Remus Lupin, Pensieve Memory, Early Summer 1997
Name: Remus Lupin
Format: Pensieve Memory
Date: Early Summer 1997
Relevance: Proof of a first meeting that led to a friendship and Lockhart's induction into the Order.
RP'ed with the lovely, duelingdandy!
Remus hated hospitals. He'd spent far too much time in them as a boy. Mediwizards poking and prodding him, speaking to his parents as though he could not possibly understand the intricacies of his lycanthropy. And then there were the promises made to him. A cure was on the way. That the scars would heal seamlessly. That he could live a semi normal life. Remus learned fairly early that doctors and scientists were not to be trusted. Still, since his childhood had been less than ideal, Remus endeavoured to visit the newly bitten at St Mungo's as they were admitted. The stigma of being a lycan was harder to bear when you were younger, and Remus thought that even a little of his time would do a world of good.
There were two new admits this week, and after such a disheartening visit, Remus knew he would need something to cheer himself up. Stopping by the hospital's gift shop, he stocked up on tins of Bertram's Better Butter Biscuits (chocolate covered, of course), opening one mid aisle. Head down, Remus didn't see the blond gentleman until he'd smacked into him, spilling the contents of the tin. Biscuit in mouth, Remus went to thank the man who had stopped to help him, nearly choking when he saw the golden curls and brighter than bright smile.
Little aftershocks of memory were slowly coming back, not that Gilderoy was going to let on to that fact. No, not if half of what he'd heard or even suspected were true. He could be tried for thievery and memory tampering and... right. All of that was not good, not to mention the strange memories he was having of a Dark Lord who was in the papers quite often. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but one thing his shrewd sense of self-preservation did tell him was that letting on that he knew too much wouldn't be good for his health.
Still, when he bumbled into a face that was oddly familiar and yet... not remembered entirely on friendly terms, he stopped to help him pick up his things. There wasn't a lot waiting for him back in his room, plus he found if he bent over enough, eventually someone might visit him. Not that it meant anything, but at least it was a little less lonely for a little bit.
He batted his lashes at the gentleman. "Oh dear me! I do seem to have made a mess. All of your lovely biscuits on the floor. Here, let me help you, dovelet."
Dovelet? he mouthed, inhaling shortbread crumbs. He was going to need a good whack on the back not to choke now. Gilderoy Lockhart had just called him the silliest name ever. Hopefully, no one else had heard this. "Thank you, Mr Lockhart, but uh, should you be out of bed? I'd be more than happy to escort you back to your room. For an autograph, perhaps?" he added, hoping to coax him effortlessly.
"You know me?" But, of course, he shouldn't be surprised at this. Of course this man knew him. He was famous. And infamous. But he was trying to get him back to his room and Gilderoy wasn't going to have objections to that in the slightest. He knew blue was a good colour for him, and really, the open backed smock really did help him make friends easily. "Oh certainly. An autograph," he said, winking lasciviously.
"But of course I do," he grinned, waving off the orderlies who were dispatched to come and retrieve Lockhart. "Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile. Magical Me. Wasn't there a spot for a tooth paste commercial, too?" He took Gilderoy by the arm after glimpsing more of Lockhart's backside than he'd wanted. "Let's see if we can't get you into one of your lilac robes, Mr Lockhart. Those hospital gowns are a bit too, well, breezy, if you catch my meaning."
"Lilac! You know my favourite colour! Oh but of course you do. You sound like quite the admirer... Mr..." leaving that blank, Gilderoy swirled his wrist, letting his fingers splay out in an extravagant gesture. He pulled Remus into his room, which was piled high with signed and unsigned photographs, the walls littered with posters of Gilderoy Lockhart in his prime and flowers in every space in between. "Sorry for the mess. I hardly get company... but the bed is pretty clear," he said, winking as he reached over to close the door.
Lockhart had a shrine to himself. And the colours? Those were part seventies tribute, part pastel regurgitation. Picking up an unautographed photo, Remus handed it to Lockhart with a smile. "Lupin. Remus Lupin. Your biggest fan, yes." Remus eyed the bed and then eyed the solitary chair in the corner of the room. He didn't think there was room enough on the bed for Lockhart, his ego and himself, so he opted for the chair, using his wand to drag it closer. Settling into the chair, Remus watched as Lockhart signed his name in loopy, fanciful writing, unabashedly proud of his celebrity. "So, Mr Lockhart, you've been here for quite some time. Do you remember what brought you here?"
It was slightly distressing that the man sat in the chair and not in his bed, but then, some liked kinky chair gymnastics and Gilderoy was Quite Flexible. He wrote his name out in the joined up letters he'd been so proud of a couple of years before. "Remus Lupin... that's a funny name. Fond of canines, are you? Perhaps you should be my puppy, then." Gilderoy smiled as he pushed his autograph into Remus's hand, followed by him straddling the man in his chair. "Well, my number one fan should warrant my special attention, don't you agree?" He ignored the question, figuring that it was just small talk before the main event, and really, why bother with such boring details?
