Standing on the Edge of Something Much Too Deep
Date: Monday, 11 June, 2001
Time: late evening
Location: Hogwarts
Characters Involved:Remus Lupin and Stella Sinistra, maybe others, ping one of us if you'd like to join. :-)
Rating: PGish I should think
Closing the book into which he'd just attempted to work out some of the conflicting emotions tearing him apart, Remus stared out across the rocky highlands of Scotland. It was evening, but the summer sun had not yet fully set.
He often found himself up on this tower since he had begun teaching at the school again. It was a good place to sit and think without being disturbed since no one came up here except on evenings when Stella was holding lessons. And, even then, after lessons were over, those with the need would find an empty tower once more. It helped him to be up here away from everything, the busy activity of the castle during exam time. His only company was the wind and if he fancied he heard a gentle laugh upon that, well, he could say it was only in his head, after all.
The first day returning to the school had been immeasurably long. Students and professors gave him a wide berth, though whether it was from fear at the picture of werewolves the Prophet had painted with its descriptions of Mandy's supposed crime, or that uncomfortable distance others put around a person who was grieving when those others knew not what to say or do to comfort them, Remus couldn't have said.
For much of the weekend, the house had seemed as much a tomb as any they might have lain Mandy to rest in had they been alllowed. Glamis was still not speaking to anyone. Zak had buried himself in the kitchen, baking treats to go along with the rest of the food several of their friends had sent over. Severus, June, himself, they had all done what they could to cope. In his own part, Remus felt it was now his duty to remain strong for the others, to be a pillar for the others to lean on. He played gracious host to any who stopped by to leave their condolences, spent a few hours each night responding to the outpouring of sympathy directed their way in the journals, and in general locked his own grief away to be dealt with 'later'. Only in sleep, when he clung desperately to Severus as he dreamed, did he give any sign of not being 'okay'.
Even during that day, he felt as though he was forced to put on a facade, show only his brave face. It felt as though he were walking on eggshells. Show too much emotion and seem weak or unstable, show too little and seem cold and unfeeling. He had skipped meals in the Great Hall to avoid the curious, or even fearful, glances he knew would come his way, grateful to have only the youngest students to teach that day, first through third years who might not understand what was happening in the adult world around them.
And now, he sat on the edge of the tower wall, trying to remember if Stella had lessons that evening...trying to hide from the gaping hole in his heart where a gentle, intelligent young woman had once lived.
Time: late evening
Location: Hogwarts
Characters Involved:Remus Lupin and Stella Sinistra, maybe others, ping one of us if you'd like to join. :-)
Rating: PGish I should think
Closing the book into which he'd just attempted to work out some of the conflicting emotions tearing him apart, Remus stared out across the rocky highlands of Scotland. It was evening, but the summer sun had not yet fully set.
He often found himself up on this tower since he had begun teaching at the school again. It was a good place to sit and think without being disturbed since no one came up here except on evenings when Stella was holding lessons. And, even then, after lessons were over, those with the need would find an empty tower once more. It helped him to be up here away from everything, the busy activity of the castle during exam time. His only company was the wind and if he fancied he heard a gentle laugh upon that, well, he could say it was only in his head, after all.
The first day returning to the school had been immeasurably long. Students and professors gave him a wide berth, though whether it was from fear at the picture of werewolves the Prophet had painted with its descriptions of Mandy's supposed crime, or that uncomfortable distance others put around a person who was grieving when those others knew not what to say or do to comfort them, Remus couldn't have said.
For much of the weekend, the house had seemed as much a tomb as any they might have lain Mandy to rest in had they been alllowed. Glamis was still not speaking to anyone. Zak had buried himself in the kitchen, baking treats to go along with the rest of the food several of their friends had sent over. Severus, June, himself, they had all done what they could to cope. In his own part, Remus felt it was now his duty to remain strong for the others, to be a pillar for the others to lean on. He played gracious host to any who stopped by to leave their condolences, spent a few hours each night responding to the outpouring of sympathy directed their way in the journals, and in general locked his own grief away to be dealt with 'later'. Only in sleep, when he clung desperately to Severus as he dreamed, did he give any sign of not being 'okay'.
Even during that day, he felt as though he was forced to put on a facade, show only his brave face. It felt as though he were walking on eggshells. Show too much emotion and seem weak or unstable, show too little and seem cold and unfeeling. He had skipped meals in the Great Hall to avoid the curious, or even fearful, glances he knew would come his way, grateful to have only the youngest students to teach that day, first through third years who might not understand what was happening in the adult world around them.
And now, he sat on the edge of the tower wall, trying to remember if Stella had lessons that evening...trying to hide from the gaping hole in his heart where a gentle, intelligent young woman had once lived.