool, autumnal fingers rift through his hair.
‘We should always be like this,’ Remus whispers.
‘I know.’
And Remus hates the fighting, even though he knows it is the most important thing he has ever done in his life. Instead, he wants to float away with autumn leaves, away from Britain and these cold, cruel times. He wants to take Sirius from here, let him escape the realities of the world.
There is a lake far away (so he was told, once, sung in a lullaby) where a warm wind paints ripples across the water. In the middle there is an island, and on the island is a tree with silver branches. There is a flower that grows there which is a talisman against all grief. Take the flower to your heart and the ache will ebb away, lost in the currents that flow out of the lake and down to the sea.
Remus wants to make all things better, but magic has its limits, and he watches Sirius and knows his wand may as well be snapped in two. They return to the chaos and the fear comes back to greet them. The modern world has no space for such escapist notions, so Remus must just watch as the cracks appear, powerless.
Sirius is put on lighter duty until his protests no longer fall on deaf ears, and soon enough this casualty diminishes into the great tidal wave of the war. Remus cannot help but wonder who will be next, and cannot help but hope it will not be the ones he loves.
PG-13, 500 words
Remus/Sirius
Summary: Remus wants to find a way to make it all ok. Autumn 1980.
Notes: For the 9th prompt at
scarvesnhats, a Margaret Atwood poem, some of which is quoted within. Regulus once again has wormed his way in; how, I have no idea!Remus is at Headquarters, moving from owl to owl frantically, trying to keep the threads of information running. He hasn’t got a particle of spare energy to pay attention to anything extraneous. Therefore, he has no idea how long Dumbledore has been standing in the doorway before he notices him.
He stops abruptly. ‘Sir,’ he said breathlessly, feeling like a schoolboy.
Dumbledore looks even more grave than usual. ‘Have you seen Sirius?’
Already the dread that always inhabits the recesses of Remus’ stomach begins to bubble. He just indicates a door wordlessly, and Dumbledore sighs.
‘It’s about his brother,’ Dumbledore says, before moving away, and Remus is left standing stock-still and horrified, knowing what this has to mean.
He doesn’t see Sirius for a long time after that, and Remus tries desperately to think of ways to make this better.
I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary.
As they tread down to the sand (cold and damp between his toes), Remus can’t even remember who said what, who suggested what, but here they are all the same. They’ve both pulled out old courage, courage marked by sparks of red and gold, and agreed to have one day in complete and blissful denial of their lives. With a smile that barely looks forced, Sirius changes into Padfoot, and the simplicity of throwing sticks is enough to make Remus forget.
Maybe it’s the fresh air. Maybe they’re too tired to keep their defences in place. Maybe, Remus won’t think till later, Sirius put something in their food. Whatever it is, by the time Sirius moves to kiss him, all other thoughts have faded away. Cool, autumnal fingers rift through his hair.
‘We should always be like this,’ Remus whispers.
‘I know.’
And Remus hates the fighting, even though he knows it is the most important thing he has ever done in his life. Instead, he wants to float away with autumn leaves, away from Britain and these cold, cruel times. He wants to take Sirius from here, let him escape the realities of the world.
There is a lake far away (so he was told, once, sung in a lullaby) where a warm wind paints ripples across the water. In the middle there is an island, and on the island is a tree with silver branches. There is a flower that grows there which is a talisman against all grief. Take the flower to your heart and the ache will ebb away, lost in the currents that flow out of the lake and down to the sea.
Remus wants to make all things better, but magic has its limits, and he watches Sirius and knows his wand may as well be snapped in two. They return to the chaos and the fear comes back to greet them. The modern world has no space for such escapist notions, so Remus must just watch as the cracks appear, powerless.
Sirius is put on lighter duty until his protests no longer fall on deaf ears, and soon enough this casualty diminishes into the great tidal wave of the war. Remus cannot help but wonder who will be next, and cannot help but hope it will not be the ones he loves.
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