FIC: Sir Cadfish and the Quest of the Scion
“James
said…you had something to tell me,” Remus began softly, but Sirius could hear a
guarded edge to his voice. He looked up
then, and his eyes shown dimly with apprehension, blackened from the core with
a desperate hope, and a flash of determination.
Remus watched him through a soft, beseeching mask, not judging, but
requesting.
“Did he, did he say that?” Sirius answered hoarsely, voice small. “That’s all?”
Remus didn’t answer, but continued to stare at him; through him.
“Well,” Sirius said awkwardly, before stiffly moving over to sit gingerly on the edge of the bed. He fiddled with his hands a bit, pretending to examine them carefully. “You…all right?” he stole a quick glance at Remus, but couldn’t determine anything before he looked down again.
“Yeah. We’re all fine,” Remus said, patiently.
Sirius winced faintly at the implication. “Good, good. I really don’t--don’t know how to, erm, say this…”
No interruption was forthcoming from Remus.
He took a deep breath and plunged on ahead. “So I suppose I should just out and say it that…That it might’ve been my fault. Unintentionally.” Sirius cringed and dropped his head, locks of hair settling around and obscuring his face.
There was still no response from Remus.
After a few moments, Sirius slouched in defeat and poked his head up to look at Remus, bristling slightly. He drew on his restraint and took another deep breath. “You, you know…Do you-have anything to say?” he asked bluntly. “Just, you know, so I can figure out where you stand on this whole thing…And how much I’ll have to beg. And such. It’s for-for reassurance purposes, as it were.” He licked his lips. “This is quite nerve racking.”
Remus blinked at him, his expression wiped blank. He shifted underneath the sheets, and locked his gaze on the bedspread just to the right of Sirius. In a hesitant movement, his mouth opened and closed a few times as his eyes widened and seemed to brighten a bit. Sirius could tell he was thinking, and watched him closely, trying to decipher the subtle changes in expression and posture, which would be impossible for someone who had any less experience than he in trying to figure out Remus Lupin.
Remus sighed, and said in an uncertain voice, “Unintentionally?”
Sirius looked away again. “Yes. I was just…it was typical Snape and I behavior.”
“You got into a fight,” Remus said with certainty, still devoid of emotion.
“Er, yeah,” he admitted sheepishly. “And I got…well--into it--I suppose; I can’t really remember, which is so odd, but… So something may have slipped. But I didn’t…send Snape. Never.” He turned slowly and looked imploringly at his friend.
Remus’ head was down and his eyes were lowered. “No,” he said, but it sounded like it was in agreement. A few moments of silence followed where Sirius squirmed in trepidation, heart pounding incessantly. After what seemed like forever, Remus looked up, smiling, though somewhat weakly. Sirius instantly felt his stomach twist, knotting and stretching in a poignant guilt.
“You’re horribly careless,” Remus said.
A lump was lodged in Sirius throat, and he croaked around it, answering, “Quite.” He nodded and fixed his gaze on Remus, hopeful.
Their eyes met for the first time, and Sirius had to force himself to keep the contact and allow Remus to evaluate him; though he felt barren and revealed, he fought back the burn on his cheeks and let his eyes speak for themselves. For a space of time neither boy blinked nor flinched.
With the softest curve and the barest flicker, Remus’ lips merged into a sympathetic smile.
Sirius let out a soft, relieved breath which coasted across them; a murmured, silent oath between them.
“You’re incredibly daft.”
Sirius chuckled.
***
Remus wandered down the hallway after his last class of the day, mind floating off in a tranquil cloud. It had been a week since the accident at the Whomping Willow, and he still felt very inconclusive. He did believe what Sirius had told him; it had been obvious enough of his friend’s earnestness. He trusted that Sirius had said--whatever it was he had said--inadvertently, and he solemnly reflected that it was lucky one of them hadn’t slipped up worse.
Sirius was incredibly capricious and unpredictable at times, probably even to himself.
His whole understanding of the event was still, nevertheless, extremely ambiguous--including his relationship with Sirius. Something indefinable had passed between them on that early, addled morning. Sirius had acted uncharacteristically despondent and shamefaced. Remus, sensing his turmoil, had consoled him as much as he could at the time. Through a dizzied, clouded mind he had sorted his thoughts as best as possible, and had held Sirius responsible, but not worthy of immense blame.
