Flicker
My third piece for 7spells is finally done. Now to find a prompt to use for the fourth... x.x'
Title: Flicker
Rating: PG
Pairing: Harry/Remus
Prompt: 6. One last dinner
Warnings: Dim lighting.
Word Count: 1,013
Flicker
The room wasn’t bright. In fact, it was rather dark, lit only by two small lamps along the wall that gave off only as much light as candles. He cast his eyes to the lamps, examining them as their tiny lights burned his eyes, distracted at long last when Remus coughed and set a bowl down in front of him on the long table, holding out a spoon.
Harry took it, muttering his thanks before digging into his stew; the steaming broth burning his throat as he swallowed it down, trying not to sputter. Remus sat down and for a few moments they both sipped their supper in silence, the light in the wall lamps flickering. Nearly all of Harry’s stew was gone before he finally brought up his head, gazing over at Remus.
“It’s far from over,” Remus told him.
“I know,” Harry replied. “But the biggest part is done. At least we’ve done that much. I can hardly believe it.”
“Neither can I,” Remus replied, fiddling with his spoon, picking up the last remains of his stew and then dumping it back in the bowl, again and again. Scoop. Plop. Very methodical, if he did think so himself.
“Would you like some tea? I’ve still got some in the kitchen,” Remus told him, leaving the tiny bit of stew in his bowl and picking it up. He gathered up Harry’s bowl and spoon at the other end of the table, and Harry studied Remus’s frame carefully before replying that yes, he supposed he would.
Harry walked into Remus’s living room as Remus proceeded into the kitchen, turning on his little range and filling the kettle with water from the tap before putting it on to boil. He glanced at the peeling walls around him as he made his way back to Harry, sitting down in a chair opposite the boy, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.
“Does it ever get any easier?” Harry asked suddenly, leaning forward and looking straight at Remus.
“I don’t know; I haven’t yet seen it over,” Remus responded, opening his eyes. He shrugged, closing them again.
“But what do you think it’ll be like?” Harry inquired, his eyes still digging like razors into Remus’s skin.
“Why are you… why are you asking me this?” Remus asked, looking at Harry.
“You’re what I have left. You’re who I have left to ask,” Harry asserted.
“I’m not all you have left,” Remus countered.
“No, you’re not,” Harry agreed. “But that doesn’t change things.”
Remus remained quiet, casting his gaze down at the floor.
“Remus…” Harry’s voice sounded very small. The tea kettle suddenly whistled, and Harry jumped; Remus stood up quickly and made his way to the kitchen before Harry could speak another word. Not two minutes later he was back with the kettle, two bags, two cups, two spoons and what looked to be about twenty sugar packets, all in both of his hands. He set them down on the table near the couch, and Harry reached out and touched his arm for just an instant before dropping his hand away. Remus decided to abandon the chair he’d been sitting in, and this time he sat down on the couch, next to Harry. He took up the kettle again and poured the steaming water into both cups, dropping a tea bag lightly into his own and pressing on it lightly with a spoon as the tea began to steep, swirling into the water.
Harry picked up his own cup and spoon, dropping the tea bag in and holding it there, ignoring his spoon but grabbing a sugar packet. He’d dumped in seven before Remus made a face at him, and then he stopped, settling back on the couch and staring into his tea. “When’s the last time you saw them?” Harry asked, glancing up at Remus, who took a long swig of tea from his cup before meeting Harry’s gaze.
“Just before they went into hiding with you. One last supper with everyone around the table. Your mother, your father, Sirius, Peter, and I. Dumbledore had taken you for the night; a favor to your parents. It was terrible. We all suspected each other, but no one would say a thing. Your mother cried, hugged us all goodbye, though she knew it must’ve been one of us.” Remus feel silent, averting his eyes again, and Harry placed his tea on the table, turning himself around and crawling onto Remus, encircling the man with his arms.
“I wasn’t there more than a couple of hours. Before I left, your mother took me out into the yard while everyone else was making their tea. In the dark, she asked me if I was the spy,” Remus suddenly sounded very tired, and Harry was about to ask him to stop talking about this when he continued on, “I told her no, that I understood if anyone suspected me, but that I would never, ever betray them. I don’t know whether or not she believed me that night, but she nodded and then took me inside and served dessert like nothing had happened.”
“She knows now, I think,” Harry told him, looking Remus in the eyes. “She has to, wherever she rests.”
“It’s all right even if she doesn’t. In the end, I loved both of your parents, and more grief won’t do me any good. We need to focus on the things we have, not things we’ve lost. I’ve got to do my best now with what I have now, and remembering everything I lost shouldn’t be a source of sadness, it should be a source of strength to do as well as I can with what I have left.” Remus ran his fingers through Harry’s hair, tilting his head down to smile weakly at him.
Harry reached up, letting one of his hands fall behind Remus’s head. The flickering light danced across the walls, over the peeling paper. Remus leaned in, letting himself be pulled gently forward, and kissing back softly when Harry’s lips met his own.
