Who:
supercilious and
lumenrelegandusWhen: Nowadays
Where: Circuitous route to Duncan's pub, stopping at the
Memorial TreeFormat: Prose, then…?
What: Bye, Shirley.
Warnings: Men dealing with grief. (Like watching a whale knit. …No, no, these are sensitive new age guys. Maybe.)
There were two stone benches on either side of the tree. He sat on the ground anyway. He faced the side that was wall-less so he could look out at the park; and it could look back through the stained glass behind him.
A hand came first, cupping the side of the tree, followed by her footstep to circle the trunk and sit down beside him.
"Cast a patronus," she said.
He raised the wand, but it was too heavy in his hand, and he knew it wouldn't work.
She put her hand around his. The white light quickly faded, unrealised.
"Never go too long unable to cast one," said Lily. "Especially when
He put his temple against the cold metal trunk. His face was turned to nobody at his side. He murmured, "Where are you?"
Even in his imagination, he couldn't hold her there. Never the new. Only the long, long gone. He wanted to have the conversation with her. In reality. Not in projection. He could remember and remember intently but no one ever really came.
He tried it. Took out the wand she'd given him, closed his eyes, ran through every exercise he knew to simulate peacefulness, and cast. He could feel it had worked. He drank the sensation of the patronus's light against his face, willed it to every part of him, tried to accept its warming calm, couldn't quite open his eyes to see its shape. A patronus was supposed to stay static, a reflection of the caster. But his had never quite… he should have researched it more, seen if anyone else had ever… but at first he thought that was normal, and then daren't confess, since it surely reflected his own weakness of character, rejection of self, knowing only what it wasn't, malleability, desire to be an extension only of those he loved…
He kept his eyes closed, and didn't look, but he pretended. Pretended for this moment it was nothing, nobody else but a dragon of light.
Eyes still closed, he flicked the wand, redirecting.
He tracked the signature.
Quantum strings that stretched and regathered. An infrastructure of tangible energy to be shaped and made solid.
James and Sirius reached up in synchronicity to add their wands to his. "That's right. We showed you."
The light faded. He opened his eyes.
The new leaf was silver, just out of reach. When the sun hit it right, it sparkled with the light of a patronus. The nearest he'd ever gotten to her luminous magic.
Sighing, emptied to calm in spite of himself, Lupin pushed himself creakily to his feet and dusted himself off. Then continued down the hill to meet Arthur.
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OOC Notes: Oh I must do that In-Game Developments/Continuity Index for meself. Tracking all my references to things like
Also not crediting the subject/cut-text 'cause I'm positive you can identify it. But certainly can on request.