It was still utterly inconceivable that Sirius didn’t even remember what might have led him and Snape to the subject of Remus or the willow.
Remus continued walking along, taking different paths on arbitrary whims, brushing his hand against the cool, broken surface of the castle stone. His fingertips began to tingle, skating over the grooves and ridges, and he turned a corner into a dim hallway furnished with four mounted portraits. There was a faint, distant clanking coming from the other end. As he approached, Remus’ brow furrowed in astonishment, coming upon a lone knight attempting to move his horse, which was thus far being uncooperative. As the man sweated and strained, oblivious to his company, Remus let all his worries fly from his head and allowed himself to be entertained by the bizarre knight.
Sliding to the ground in defeat, the knight huffed and pushed up the visor on his helmet to mop his forehead when he spotted Remus. Jerking in surprise and alarm, he stumbled up, frantically turning to straighten himself and unsheathe his sword. Remus, startled and taken aback, fell a few steps away, blinking in perplexity.
“Oof. Oh-oh my--there. I didn’t-blast!” The man grumbled and tripped his way to the edge of the frame. “Oi there! What dost bring thee to this lone cavern on the outskirts of the castle? State your purpose!”
Despite his words, the knight’s presentation lacked a certain authority. Fighting to hide a grin, Remus straightened himself and neutralized his expression. “Just passing through, sir knight.”
“My name, dear fellow, is Sir Cadogan!” the man proclaimed.
“Oh,” Remus said with a feigned solemnity. “I apologize, Sir Cadogan.”
“Well,” huffed Sir Cadogan, affronted. “Yes.” He turned to the side and appeared to examine his hand, crossing one arm and standing haughtily. Remus turned to leave, when Sir Cadogan perked up and made a small noise of protest. Turning around in curiosity, Remus saw him standing doubtfully, shifting and fiddling in place.
“I, er…You’re the only person I’ve seen in a while, and I was wondering, good sir, if you had any knowledge about a Sirius Black?” he asked timidly.
Stunned, Remus nodded dumbly.
“Oh. Oh good!” the knight cried in delight. Remus could only stare, his eyes wide as saucers. “So do you know how things went, then? With the Quest?” he asked eagerly.
Remus choked. “What--erm, what Quest?”
Sir Cadogan’s excitement immediately dissipated. “You don’t know--? Uhm…well, did he succeed in his wooing?”
“Wooing who?” Remus demanded, oddly stern. He found it very disappointing...and slightly dispiriting, that Sirius had a love interest and he hadn’t been told.
“Oh,” the knight mourned in a disappointed voice. “Did they not go through the willow?”
“Willow?” Remus said, in an even harsher tone. “What was he doing?”
The knight blinked in bafflement, confused about Remus’ reaction. “He had set out to win the heart of his beloved! And planned to take him through the willow! Now don’t ask me about the ‘going through’ part, he had made absolutely no sense at all, going on about pressing some knot. Pssh.”
Remus just gazed at him in wonder. Then something clicked. “Did you say…him?”
“Yes, it was another lad, who was a friend of his, I believe.”
Could have been James…but why would the Shack have significance to James? It wouldn’t. But to me…
Remus stood there staring into space, his mouth gaping open, but smiling. Suddenly he understood what had changed their relationship since that day. Everything was falling into place. Just--if Cadogan had told Remus about the Willow’s opening, then…he could have told Snape, too.
“Did you happen to see anyone since the time he told you about the willow and the time I came here?”
Sir Cadogan stood still for a moment and seemed to be working things out. “Hmm…Young Sirius came back that very night, I believe, but left in a rather strange hurry. He seemed quite forgetful-had no idea what I was talking about. My, my head did hurt like a bastard the next morn’, I had been drunk to my bones--!”
“You were drunk!” exclaimed Remus. “When he came around the second time…did he look different?”
“Well, I think maybe. One can’t exactly recall…” Sir Cadogan trailed off doubtfully.
Remus grinned. That would be Severus Snape then. And the reason Sirius had told the portrait about the willow in the first place was that…Remus’ grin grew until he thought it might split his face. How ironic.