FIN
7spells fic 3 of 7
Title: Flicker
Rating: PG
Pairing: Harry/Remus
Prompt: 6. One last dinner
Warnings: Dim lighting.
Word Count: 1,013
Flicker
The room wasn’t bright. In fact, it was rather dark, lit only by two small lamps along the wall that gave off only as much light as candles. He cast his eyes to the lamps, examining them as their tiny lights burned his eyes, distracted at long last when Remus coughed and set a bowl down in front of him on the long table, holding out a spoon.
Harry took it, muttering his thanks before digging into his stew; the steaming broth burning his throat as he swallowed it down, trying not to sputter. Remus sat down and for a few moments they both sipped their supper in silence, the light in the wall lamps flickering. Nearly all of Harry’s stew was gone before he finally brought up his head, gazing over at Remus.
“It’s far from over,” Remus told him.
“I know,” Harry replied. “But the biggest part is done. At least we’ve done that much. I can hardly believe it.”
“Neither can I,” Remus replied, fiddling with his spoon, picking up the last remains of his stew and then dumping it back in the bowl, again and again. Scoop. Plop. Very methodical, if he did think so himself.
“Would you like some tea? I’ve still got some in the kitchen,” Remus told him, leaving the tiny bit of stew in his bowl and picking it up. He gathered up Harry’s bowl and spoon at the other end of the table, and Harry studied Remus’s frame carefully before replying that yes, he supposed he would.
Harry walked into Remus’s living room as Remus proceeded into the kitchen, turning on his little range and filling the kettle with water from the tap before putting it on to boil. He glanced at the peeling walls around him as he made his way back to Harry, sitting down in a chair opposite the boy, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.
“Does it ever get any easier?” Harry asked suddenly, leaning forward and looking straight at Remus.
“I don’t know; I haven’t yet seen it over,” Remus responded, opening his eyes. He shrugged, closing them again.
“But what do you think it’ll be like?” Harry inquired, his eyes still digging like razors into Remus’s skin.
“Why are you… why are you asking me this?” Remus asked, looking at Harry.
“You’re what I have left. You’re who I have left to ask,” Harry asserted.
“I’m not all you have left,” Remus countered.
“No, you’re not,” Harry agreed. “But that doesn’t change things.”
Remus remained quiet, casting his gaze down at the floor.
“Remus…” Harry’s voice sounded very small. The tea kettle suddenly whistled, and Harry jumped; Remus stood up quickly and made his way to the kitchen before Harry could speak another word. Not two minutes later he was back with the kettle, two bags, two cups, two spoons and what looked to be about twenty sugar packets, all in both of his hands. He set them down on the table near the couch, and Harry reached out and touched his arm for just an instant before dropping his hand away. Remus decided to abandon the chair he’d been sitting in, and this time he sat down on the couch, next to Harry. He took up the kettle again and poured the steaming water into both cups, dropping a tea bag lightly into his own and pressing on it lightly with a spoon as the tea began to steep, swirling into the water.
Harry picked up his own cup and spoon, dropping the tea bag in and holding it there, ignoring his spoon but grabbing a sugar packet. He’d dumped in seven before Remus made a face at him, and then he stopped, settling back on the couch and staring into his tea. “When’s the last time you saw them?” Harry asked, glancing up at Remus, who took a long swig of tea from his cup before meeting Harry’s gaze.
“Just before they went into hiding with you. One last supper with everyone around the table. Your mother, your father, Sirius, Peter, and I. Dumbledore had taken you for the night; a favor to your parents. It was terrible. We all suspected each other, but no one would say a thing. Your mother cried, hugged us all goodbye, though she knew it must’ve been one of us.” Remus feel silent, averting his eyes again, and Harry placed his tea on the table, turning himself around and crawling onto Remus, encircling the man with his arms.
“I wasn’t there more than a couple of hours. Before I left, your mother took me out into the yard while everyone else was making their tea. In the dark, she asked me if I was the spy,” Remus suddenly sounded very tired, and Harry was about to ask him to stop talking about this when he continued on, “I told her no, that I understood if anyone suspected me, but that I would never, ever betray them. I don’t know whether or not she believed me that night, but she nodded and then took me inside and served dessert like nothing had happened.”
“She knows now, I think,” Harry told him, looking Remus in the eyes. “She has to, wherever she rests.”
“It’s all right even if she doesn’t. In the end, I loved both of your parents, and more grief won’t do me any good. We need to focus on the things we have, not things we’ve lost. I’ve got to do my best now with what I have now, and remembering everything I lost shouldn’t be a source of sadness, it should be a source of strength to do as well as I can with what I have left.” Remus ran his fingers through Harry’s hair, tilting his head down to smile weakly at him.
Harry reached up, letting one of his hands fall behind Remus’s head. The flickering light danced across the walls, over the peeling paper. Remus leaned in, letting himself be pulled gently forward, and kissing back softly when Harry’s lips met his own.
FIN
7spells fic 3 of 7