DOUBLE DRABBLE: Not Fully Happy

Nov 05, 2022 20:49

Just as I'd hoped, some pairings firmly within my comfort zone and some open requests at hp_halloween as well as the wordcount limit and the deadline helped me come up with my first humble pieces of fic since the drunken writing about an unexpectedly inspiring ghost character at the beginning of October. The tiny Ginny/Luna story I've just shared includes something I hadn't done before, young Ginny and references to CoS, although the piece is set around the PoA year's Halloween, where I continue to squeeze fics. The first treat I wrote (this one, too, for a recipient whom I don't know at all and who has not responded), however, is predictably about my damaged-by-Azkaban Sirius in 12, Grimmauld Place.

Title: Not Fully Happy
Author: paulamcg
Pairing: Sirius/Remus
Summary: In 1995 Sirius manages to remember another Halloween he shared with Remus.
Word Count: 200
Rating: G
Notes: This was written for bererjs at HP Halloween.

Read here on AO3,
or right here:


Not Fully Happy

He's rekindling my hearth fire. Leaning closer, can I be consoled, a prisoner in this grim old house?

He's brought embers from a samhain blaze, and a lit turnip lantern.

I won't join in celebrating the anniversary of the Marauders' disastrous end. But Remus insists on commemorating whom we were years before, and assumes I'll remember a full-moon Halloween.

I agree to share the meal of turnip mash Molly sent. Instead of bobbing apples, we feed each other in the way I fed him back when we were sixteen.

His hands were wrapped in bandages. To help me reach the memory, he's mentioned another not fully happy detail: Pomfrey caught me in his hospital bed. And of course, the Dementors have left more: my remorse.

I should have been there for him at moonrise. I could have skipped the feast in the Great Hall without raising suspicion. When we three Animagi arrived after curfew, he'd already gnawed his paws.

He'd transformed in solitude, and agonised worse than ever because one month earlier the wolf had run free with us for the very first time. He'd craved that freedom. Or feared?

Back then he was the one who could not remember.

fic, fests

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