B is for bric-a-brac
Title: Summer Recollections
Author: edna_blackadder
Fandom: Harry Potter
Medium: Book
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Sirius/Remus
Theme: B is for bric-a-brac
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Summer Recollections
The previous summer had been beautiful, and beauty, Remus Lupin knew, was fleeting. Granted, it was far from perfect. Perfect would have seen him and Sirius Black returned to their Godric’s Hollow flat, alone in a place unmarred by years of inhabitance by Dark wizards, secluded together in a place that had never known anything but their love, raw and pure as it had been in those times. So the fact that they had been at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, the hated manor of Sirius’ youth, meant that the summer could not qualify as perfect.
But it had been beautiful, because although the setting had been less than ideal, they had been together. To Remus, that was all that mattered. Indeed, he had begun to feel guilty because he felt like he did not loathe the house as he should, knowing the pain Sirius had suffered growing up there and the pain he was suffering again being back, because for Remus it meant that at least he could be with Sirius. He had cherished that time, jealously guarded every free moment he had had, determined to spend it with Sirius, whether joking with him, ranting with him, making mad love to him or just being with him. That had been undeniably beautiful.
Unfortunately, one of their shared activities had often been cleaning, discovering and unceremoniously disposing of old Black family treasures. Sirius would find some despised trinket, hold it up to Remus and begin his requisite explanation of exactly how this particular item had wronged him as a child. Remus would then offer some sort of reply, sometimes sympathetic, sometimes exasperated. If Sirius had a truly appalling story, which he sometimes did, Remus would simply smile, lean in close and suggest a creative way to destroy the offending object. When he did this, he had to be careful to make his comment funny, because as long as Remus was making Sirius laugh, the teenagers wouldn’t notice anything odd about them sitting that close.
One day they were almost caught. Alone in what had been a storage room, they had been assigned to remove everything that had once been stored there. Remus set about pulling a large cardboard box off a shelf while Sirius sat on the floor bitterly wondering how Kreacher had possibly missed this room in his quest to retrieve every prized Black heirloom for his dear mistress. Remus wrenched the box open and placed it on the floor in front of Sirius, who sniffed at disdainfully. Remus sat down next to his lover, and their hands brushed over a tarnished gold clock.
Sirius intertwined his fingers with Remus’, and the pair had simply looked at each other, their odious task momentarily forgotten. Sirius smiled suddenly and kissed Remus, strongly resembling the old Sirius, the one who had lived for spontaneity and excitement before Lord Voldemort had shattered his world. Remus sighed as Sirius deepened the unexpected kiss. This moment was one of the times that Remus cherished so, one of those moments of intense, if fleeting, beauty.
They pulled away reluctantly due to the need for air, but their fingers remained intertwined. The two men stared at each other, lost in their affection for one another, oblivious to the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. The door was thrown open and Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger burst into the room, laughing about something involving Fred and George, Mad Eye Moody, a fake wand and a very real defensive hex. They abruptly stopped laughing when they saw Sirius and Remus sitting silently on the floor, staring at each other with their fingers intertwined over an antique clock.
Upon noticing Ron and Hermione they immediately separated their hands, and Sirius picked up the clock and launched into a tale of how it had contributed to his youthful misery. Remus sighed with relief as Ron and Hermione listened to Sirius’ story and began digging through the other contents of the box. When he looked up, however, Hermione smiled knowingly, and Remus felt himself turn a shade of pink as Sirius glanced at him. Ron’s expression became confused as he tried to work out what was so awkward, and all three males visibly relaxed when Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him to the door, insisting that they start clearing up a Doxy-infested study downstairs.
As soon as they had gone, Sirius and Remus looked at each other and abandoned the box. What subsequently passed between them was not perfect, but, considering the circumstances, was close enough. Remus, at least, remembered it fondly. Sirius may have hated the house, but as much as Remus felt he ought to hate it, he knew he could never hate any place where he and Sirius had been, together and, however briefly, happy.
FINIS
Cross-posted to my LJ and eventually to FFn and FA.org, if I decide it doesn't suck too much. This isn't my best work, but it was a difficult word.
