L'église d'Auvers
Title: L'église d'Auvers
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Word Count: 701
Warnings: Language and... blasphemy?!?
Authors notes: Written for lookitsaprongs for fandomcommerce's fic exchange, with the prompt of stairway/Bible/"Goddamnit".
The title comes from a van Gogh painting, called A Church at Auvers. I've been completely taken by it, ever since I saw it at the Musée d'Orsay in Paris. So this fic is mostly a manifestation of everything I feel when I see that painting. So yeah, this story means a lot to me.
Through the foggy haze of the morning, in the outskirts of Carlisle, two men made their way up to a small, white chapel. The building was no taller than two stories, very petite and polite. Its windows were round and had the icy pallor of morning's fresh, dewy breath.
Remus shivered in the cold and pulled out a fag from his coat pocket. His companion shook his head slightly and said, "We're almost there."
Remus gave Sirius a fleeting glance. "I'll put it out." He placed the fag gently between two weathered lips, and lit it. Sirius watched Remus as his chest sunk and smoke left his mouth in an exhale.
The wet, grassy knoll folded itself around the men's shoes and stretched out until Remus and Sirius found themselves at the main door of the chapel. Remus let the fag drop from his fingers and stepped on it, grinding the butt into the ground with his heel.
"I used to love this place," Sirius said, pushing the door open. "I used to run away, sometimes, you know that..."
Remus nodded sagely. "A little far to run, don't you think?"
"Nah. Pollus and Irma used to live nearby."
Inside, the floors were white marble. The pews were cracked, old and wooden; they smelled of age. The air inside laid heavy on Remus's shoulders and a strange, familiar crest of discomfort wormed its way back into his mind. He suddenly felt as if he had entered a different world entirely. This place was unfamiliar, full of corners and customs he had no wariness of. There was only so much that could be learned from a book. Or, for that matter, a Bible. No, his feelings towards the chapel--everything the chapel came to represent--transcended discomfort, it bordered dislike. It was a fear of the unknown.
Sirius touched Remus's shoulder lightly and walked up to the altar, where a cross stood solemn and quiet. Sirius gazed into the eyes of the porcelain figure affixed to the cross. He turned to Remus and beckoned him forward. With hesitation, Remus approached him and slipped his hand in Sirius's.
"Never knew you were the religious type," Remus whispered.
Sirius chuckled. "I'm not. Not really. Just for this place."
"Why?" Remus asked suddenly. The word came out alone, stark and naked and loud in the midst of the quiet, awkward chapel.
"I discovered this place when I was eight... or maybe seven, it doesn't matter. We used to visit my grandparents' house and sometimes, when visiting the Most Noble and Ancient House of Pollus and Irma--"
"--Terrible names for the Most Noble and Ancient, I think--"
"--Given. But when I was there, I found that the rest of my family was veritably unsufferable as well. So one night, while everyone was at dinner, I tiptoed up the stairway, crawled out the window, and made my way through the town. And I don't exactly remember how, even though I remember walking out of the town, but I ended up here after a long time. Couple hours, maybe. I remember coming to this exact spot and wondering how it was that someone could be forgiven, despite all of their wrongdoings and all of their crimes."
"Never knew you were the religious type."
"I'm not. Not really." Sirius lifted his head to stare at the figure of the Savior before him. "Whenever I see a Death Eater murder one of our own, I always remember that he died for our sins. Fuck Jesus, but no one can do that. Sin is human, sin is the only thing that keeps us human. If we're forgiven, we don't learn. We can't live with the weight of our mistakes."
Remus gripped Sirius's hand tighter and laid his head on Sirius's shoulder. "Goddamnit, Sirius. Sometimes I don't know what to do with you."
The two men held each other in front of the altar, each knowing that the person they held in their arms would only be there for a little while longer, that they could kiss his lips only for a moment, before the inevitable whirlwind of life would sweep them away from each other.
Outside the chapel, the wind howled ominously.