Remus wasn't fond of canines so much as his parents had inadvertently predisposed him to a life of lycanthropy. "Your puppy?" he laughed. "But then you'd have to housebreak me, and--" What was he doing goading Lockhart? More importantly, what was Lockhart doing straddling his legs? "Special details?" he gulped, knowing what this would do to his bits if he allowed Lockhart even the tiniest lap shift. Gently scooting out from underneath Lockhart, Remus settled for sharing the chair. "So, you remember that you fancy blokes? What else do you remember?"
The avoidance made Gilderoy a little pouty and he was starting to wonder if Lupin wasn't a healer just casually wandering the halls. Maybe it was a new one, or an older one. He seemed a bit old to be a newbie, but not too old, mind. "Blokes, birds, it doesn't matter, does it? Choosing who you spend time with based on bits seems a bit silly, doesn't it? Besides, I'm not sure I remember if I had a preference, but I'm thinking I couldn't choose. I'm terribly indecisive, you know." He slid his fingers lightly over Remus's cheek and dragged the pad of his thumb over his bottom lip. "I remember how to shag. Want to see?"
"Oh, um, I don't think that would be appropriate here, Gilderoy," Remus sputtered, tripping over his words. "But I've no doubt you remember how to shag. Sex is a bit like riding a broom." Of course, that made sense in theory. Remus had never been too terribly skilled in flying. And it had been an embarrassingly long pause between this time and the last shag. So not to give the wrong impression, Remus took Gilderoy's wrist and, firmly but not unkindly, pulled it away from his face. If Gilderoy insisted on this chess-like game of move-counter move-counter, he'd be crossing his legs at the knee and biting his lip in restraint. "Do you remember how you came to be here?" he asked, diverting their conversation to safer, less choppier waters.
"Appropriate?" asked Gilderoy as if it were the first time he'd heard the word. Perhaps it was. He couldn't quite fathom the point of being appropriate here and all snuggled up like this, but Remus was moving his hand and asking questions. "I was told," he said carefully and with no small amount of surliness, "That a wand malfunctioned. That I was casting a spell and it backfired." He wriggled closer so that he was sitting in Remus's lap and said, "And if you want to know any more about it than that, then you either need to show me your hospital credentials, or let me sit here."
Remus couldn't believe that Lockhart was giving him an ultimatum, the sneaky, buggering shit. Many a man had tried to give Remus an ultimatum, and not once had he caved to anyone's demands. He wasn't about to start today. "Well, I haven't hospital credentials, I'm afraid, and it is getting late. 'Bout dinner time according to my watch, and there's blood pudding on tonight's menu. I'm sure you'll want to dine alone, yes?"
Gilderoy sniffed and rested his head on Remus's shoulder. He must be losing his charm, because it wasn't normally this difficult to get a man to pay attention to him, especially since his memory was known to be faulty and they knew they could always just deny what happened. Not that Gilderoy ever said anything about it. Especially not since his visit from Barty. At least, he thought it was Barty. "What do you want me to remember?"
"You know, Gilderoy..." Remus said slyly, nudging Lockhart's head off his shoulder. "I could probably get you out of this place. There's not much anyone can do for you here. But away from here? Someplace else. And with your talents? Why I might even acquiesce to your advances if you cooperated with me." Remus lifted Gilderoy's head up by the chin, searching his eyes for a shred of truth. "Weren't you a brilliant Obliviator once?"
"Out of here? Could you really? Do you have that sort of power?" He rested his head on Remus's shoulder again, this time turning his head so that he could whisper into Remus's ear. "I did read that I was a talented Obliviator. That's probably why it's so difficult to retrieve my memories. But what would a nice man like you want with an Obliviator? Mucking with people's memory is against the law, you know." He eyed Remus carefully for a moment and then said, "St. Mungo's is hardly the place to cultivate that sort of talent. Or even to get my memory back. I bet I'd remember loads more if you got me out of here."
Remus didn't need a lecture on what was against the law. He was intimately familiar with the law, in fact, due largely in part to being a lycan. But the Order needed an edge over Voldemort and the Death Eaters, and Lockhart had something. Or he had at one point. "I can make no promises," he said, "But I will see what I can do to get you out of here. This atmosphere isn't conducive to mental wellness, despite being a hospital. And well the gowns are quite grotty as well as draughty." Remus stuck his cheek out, tapping it with a fingertip. "Give us a kiss and promise to be good while I try and make arrangements for your release."
Gilderoy perked up and kissed Remus's cheek and then down the side of his face and along his jawline as he spoke, "Oh no, this place his horrible for mental health. And it's lonely, you know. Terribly, horribly lonely." He slid onto his lap again and grinned, nuzzling his face. "Don't you get lonely?"
