Ficlet: Silver Bells and Cockle Shells (Remus, Sirius, Lily, James), PG
Title: Silver Bells And Cockle Shells
Author: minnow_53
Characters: Lily/James, Remus/Sirius
Summary: Remus has doubts at Lily and James’s wedding.
Rating: PG
Silver Bells And Cockle Shells
It’s impossible not to watch the clock in the waiting area, listen to it ticking the morning away.
For the past half hour, Lily and James have sat in strained silence on the tasteful, cream-upholstered couch. Remus has been reading up on wedding etiquette, and he’s pretty sure the groom shouldn’t see the bride in her dress until the ceremony. Still, there’s no point worrying about that now, especially as Lily’s wedding dress is far from traditional: pale green silk the colour of spring leaves, short, with a ragged hem.
He’s studying Lily’s legs, which he’s never seen before, as she usually wears robes or jeans. They’re slim and quite shapely but a bit muscular, and not good enough to distract him from the clock. And nothing ever distracts him from Sirius, who’s perched on the couch next to James, protective, as befits a best man.
‘Legs look great, Evans,’ Sirius says, obviously amused by Remus’s fixation.
Sirius could have saved his breath, because Lily doesn’t seem to hear him. Right now, she’s miles away, absent-mindedly pulling apart one of the white lilies in her bouquet. She’s left her long hair loose, and it falls over her face like a veil.
Normally, James gets the compliments in first, but he probably doesn’t have a clue what Lily’s wearing: he’s staring at the flower prints on the wall opposite, his mouth slightly open.
‘Lucky we didn’t have a stag night,’ Sirius says. ‘Imagine if Prongs was hung-over too.’ His voice sounds unusually loud in the small room, and Lily’s sister, whose name Remus has forgotten, frowns and shushes him.
She and Lily’s best friend, Zoe, are bridesmaids. The sister is done up in an elaborate frilled concoction of baby blue, but her hair looks nice, curling softly at her temples. Remus, on consideration, decides she’s quite attractive, if nothing like Lily. And nothing like Zoe, who’s always fancied Remus but never had any encouragement from him, though she’s a beautiful girl. The three of them remind him of a nursery rhyme, Pretty maids all in a row. How does the rest go? With silver bells and cockle shells. Or wedding bells, in this case. Of course, there won’t be any wedding bells at a civil ceremony.
Sirius continues to keep a solicitous eye on his charge, who’s not only catatonic but starting to turn green, just two or three shades paler than Lily’s dress. However, he also glances over at Remus from time to time. Sirius has an endearingly transparent face, and can’t stop the edges of his mouth curling up whenever he meets Remus’s eye. Remus can easily read his mind, which runs along predictable lines; in fact, Sirius might as well be mouthing ‘Later’ for all the subtlety of his body-language. Remus feels uncomfortably warm at the thought of later; the same way he feels when Sirius, in one of his spontaneous outbursts of affection, mentions the word love.
He tries to imagine that he and Sirius are about to be joined together forever, but the pictures won’t come. He can only conjure up a girl in green silk, a nervous boy with glasses. The registrar’s running an hour late and the pair of them could be at a Muggle dentist for all the joy they’re feeling, but in a year’s time they’ll look back and remember what a wonderful day it was.
He’d like to get married too, he thinks, a bit fiercely, properly married, to a girl; perhaps to Zoe. He’d like to be sitting next to her, tucking away the stray lock of hair where her fringe hasn’t quite grown out. He and Zoe would have a real wedding, not a rushed wartime do. Zoe would wear a long white dress and satin shoes. They’d have bells, silver bells, and photographs of the beaming bride and groom. His mother would cry, and his father would stop regarding him with that faintly bemused expression, as if he knows what Remus gets up to and can’t understand where he’s gone wrong.
For a moment, Remus feels intensely ashamed of himself and Sirius; of what they do, what they are. He takes a deep breath, then another, struggling to control his panic.
The registrar’s door opens to disgorge the previous wedding party, an older couple flanked by various relatives, all laughing and talking. Lily and James rise to their feet and clutch each other’s hands so tightly that their knuckles go white.
A receptionist ushers them in. Sirius puts his arm round Remus’s shoulder and allows it to linger a fraction longer than a mere friend would. ‘Okay?’ he asks.
‘Fine.’ Remus attempts a smile.
‘Good. You were giving me a filthy look back there. Well, wish me luck.’ Sirius takes his place beside James, and the ceremony begins.