FIN.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Word Count: 701
Warnings: Language and... blasphemy?!?
Authors notes: Written for lookitsaprongs for fandomcommerce's fic exchange, with the prompt of stairway/Bible/"Goddamnit".
The title comes from a van Gogh painting, called A Church at Auvers. I've been completely taken by it, ever since I saw it at the Musée d'Orsay in Paris. So this fic is mostly a manifestation of everything I feel when I see that painting. So yeah, this story means a lot to me.
Through the foggy haze of the morning, in the outskirts of Carlisle, two men made their way up to a small, white chapel. The building was no taller than two stories, very petite and polite. Its windows were round and had the icy pallor of morning's fresh, dewy breath.
Remus shivered in the cold and pulled out a fag from his coat pocket. His companion shook his head slightly and said, "We're almost there."
Remus gave Sirius a fleeting glance. "I'll put it out." He placed the fag gently between two weathered lips, and lit it. Sirius watched Remus as his chest sunk and smoke left his mouth in an exhale.
The wet, grassy knoll folded itself around the men's shoes and stretched out until Remus and Sirius found themselves at the main door of the chapel. Remus let the fag drop from his fingers and stepped on it, grinding the butt into the ground with his heel.
"I used to love this place," Sirius said, pushing the door open. "I used to run away, sometimes, you know that..."
Remus nodded sagely. "A little far to run, don't you think?"
"Nah. Pollus and Irma used to live nearby."
Inside, the floors were white marble. The pews were cracked, old and wooden; they smelled of age. The air inside laid heavy on Remus's shoulders and a strange, familiar crest of discomfort wormed its way back into his mind. He suddenly felt as if he had entered a different world entirely. This place was unfamiliar, full of corners and customs he had no wariness of. There was only so much that could be learned from a book. Or, for that matter, a Bible. No, his feelings towards the chapel--everything the chapel came to represent--transcended discomfort, it bordered dislike. It was a fear of the unknown.
Sirius touched Remus's shoulder lightly and walked up to the altar, where a cross stood solemn and quiet. Sirius gazed into the eyes of the porcelain figure affixed to the cross. He turned to Remus and beckoned him forward. With hesitation, Remus approached him and slipped his hand in Sirius's.
"Never knew you were the religious type," Remus whispered.
Sirius chuckled. "I'm not. Not really. Just for this place."
"Why?" Remus asked suddenly. The word came out alone, stark and naked and loud in the midst of the quiet, awkward chapel.
"I discovered this place when I was eight... or maybe seven, it doesn't matter. We used to visit my grandparents' house and sometimes, when visiting the Most Noble and Ancient House of Pollus and Irma--"
"--Terrible names for the Most Noble and Ancient, I think--"
"--Given. But when I was there, I found that the rest of my family was veritably unsufferable as well. So one night, while everyone was at dinner, I tiptoed up the stairway, crawled out the window, and made my way through the town. And I don't exactly remember how, even though I remember walking out of the town, but I ended up here after a long time. Couple hours, maybe. I remember coming to this exact spot and wondering how it was that someone could be forgiven, despite all of their wrongdoings and all of their crimes."
"Never knew you were the religious type."
"I'm not. Not really." Sirius lifted his head to stare at the figure of the Savior before him. "Whenever I see a Death Eater murder one of our own, I always remember that he died for our sins. Fuck Jesus, but no one can do that. Sin is human, sin is the only thing that keeps us human. If we're forgiven, we don't learn. We can't live with the weight of our mistakes."
Remus gripped Sirius's hand tighter and laid his head on Sirius's shoulder. "Goddamnit, Sirius. Sometimes I don't know what to do with you."
The two men held each other in front of the altar, each knowing that the person they held in their arms would only be there for a little while longer, that they could kiss his lips only for a moment, before the inevitable whirlwind of life would sweep them away from each other.
Outside the chapel, the wind howled ominously.
FIN.