To chowburger, with love
Ok... No se me va a hacer costumbre escribir en inglés. Esto es solo la traducción de ese fragmento de fic (que algún día terminaré) basado en el fanart de chowburger (fanart AQUÍ), para que la laureada artista pueda leerlo.
To chowburger, with love:
So... this is it. It's just a fragment. The actual thing would probably be quite long (still working on it).
The story is a bit strange, but it just jumped to my head while reading the strip, and... I don't know, it just makes sense to me. It's about Sirius returning from the veil, with 17 years and no conscious memory of the following years (bit of flashes, dream-like images, nightmares..). He must recover his life and adapt to the world, while he and Remus try to deal with that-which-was-always-there (but Sirius barely remembers). I'm not sure why I thought of this... it's the word 'boy', I think. It makes me wonder how would 'Professor Lupin' deal with an over-energized, 'rebel without a cause' young Padfoot.
Anyway, hope you like it ^-^.
*
(Fragment)
Sirius turned up a week ago. It feels like a month ago. It also feels like yesterday. But most of all, it feels like it never happened. Remus favours this last version of events -he can't quite see how it could have worked any other way. The Sirius now dozing peacefully on the grass is most decidedly not the same one that turned up last Saturday at obscure o'clock in the morning. That Sirius had avoided Remus' eyes as though he were the Medusa, and looked on the verge of breaking down while doing so. Sirius breaking down on the doorstep, Remus decided, would lead to a complete inability for him to ever look the boy in the eye again.
He still doesn't dare to do it -look the boy in the eye.
The boy.
Sirius, asleep on the grass -black hair barely falling on his eyes, slender body of soft curves lying randomly on the green, long fingers grazing the leaves-, doesn't look older than 17. The endless years in Azkaban, the terrible mark of the Dementors, the common weight of pain and age, have disappeared from his body. The toughened angles have smooth again, and a side of Remus longs to stare into those eyes and discover the horror has disappeared from the grey look, too... -another side, hidden and shameful, can't stand the idea of not finding the experience, the shared pain, the life, the fight, the silent promise of never abandon him again, the quiet request of company in Sirius' eyes.
Who are you? he inevitably asks himself.
It's not Sirius, his partner in loss. Not the man worn by loneliness that fell through the black veil. It's Sirius, though, the mischievous Marauder of dangerous ideas and sharp tongue, always up to get in trouble... That very morning, during breakfast, he had seen him smile wickedly at the memory of some escapade... Exact, identical, the same smile he had seen for the last time over 16 years ago. When he perceived the glint in the grey eyes -the one that always came with that smile- he had to give any excuse and leave the house.
It was 4 in the afternoon when he decided to go back, to find the boy dozing on the grass. It's reaching five and he still can't stop staring.
"Have you been here long?" he's startled by a voice at his back. A young voice that has grown too soon, a bit forcibly. A voice so resembling of James' that Remus' heart shrinks for a second.
"A bit," he responds.
Harry nods. "It's strange to see him like this. I can't imagine how strange it is to you."
No, you can't.
When Sirius fell through the veil, it wasn't as tough for Remus as everyone assumed. It wasn't the first time he lost Sirius. And, somehow, he had spent the last two years getting ready to lose him. Harry couldn't understand. The war had marked his life, but it was a starting life. The war was for him the present moment, that which was happening right now. To Remus, the war was the 'dejá vu' of a recurrent nightmare. It had taken everything from him once, and nothing made him doubt it could take it again.
Remus had lost Sirius, this Sirius of easy laugh and mischievous eyes, to something worse than dead. And even though that 'something worse', that unforgivable treason, turned out to be a scam; even though Remus could finally discover Sirius was innocent and breathe again; it didn't erase the years of suffocating loneliness, the terrible experience of waking up one day with nothing. Nothing. No past -because the treason turned his whole past into a lie. No refugee -because his refugee was precisely who had betrayed him. No family. Against that, the black veil had taken nothing but a body. And while he cried the absence of that body he so terribly missed, a corner of his mind secretly thanked the veil for allowing Sirius to die like a hero, for leaving his memory intact, for giving him the opportunity to cry freely all that he couldn't cry 16 years ago, when he lost everything for the first time.
It's strange to see him like this.
It's so strange Remus doesn't know if he can stand it.
"Remus? Is that you?" Tonks comes out to the garden. Her hair is a brilliant pink, which means she's excited. "Come in, Moody's here." She kneels down besides Sirius and shakes him gently to wake him, as if it was the most normal thing to do in the world. "Sirius... Sirius... Wake up, Moody's here." As if they weren't all trapped in a grand surrealistic prank.
Sirius stretches and yawns, and opens the grey eyes Remus avoids to look directly. He gives a lopsided smile and a wink to his nephew, whose hair becomes even brighter. Then he rises and turns to Harry with a brilliant smile that lasts but a second. And then, for a moment, he seems to be again the boy that knocked on the door last Saturday night, on the verge of collapsing in an ocean of doubt. Burning from fever. Back from the underworld.
He turns his head towards Remus, but in the end doesn't dare to look at him.
"Let's go," he says, and moves towards the door.
Harry seems uncomfortable, and Remus takes a deep breath. It must be harder for Sirius. Much, much harder than for any of them.
*
And that's it, so far. I'll keep translating as it develops.
