HP fic: "Growing Old"
Growing Old
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG
Characters: Sirius, Remus
Spoilers: Through OotP
Summary: This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. Remus remembers.
Lily and James were supposed to grow old together, not him and Sirius. They figured this out, when they were in school but it was already clear that there was going to be a war and that they probably wouldn’t all make it. A Hugglepuff had died. She hadn’t been the first to fall, not even the first they knew, but he’d dated her, sixth year. Just for a few weeks, but long enough for them to know her, to think of her as one of the gang. So they worked it out. They’d leave school, and Lily and James would go get married and have lots of children and “Peter’ll probably be their housekeeper or something, ‘cos you know he won’t leave James.”
“Shut up, Padfoot.”
“It’s true, and don’t call me that anymore,” said Sirius, flipping his hair and grinning. “Anyhow, you and me, mate, we’ll get ourselves killed in battle as soon as Dumbledore’ll let us fight, just you watch. We’ll be martyrs, you and me.”
“I want to be a martyr too,” whinged Peter, like they were playing some game as if when they were really young, before they’d found sophistication.
“Well, you’re too daft. No one will ever let you fight or do any important jobs. You’ll probably be left counting frog spleens for the new charms professor or something.”
“I will not.”
“Oh, come off it, boys. Look. Do you think he’s asked her yet?”
And following his direction, they all stared at the lakefront, where Lily and James had been sitting for the last two hours.
“He hasn’t got the balls,” said Sirius authoritatively. “Not tonight, anyhow. We’ll have to give him another round of encouragement later, when he comes back to the room.”
“Let’s go now. If he doesn’t ask her, what’s the point?”
“I think it’s romantic. Someday, Wormtail, you’ll fall in love, and then you’ll want to know what a proposal looks like.”
“He won’t find out from watching James, that’s for sure.” It was true that whenever he was around Lily Evans, James started to stutter something awful, but Remus was sure that’s what love was going to be like. He watched the couple closely. Sirius was getting agitated; he’d joined Peter in demanding that they go back and do something fun for once other than spying on James yet again.
“I like spying. I ‘spect when we join the war, I’ll be a spy. ‘Spect I’ll get myself killed, just like you, Sirius.”
“That’s right, Moony. We’ll get ourselves killed, and Lily and James will tell their grandkids about the Great War and how his best mates nobly sacrificed themselves to make the Wizarding World safe for them.”
“What do you expect they’ll name their children?”
“Sirius and Remus probably. And Peter, too, if they have three,” added Sirius generously. He made a dramatic swooning gesture. “Ah, love, isn’t it grand?” Then they all shut up with amazement; James had finally gotten down on his knees, and though they couldn’t hear, they could clearly see that Lily was laughing, was offering him a hand, was sure enough kissing him, and the three let out a collective sigh of relief.
“She said yes,” said Peter. “Lily and James are getting married!”
Sirius grabbed his friends’ hands and danced in a circle. “Getting married getting married getting married!” he shouted, and James shot them a glance; they’d been discovered. The three took off racing, and Remus thought if it weren’t for Lily, the others would probably have transformed and had a proper chase. But they were caught, and James tackled Sirius, who dragged Remus down with him, and they were a pile of sweaty boys on a hot evening late in May.
“And you’re marrying into this,” Remus said to Lily, conversationally. “You must be off your rocker.”
“I think I am,” she said, and smiled affectionately. “Definitely not sane.”
“What’re you thinking about, Moony?”
“Eh?” He’s distracted now. “Oh. About James and Lily. The night he proposed to her.”
“Ah,” says Sirius, and sighs.
“We were idiots, wanting to go off and fight and get ourselves killed.”
“Nah. I’d do it now, if they’d just let me out of the house.”
“No need for that. There’ve been enough martyrs in this war.”
“I don’t care. And he still isn’t dead. Until he’s dead, until they’re avenged…”
“You’ll stay right here, taking notes for me, like you promised. There will be no more tragic deaths.” There is a strength in his voice that surprises even him. But he doesn’t want Sirius dead. “We were young and stupid. We’ve grown up.”
“You’ve gotten tired maybe, Moony. Not grown up. Never.”
“They were supposed to grow old together, remember? And tell their grandkids about us.”
“Yeah, I remember. What made you think of that?”
“Us. Sitting around, telling Harry about when we were younger, about the wedding ring he left to whichever of his friends wasn’t a bloody traitor…”
“Those words were in his will?”
“Yeah.”
“And you were the only one left.”
“Harry will be quite the heir when he turns eighteen.”
“Do you think we’ll make it to then?”
“I told you, Sirius, we’re going to grow old together, you and I. We’ll be old and boring and tell stories about our wild and daring youth.” And with a sigh, he closes the photo album with its pictures of smiling Hogwarts students and looks at Sirius’s ragged hair and the hungry look that will never disappear, no matter how much he’s fed.
“Growing old together my aunt Andromeda. We’re going to go out in a blaze of glory, like I’ve always said.”
“A blaze of glory, Sirius?”
“That’s right! Death to the Death Eaters and up with the good and down with the bad and hurrah for Muggle-borns and all. Growing old together? You’re round the bend, Moony.”
He thinks about how they must look from the outside, two men gone grey before their time, looking at artifacts of a time when they were strong and clever and ambitious and talking about their long-dead friends.
“You’re right,” he says quietly. “We can’t grow old together, Sirius, because we’re already there.”