They would have to go back later to ensure that Sir Cadogan wouldn’t really ever say something about the Willow again, but right now, there were more important things to take care of. A certain Sirius Black needed a lesson in the dangers of conversing about personal issues with nutty portraits--and possibly other things, too.
“Did he, did he say that?” Sirius answered hoarsely, voice small. “That’s all?”
Remus didn’t answer, but continued to stare at him; through him.
“Well,” Sirius said awkwardly, before stiffly moving over to sit gingerly on the edge of the bed. He fiddled with his hands a bit, pretending to examine them carefully. “You…all right?” he stole a quick glance at Remus, but couldn’t determine anything before he looked down again.
“Yeah. We’re all fine,” Remus said, patiently.
Sirius winced faintly at the implication. “Good, good. I really don’t--don’t know how to, erm, say this…”
No interruption was forthcoming from Remus.
He took a deep breath and plunged on ahead. “So I suppose I should just out and say it that…That it might’ve been my fault. Unintentionally.” Sirius cringed and dropped his head, locks of hair settling around and obscuring his face.
There was still no response from Remus.
After a few moments, Sirius slouched in defeat and poked his head up to look at Remus, bristling slightly. He drew on his restraint and took another deep breath. “You, you know…Do you-have anything to say?” he asked bluntly. “Just, you know, so I can figure out where you stand on this whole thing…And how much I’ll have to beg. And such. It’s for-for reassurance purposes, as it were.” He licked his lips. “This is quite nerve racking.”
Remus blinked at him, his expression wiped blank. He shifted underneath the sheets, and locked his gaze on the bedspread just to the right of Sirius. In a hesitant movement, his mouth opened and closed a few times as his eyes widened and seemed to brighten a bit. Sirius could tell he was thinking, and watched him closely, trying to decipher the subtle changes in expression and posture, which would be impossible for someone who had any less experience than he in trying to figure out Remus Lupin.
Remus sighed, and said in an uncertain voice, “Unintentionally?”
Sirius looked away again. “Yes. I was just…it was typical Snape and I behavior.”
“You got into a fight,” Remus said with certainty, still devoid of emotion.
“Er, yeah,” he admitted sheepishly. “And I got…well--into it--I suppose; I can’t really remember, which is so odd, but… So something may have slipped. But I didn’t…send Snape. Never.” He turned slowly and looked imploringly at his friend.
Remus’ head was down and his eyes were lowered. “No,” he said, but it sounded like it was in agreement. A few moments of silence followed where Sirius squirmed in trepidation, heart pounding incessantly. After what seemed like forever, Remus looked up, smiling, though somewhat weakly. Sirius instantly felt his stomach twist, knotting and stretching in a poignant guilt.
“You’re horribly careless,” Remus said.
A lump was lodged in Sirius throat, and he croaked around it, answering, “Quite.” He nodded and fixed his gaze on Remus, hopeful.
Their eyes met for the first time, and Sirius had to force himself to keep the contact and allow Remus to evaluate him; though he felt barren and revealed, he fought back the burn on his cheeks and let his eyes speak for themselves. For a space of time neither boy blinked nor flinched.
With the softest curve and the barest flicker, Remus’ lips merged into a sympathetic smile.
Sirius let out a soft, relieved breath which coasted across them; a murmured, silent oath between them.
“You’re incredibly daft.”
Sirius chuckled.
***
Remus wandered down the hallway after his last class of the day, mind floating off in a tranquil cloud. It had been a week since the accident at the Whomping Willow, and he still felt very inconclusive. He did believe what Sirius had told him; it had been obvious enough of his friend’s earnestness. He trusted that Sirius had said--whatever it was he had said--inadvertently, and he solemnly reflected that it was lucky one of them hadn’t slipped up worse.
Sirius was incredibly capricious and unpredictable at times, probably even to himself.
His whole understanding of the event was still, nevertheless, extremely ambiguous--including his relationship with Sirius. Something indefinable had passed between them on that early, addled morning. Sirius had acted uncharacteristically despondent and shamefaced. Remus, sensing his turmoil, had consoled him as much as he could at the time. Through a dizzied, clouded mind he had sorted his thoughts as best as possible, and had held Sirius responsible, but not worthy of immense blame.
It was still utterly inconceivable that Sirius didn’t even remember what might have led him and Snape to the subject of Remus or the willow.