By the way... I don't have anything in english here... but if you feel like reading something finished by me, I do have most of my stuff translated at ffn (profile here).
To chowburger, with love:
So... this is it. It's just a fragment. The actual thing would probably be quite long (still working on it).
The story is a bit strange, but it just jumped to my head while reading the strip, and... I don't know, it just makes sense to me. It's about Sirius returning from the veil, with 17 years and no conscious memory of the following years (bit of flashes, dream-like images, nightmares..). He must recover his life and adapt to the world, while he and Remus try to deal with that-which-was-always-there (but Sirius barely remembers). I'm not sure why I thought of this... it's the word 'boy', I think. It makes me wonder how would 'Professor Lupin' deal with an over-energized, 'rebel without a cause' young Padfoot.
Anyway, hope you like it ^-^.
*
(Fragment)
Sirius turned up a week ago. It feels like a month ago. It also feels like yesterday. But most of all, it feels like it never happened. Remus favours this last version of events -he can't quite see how it could have worked any other way. The Sirius now dozing peacefully on the grass is most decidedly not the same one that turned up last Saturday at obscure o'clock in the morning. That Sirius had avoided Remus' eyes as though he were the Medusa, and looked on the verge of breaking down while doing so. Sirius breaking down on the doorstep, Remus decided, would lead to a complete inability for him to ever look the boy in the eye again.
He still doesn't dare to do it -look the boy in the eye.
The boy.
Sirius, asleep on the grass -black hair barely falling on his eyes, slender body of soft curves lying randomly on the green, long fingers grazing the leaves-, doesn't look older than 17. The endless years in Azkaban, the terrible mark of the Dementors, the common weight of pain and age, have disappeared from his body. The toughened angles have smooth again, and a side of Remus longs to stare into those eyes and discover the horror has disappeared from the grey look, too... -another side, hidden and shameful, can't stand the idea of not finding the experience, the shared pain, the life, the fight, the silent promise of never abandon him again, the quiet request of company in Sirius' eyes.
Who are you? he inevitably asks himself.
It's not Sirius, his partner in loss. Not the man worn by loneliness that fell through the black veil. It's Sirius, though, the mischievous Marauder of dangerous ideas and sharp tongue, always up to get in trouble... That very morning, during breakfast, he had seen him smile wickedly at the memory of some escapade... Exact, identical, the same smile he had seen for the last time over 16 years ago. When he perceived the glint in the grey eyes -the one that always came with that smile- he had to give any excuse and leave the house.
It was 4 in the afternoon when he decided to go back, to find the boy dozing on the grass. It's reaching five and he still can't stop staring.
"Have you been here long?" he's startled by a voice at his back. A young voice that has grown too soon, a bit forcibly. A voice so resembling of James' that Remus' heart shrinks for a second.
"A bit," he responds.
Harry nods. "It's strange to see him like this. I can't imagine how strange it is to you."
No, you can't.
When Sirius fell through the veil, it wasn't as tough for Remus as everyone assumed. It wasn't the first time he lost Sirius. And, somehow, he had spent the last two years getting ready to lose him. Harry couldn't understand. The war had marked his life, but it was a starting life. The war was for him the present moment, that which was happening right now. To Remus, the war was the 'dejá vu' of a recurrent nightmare. It had taken everything from him once, and nothing made him doubt it could take it again.
Remus had lost Sirius, this Sirius of easy laugh and mischievous eyes, to something worse than dead. And even though that 'something worse', that unforgivable treason, turned out to be a scam; even though Remus could finally discover Sirius was innocent and breathe again; it didn't erase the years of suffocating loneliness, the terrible experience of waking up one day with nothing. Nothing. No past -because the treason turned his whole past into a lie. No refugee -because his refugee was precisely who had betrayed him. No family. Against that, the black veil had taken nothing but a body. And while he cried the absence of that body he so terribly missed, a corner of his mind secretly thanked the veil for allowing Sirius to die like a hero, for leaving his memory intact, for giving him the opportunity to cry freely all that he couldn't cry 16 years ago, when he lost everything for the first time.
It's strange to see him like this.
It's so strange Remus doesn't know if he can stand it.
"Remus? Is that you?" Tonks comes out to the garden. Her hair is a brilliant pink, which means she's excited. "Come in, Moody's here." She kneels down besides Sirius and shakes him gently to wake him, as if it was the most normal thing to do in the world. "Sirius... Sirius... Wake up, Moody's here." As if they weren't all trapped in a grand surrealistic prank.
Sirius stretches and yawns, and opens the grey eyes Remus avoids to look directly. He gives a lopsided smile and a wink to his nephew, whose hair becomes even brighter. Then he rises and turns to Harry with a brilliant smile that lasts but a second. And then, for a moment, he seems to be again the boy that knocked on the door last Saturday night, on the verge of collapsing in an ocean of doubt. Burning from fever. Back from the underworld.
He turns his head towards Remus, but in the end doesn't dare to look at him.
"Let's go," he says, and moves towards the door.
Harry seems uncomfortable, and Remus takes a deep breath. It must be harder for Sirius. Much, much harder than for any of them.
*
And that's it, so far. I'll keep translating as it develops.
By the way... I don't have anything in english here... but if you feel like reading something finished by me, I do have most of my stuff translated at ffn (profile here).