Remus gulped. If he didn't get out of there soon, Lockhart was going to be his undoing. "Yes, well, I think every unattached male who's not single by choice is lonely, Gilderoy. And," he said, picking Lockhart up and carrying him to his bed, "Much as I'd like to indulge, now's not the time nor the place." Gently, Remus set him down on the bed, untangling himself. "You understand, don't you?"
Looking up at him with his blue eyes wide and surprised, and even slightly hurt, he nodded. "A raincheck, then? You will visit me, won't you? You're coming back again, right?" He reached out to slide his fingers through Remus's hair. "I bet if you came back, I'd remember things. Anything you want."
Remus felt guilty leaving upon hearing the desperation in Lockhart's voice. He hated human suffering. Lockhart had done some vile things in his day, but he deserved a second chance. Every man did. "I'll definitely be in touch, Gilderoy," he said with a final smile before he departed.
Gilderoy slumped in his bed, surprised that he'd been left alone, but flopped down, rolling on his side to stare at the door. Something told him that Remus would be back, but for now, he was just going to sulk.
(The memory fades here.)
Format: Pensieve Memory
Date: Early Summer 1997
Relevance: Proof of a first meeting that led to a friendship and Lockhart's induction into the Order.
RP'ed with the lovely, duelingdandy!
Remus hated hospitals. He'd spent far too much time in them as a boy. Mediwizards poking and prodding him, speaking to his parents as though he could not possibly understand the intricacies of his lycanthropy. And then there were the promises made to him. A cure was on the way. That the scars would heal seamlessly. That he could live a semi normal life. Remus learned fairly early that doctors and scientists were not to be trusted. Still, since his childhood had been less than ideal, Remus endeavoured to visit the newly bitten at St Mungo's as they were admitted. The stigma of being a lycan was harder to bear when you were younger, and Remus thought that even a little of his time would do a world of good.
There were two new admits this week, and after such a disheartening visit, Remus knew he would need something to cheer himself up. Stopping by the hospital's gift shop, he stocked up on tins of Bertram's Better Butter Biscuits (chocolate covered, of course), opening one mid aisle. Head down, Remus didn't see the blond gentleman until he'd smacked into him, spilling the contents of the tin. Biscuit in mouth, Remus went to thank the man who had stopped to help him, nearly choking when he saw the golden curls and brighter than bright smile.
Little aftershocks of memory were slowly coming back, not that Gilderoy was going to let on to that fact. No, not if half of what he'd heard or even suspected were true. He could be tried for thievery and memory tampering and... right. All of that was not good, not to mention the strange memories he was having of a Dark Lord who was in the papers quite often. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but one thing his shrewd sense of self-preservation did tell him was that letting on that he knew too much wouldn't be good for his health.
Still, when he bumbled into a face that was oddly familiar and yet... not remembered entirely on friendly terms, he stopped to help him pick up his things. There wasn't a lot waiting for him back in his room, plus he found if he bent over enough, eventually someone might visit him. Not that it meant anything, but at least it was a little less lonely for a little bit.
He batted his lashes at the gentleman. "Oh dear me! I do seem to have made a mess. All of your lovely biscuits on the floor. Here, let me help you, dovelet."
Dovelet? he mouthed, inhaling shortbread crumbs. He was going to need a good whack on the back not to choke now. Gilderoy Lockhart had just called him the silliest name ever. Hopefully, no one else had heard this. "Thank you, Mr Lockhart, but uh, should you be out of bed? I'd be more than happy to escort you back to your room. For an autograph, perhaps?" he added, hoping to coax him effortlessly.
"You know me?" But, of course, he shouldn't be surprised at this. Of course this man knew him. He was famous. And infamous. But he was trying to get him back to his room and Gilderoy wasn't going to have objections to that in the slightest. He knew blue was a good colour for him, and really, the open backed smock really did help him make friends easily. "Oh certainly. An autograph," he said, winking lasciviously.
"But of course I do," he grinned, waving off the orderlies who were dispatched to come and retrieve Lockhart. "Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile. Magical Me. Wasn't there a spot for a tooth paste commercial, too?" He took Gilderoy by the arm after glimpsing more of Lockhart's backside than he'd wanted. "Let's see if we can't get you into one of your lilac robes, Mr Lockhart. Those hospital gowns are a bit too, well, breezy, if you catch my meaning."
"Lilac! You know my favourite colour! Oh but of course you do. You sound like quite the admirer... Mr..." leaving that blank, Gilderoy swirled his wrist, letting his fingers splay out in an extravagant gesture. He pulled Remus into his room, which was piled high with signed and unsigned photographs, the walls littered with posters of Gilderoy Lockhart in his prime and flowers in every space in between. "Sorry for the mess. I hardly get company... but the bed is pretty clear," he said, winking as he reached over to close the door.