Poll
Author: minnow_53
Characters: Lily/James, Remus/Sirius
Summary: Remus has doubts at Lily and James’s wedding.
Rating: PG
Silver Bells And Cockle Shells
It’s impossible not to watch the clock in the waiting area, listen to it ticking the morning away.
For the past half hour, Lily and James have sat in strained silence on the tasteful, cream-upholstered couch. Remus has been reading up on wedding etiquette, and he’s pretty sure the groom shouldn’t see the bride in her dress until the ceremony. Still, there’s no point worrying about that now, especially as Lily’s wedding dress is far from traditional: pale green silk the colour of spring leaves, short, with a ragged hem.
He’s studying Lily’s legs, which he’s never seen before, as she usually wears robes or jeans. They’re slim and quite shapely but a bit muscular, and not good enough to distract him from the clock. And nothing ever distracts him from Sirius, who’s perched on the couch next to James, protective, as befits a best man.
‘Legs look great, Evans,’ Sirius says, obviously amused by Remus’s fixation.
Sirius could have saved his breath, because Lily doesn’t seem to hear him. Right now, she’s miles away, absent-mindedly pulling apart one of the white lilies in her bouquet. She’s left her long hair loose, and it falls over her face like a veil.
Normally, James gets the compliments in first, but he probably doesn’t have a clue what Lily’s wearing: he’s staring at the flower prints on the wall opposite, his mouth slightly open.
‘Lucky we didn’t have a stag night,’ Sirius says. ‘Imagine if Prongs was hung-over too.’ His voice sounds unusually loud in the small room, and Lily’s sister, whose name Remus has forgotten, frowns and shushes him.
She and Lily’s best friend, Zoe, are bridesmaids. The sister is done up in an elaborate frilled concoction of baby blue, but her hair looks nice, curling softly at her temples. Remus, on consideration, decides she’s quite attractive, if nothing like Lily. And nothing like Zoe, who’s always fancied Remus but never had any encouragement from him, though she’s a beautiful girl. The three of them remind him of a nursery rhyme, Pretty maids all in a row. How does the rest go? With silver bells and cockle shells. Or wedding bells, in this case. Of course, there won’t be any wedding bells at a civil ceremony.
Sirius continues to keep a solicitous eye on his charge, who’s not only catatonic but starting to turn green, just two or three shades paler than Lily’s dress. However, he also glances over at Remus from time to time. Sirius has an endearingly transparent face, and can’t stop the edges of his mouth curling up whenever he meets Remus’s eye. Remus can easily read his mind, which runs along predictable lines; in fact, Sirius might as well be mouthing ‘Later’ for all the subtlety of his body-language. Remus feels uncomfortably warm at the thought of later; the same way he feels when Sirius, in one of his spontaneous outbursts of affection, mentions the word love.
He tries to imagine that he and Sirius are about to be joined together forever, but the pictures won’t come. He can only conjure up a girl in green silk, a nervous boy with glasses. The registrar’s running an hour late and the pair of them could be at a Muggle dentist for all the joy they’re feeling, but in a year’s time they’ll look back and remember what a wonderful day it was.
He’d like to get married too, he thinks, a bit fiercely, properly married, to a girl; perhaps to Zoe. He’d like to be sitting next to her, tucking away the stray lock of hair where her fringe hasn’t quite grown out. He and Zoe would have a real wedding, not a rushed wartime do. Zoe would wear a long white dress and satin shoes. They’d have bells, silver bells, and photographs of the beaming bride and groom. His mother would cry, and his father would stop regarding him with that faintly bemused expression, as if he knows what Remus gets up to and can’t understand where he’s gone wrong.
For a moment, Remus feels intensely ashamed of himself and Sirius; of what they do, what they are. He takes a deep breath, then another, struggling to control his panic.
The registrar’s door opens to disgorge the previous wedding party, an older couple flanked by various relatives, all laughing and talking. Lily and James rise to their feet and clutch each other’s hands so tightly that their knuckles go white.
A receptionist ushers them in. Sirius puts his arm round Remus’s shoulder and allows it to linger a fraction longer than a mere friend would. ‘Okay?’ he asks.
‘Fine.’ Remus attempts a smile.
‘Good. You were giving me a filthy look back there. Well, wish me luck.’ Sirius takes his place beside James, and the ceremony begins.
Poll