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG
Characters: Sirius, Remus
Spoilers: Through OotP
Summary: This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. Remus remembers.
Lily and James were supposed to grow old together, not him and Sirius. They figured this out, when they were in school but it was already clear that there was going to be a war and that they probably wouldn’t all make it. A Hugglepuff had died. She hadn’t been the first to fall, not even the first they knew, but he’d dated her, sixth year. Just for a few weeks, but long enough for them to know her, to think of her as one of the gang. So they worked it out. They’d leave school, and Lily and James would go get married and have lots of children and “Peter’ll probably be their housekeeper or something, ‘cos you know he won’t leave James.”
“Shut up, Padfoot.”
“It’s true, and don’t call me that anymore,” said Sirius, flipping his hair and grinning. “Anyhow, you and me, mate, we’ll get ourselves killed in battle as soon as Dumbledore’ll let us fight, just you watch. We’ll be martyrs, you and me.”
“I want to be a martyr too,” whinged Peter, like they were playing some game as if when they were really young, before they’d found sophistication.
“Well, you’re too daft. No one will ever let you fight or do any important jobs. You’ll probably be left counting frog spleens for the new charms professor or something.”
“I will not.”
“Oh, come off it, boys. Look. Do you think he’s asked her yet?”
And following his direction, they all stared at the lakefront, where Lily and James had been sitting for the last two hours.
“He hasn’t got the balls,” said Sirius authoritatively. “Not tonight, anyhow. We’ll have to give him another round of encouragement later, when he comes back to the room.”
“Let’s go now. If he doesn’t ask her, what’s the point?”
“I think it’s romantic. Someday, Wormtail, you’ll fall in love, and then you’ll want to know what a proposal looks like.”
“He won’t find out from watching James, that’s for sure.” It was true that whenever he was around Lily Evans, James started to stutter something awful, but Remus was sure that’s what love was going to be like. He watched the couple closely. Sirius was getting agitated; he’d joined Peter in demanding that they go back and do something fun for once other than spying on James yet again.
“I like spying. I ‘spect when we join the war, I’ll be a spy. ‘Spect I’ll get myself killed, just like you, Sirius.”
“That’s right, Moony. We’ll get ourselves killed, and Lily and James will tell their grandkids about the Great War and how his best mates nobly sacrificed themselves to make the Wizarding World safe for them.”
“What do you expect they’ll name their children?”
“Sirius and Remus probably. And Peter, too, if they have three,” added Sirius generously. He made a dramatic swooning gesture. “Ah, love, isn’t it grand?” Then they all shut up with amazement; James had finally gotten down on his knees, and though they couldn’t hear, they could clearly see that Lily was laughing, was offering him a hand, was sure enough kissing him, and the three let out a collective sigh of relief.
“She said yes,” said Peter. “Lily and James are getting married!”
Sirius grabbed his friends’ hands and danced in a circle. “Getting married getting married getting married!” he shouted, and James shot them a glance; they’d been discovered. The three took off racing, and Remus thought if it weren’t for Lily, the others would probably have transformed and had a proper chase. But they were caught, and James tackled Sirius, who dragged Remus down with him, and they were a pile of sweaty boys on a hot evening late in May.
“And you’re marrying into this,” Remus said to Lily, conversationally. “You must be off your rocker.”
“I think I am,” she said, and smiled affectionately. “Definitely not sane.”
“What’re you thinking about, Moony?”
“Eh?” He’s distracted now. “Oh. About James and Lily. The night he proposed to her.”
“Ah,” says Sirius, and sighs.
“We were idiots, wanting to go off and fight and get ourselves killed.”
“Nah. I’d do it now, if they’d just let me out of the house.”
“No need for that. There’ve been enough martyrs in this war.”
“I don’t care. And he still isn’t dead. Until he’s dead, until they’re avenged…”
“You’ll stay right here, taking notes for me, like you promised. There will be no more tragic deaths.” There is a strength in his voice that surprises even him. But he doesn’t want Sirius dead. “We were young and stupid. We’ve grown up.”
“You’ve gotten tired maybe, Moony. Not grown up. Never.”
“They were supposed to grow old together, remember? And tell their grandkids about us.”
“Yeah, I remember. What made you think of that?”
“Us. Sitting around, telling Harry about when we were younger, about the wedding ring he left to whichever of his friends wasn’t a bloody traitor…”
“Those words were in his will?”
“Yeah.”
“And you were the only one left.”
“Harry will be quite the heir when he turns eighteen.”
“Do you think we’ll make it to then?”
“I told you, Sirius, we’re going to grow old together, you and I. We’ll be old and boring and tell stories about our wild and daring youth.” And with a sigh, he closes the photo album with its pictures of smiling Hogwarts students and looks at Sirius’s ragged hair and the hungry look that will never disappear, no matter how much he’s fed.
“Growing old together my aunt Andromeda. We’re going to go out in a blaze of glory, like I’ve always said.”
“A blaze of glory, Sirius?”
“That’s right! Death to the Death Eaters and up with the good and down with the bad and hurrah for Muggle-borns and all. Growing old together? You’re round the bend, Moony.”
He thinks about how they must look from the outside, two men gone grey before their time, looking at artifacts of a time when they were strong and clever and ambitious and talking about their long-dead friends.
“You’re right,” he says quietly. “We can’t grow old together, Sirius, because we’re already there.”