Author: edna_blackadder
Fandom: Harry Potter
Medium: Book
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Sirius/Remus
Theme: B is for bric-a-brac
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Summer Recollections
The previous summer had been beautiful, and beauty, Remus Lupin knew, was fleeting. Granted, it was far from perfect. Perfect would have seen him and Sirius Black returned to their Godric’s Hollow flat, alone in a place unmarred by years of inhabitance by Dark wizards, secluded together in a place that had never known anything but their love, raw and pure as it had been in those times. So the fact that they had been at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, the hated manor of Sirius’ youth, meant that the summer could not qualify as perfect.
But it had been beautiful, because although the setting had been less than ideal, they had been together. To Remus, that was all that mattered. Indeed, he had begun to feel guilty because he felt like he did not loathe the house as he should, knowing the pain Sirius had suffered growing up there and the pain he was suffering again being back, because for Remus it meant that at least he could be with Sirius. He had cherished that time, jealously guarded every free moment he had had, determined to spend it with Sirius, whether joking with him, ranting with him, making mad love to him or just being with him. That had been undeniably beautiful.
Unfortunately, one of their shared activities had often been cleaning, discovering and unceremoniously disposing of old Black family treasures. Sirius would find some despised trinket, hold it up to Remus and begin his requisite explanation of exactly how this particular item had wronged him as a child. Remus would then offer some sort of reply, sometimes sympathetic, sometimes exasperated. If Sirius had a truly appalling story, which he sometimes did, Remus would simply smile, lean in close and suggest a creative way to destroy the offending object. When he did this, he had to be careful to make his comment funny, because as long as Remus was making Sirius laugh, the teenagers wouldn’t notice anything odd about them sitting that close.
One day they were almost caught. Alone in what had been a storage room, they had been assigned to remove everything that had once been stored there. Remus set about pulling a large cardboard box off a shelf while Sirius sat on the floor bitterly wondering how Kreacher had possibly missed this room in his quest to retrieve every prized Black heirloom for his dear mistress. Remus wrenched the box open and placed it on the floor in front of Sirius, who sniffed at disdainfully. Remus sat down next to his lover, and their hands brushed over a tarnished gold clock.
Sirius intertwined his fingers with Remus’, and the pair had simply looked at each other, their odious task momentarily forgotten. Sirius smiled suddenly and kissed Remus, strongly resembling the old Sirius, the one who had lived for spontaneity and excitement before Lord Voldemort had shattered his world. Remus sighed as Sirius deepened the unexpected kiss. This moment was one of the times that Remus cherished so, one of those moments of intense, if fleeting, beauty.
They pulled away reluctantly due to the need for air, but their fingers remained intertwined. The two men stared at each other, lost in their affection for one another, oblivious to the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. The door was thrown open and Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger burst into the room, laughing about something involving Fred and George, Mad Eye Moody, a fake wand and a very real defensive hex. They abruptly stopped laughing when they saw Sirius and Remus sitting silently on the floor, staring at each other with their fingers intertwined over an antique clock.
Upon noticing Ron and Hermione they immediately separated their hands, and Sirius picked up the clock and launched into a tale of how it had contributed to his youthful misery. Remus sighed with relief as Ron and Hermione listened to Sirius’ story and began digging through the other contents of the box. When he looked up, however, Hermione smiled knowingly, and Remus felt himself turn a shade of pink as Sirius glanced at him. Ron’s expression became confused as he tried to work out what was so awkward, and all three males visibly relaxed when Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him to the door, insisting that they start clearing up a Doxy-infested study downstairs.
As soon as they had gone, Sirius and Remus looked at each other and abandoned the box. What subsequently passed between them was not perfect, but, considering the circumstances, was close enough. Remus, at least, remembered it fondly. Sirius may have hated the house, but as much as Remus felt he ought to hate it, he knew he could never hate any place where he and Sirius had been, together and, however briefly, happy.
FINIS
Cross-posted to my LJ and eventually to FFn and FA.org, if I decide it doesn't suck too much. This isn't my best work, but it was a difficult word.