Remus continued walking along, taking different paths on arbitrary whims, brushing his hand against the cool, broken surface of the castle stone. His fingertips began to tingle, skating over the grooves and ridges, and he turned a corner into a dim hallway furnished with four mounted portraits. There was a faint, distant clanking coming from the other end. As he approached, Remus’ brow furrowed in astonishment, coming upon a lone knight attempting to move his horse, which was thus far being uncooperative. As the man sweated and strained, oblivious to his company, Remus let all his worries fly from his head and allowed himself to be entertained by the bizarre knight.
Sliding to the ground in defeat, the knight huffed and pushed up the visor on his helmet to mop his forehead when he spotted Remus. Jerking in surprise and alarm, he stumbled up, frantically turning to straighten himself and unsheathe his sword. Remus, startled and taken aback, fell a few steps away, blinking in perplexity.
“Oof. Oh-oh my--there. I didn’t-blast!” The man grumbled and tripped his way to the edge of the frame. “Oi there! What dost bring thee to this lone cavern on the outskirts of the castle? State your purpose!”
Despite his words, the knight’s presentation lacked a certain authority. Fighting to hide a grin, Remus straightened himself and neutralized his expression. “Just passing through, sir knight.”
“My name, dear fellow, is Sir Cadogan!” the man proclaimed.
“Oh,” Remus said with a feigned solemnity. “I apologize, Sir Cadogan.”
“Well,” huffed Sir Cadogan, affronted. “Yes.” He turned to the side and appeared to examine his hand, crossing one arm and standing haughtily. Remus turned to leave, when Sir Cadogan perked up and made a small noise of protest. Turning around in curiosity, Remus saw him standing doubtfully, shifting and fiddling in place.
“I, er…You’re the only person I’ve seen in a while, and I was wondering, good sir, if you had any knowledge about a Sirius Black?” he asked timidly.
Stunned, Remus nodded dumbly.
“Oh. Oh good!” the knight cried in delight. Remus could only stare, his eyes wide as saucers. “So do you know how things went, then? With the Quest?” he asked eagerly.
Remus choked. “What--erm, what Quest?”
Sir Cadogan’s excitement immediately dissipated. “You don’t know--? Uhm…well, did he succeed in his wooing?”
“Wooing who?” Remus demanded, oddly stern. He found it very disappointing...and slightly dispiriting, that Sirius had a love interest and he hadn’t been told.
“Oh,” the knight mourned in a disappointed voice. “Did they not go through the willow?”
“Willow?” Remus said, in an even harsher tone. “What was he doing?”
The knight blinked in bafflement, confused about Remus’ reaction. “He had set out to win the heart of his beloved! And planned to take him through the willow! Now don’t ask me about the ‘going through’ part, he had made absolutely no sense at all, going on about pressing some knot. Pssh.”
Remus just gazed at him in wonder. Then something clicked. “Did you say…him?”
“Yes, it was another lad, who was a friend of his, I believe.”
Could have been James…but why would the Shack have significance to James? It wouldn’t. But to me…
Remus stood there staring into space, his mouth gaping open, but smiling. Suddenly he understood what had changed their relationship since that day. Everything was falling into place. Just--if Cadogan had told Remus about the Willow’s opening, then…he could have told Snape, too.
“Did you happen to see anyone since the time he told you about the willow and the time I came here?”
Sir Cadogan stood still for a moment and seemed to be working things out. “Hmm…Young Sirius came back that very night, I believe, but left in a rather strange hurry. He seemed quite forgetful-had no idea what I was talking about. My, my head did hurt like a bastard the next morn’, I had been drunk to my bones--!”
“You were drunk!” exclaimed Remus. “When he came around the second time…did he look different?”
“Well, I think maybe. One can’t exactly recall…” Sir Cadogan trailed off doubtfully.
Remus grinned. That would be Severus Snape then. And the reason Sirius had told the portrait about the willow in the first place was that…Remus’ grin grew until he thought it might split his face. How ironic.
They would have to go back later to ensure that Sir Cadogan wouldn’t really ever say something about the Willow again, but right now, there were more important things to take care of. A certain Sirius Black needed a lesson in the dangers of conversing about personal issues with nutty portraits--and possibly other things, too.