Lockhart had a shrine to himself. And the colours? Those were part seventies tribute, part pastel regurgitation. Picking up an unautographed photo, Remus handed it to Lockhart with a smile. "Lupin. Remus Lupin. Your biggest fan, yes." Remus eyed the bed and then eyed the solitary chair in the corner of the room. He didn't think there was room enough on the bed for Lockhart, his ego and himself, so he opted for the chair, using his wand to drag it closer. Settling into the chair, Remus watched as Lockhart signed his name in loopy, fanciful writing, unabashedly proud of his celebrity. "So, Mr Lockhart, you've been here for quite some time. Do you remember what brought you here?"
It was slightly distressing that the man sat in the chair and not in his bed, but then, some liked kinky chair gymnastics and Gilderoy was Quite Flexible. He wrote his name out in the joined up letters he'd been so proud of a couple of years before. "Remus Lupin... that's a funny name. Fond of canines, are you? Perhaps you should be my puppy, then." Gilderoy smiled as he pushed his autograph into Remus's hand, followed by him straddling the man in his chair. "Well, my number one fan should warrant my special attention, don't you agree?" He ignored the question, figuring that it was just small talk before the main event, and really, why bother with such boring details?
Remus wasn't fond of canines so much as his parents had inadvertently predisposed him to a life of lycanthropy. "Your puppy?" he laughed. "But then you'd have to housebreak me, and--" What was he doing goading Lockhart? More importantly, what was Lockhart doing straddling his legs? "Special details?" he gulped, knowing what this would do to his bits if he allowed Lockhart even the tiniest lap shift. Gently scooting out from underneath Lockhart, Remus settled for sharing the chair. "So, you remember that you fancy blokes? What else do you remember?"
The avoidance made Gilderoy a little pouty and he was starting to wonder if Lupin wasn't a healer just casually wandering the halls. Maybe it was a new one, or an older one. He seemed a bit old to be a newbie, but not too old, mind. "Blokes, birds, it doesn't matter, does it? Choosing who you spend time with based on bits seems a bit silly, doesn't it? Besides, I'm not sure I remember if I had a preference, but I'm thinking I couldn't choose. I'm terribly indecisive, you know." He slid his fingers lightly over Remus's cheek and dragged the pad of his thumb over his bottom lip. "I remember how to shag. Want to see?"
"Oh, um, I don't think that would be appropriate here, Gilderoy," Remus sputtered, tripping over his words. "But I've no doubt you remember how to shag. Sex is a bit like riding a broom." Of course, that made sense in theory. Remus had never been too terribly skilled in flying. And it had been an embarrassingly long pause between this time and the last shag. So not to give the wrong impression, Remus took Gilderoy's wrist and, firmly but not unkindly, pulled it away from his face. If Gilderoy insisted on this chess-like game of move-counter move-counter, he'd be crossing his legs at the knee and biting his lip in restraint. "Do you remember how you came to be here?" he asked, diverting their conversation to safer, less choppier waters.
"Appropriate?" asked Gilderoy as if it were the first time he'd heard the word. Perhaps it was. He couldn't quite fathom the point of being appropriate here and all snuggled up like this, but Remus was moving his hand and asking questions. "I was told," he said carefully and with no small amount of surliness, "That a wand malfunctioned. That I was casting a spell and it backfired." He wriggled closer so that he was sitting in Remus's lap and said, "And if you want to know any more about it than that, then you either need to show me your hospital credentials, or let me sit here."
Remus couldn't believe that Lockhart was giving him an ultimatum, the sneaky, buggering shit. Many a man had tried to give Remus an ultimatum, and not once had he caved to anyone's demands. He wasn't about to start today. "Well, I haven't hospital credentials, I'm afraid, and it is getting late. 'Bout dinner time according to my watch, and there's blood pudding on tonight's menu. I'm sure you'll want to dine alone, yes?"
Gilderoy sniffed and rested his head on Remus's shoulder. He must be losing his charm, because it wasn't normally this difficult to get a man to pay attention to him, especially since his memory was known to be faulty and they knew they could always just deny what happened. Not that Gilderoy ever said anything about it. Especially not since his visit from Barty. At least, he thought it was Barty. "What do you want me to remember?"
"You know, Gilderoy..." Remus said slyly, nudging Lockhart's head off his shoulder. "I could probably get you out of this place. There's not much anyone can do for you here. But away from here? Someplace else. And with your talents? Why I might even acquiesce to your advances if you cooperated with me." Remus lifted Gilderoy's head up by the chin, searching his eyes for a shred of truth. "Weren't you a brilliant Obliviator once?"
"Out of here? Could you really? Do you have that sort of power?" He rested his head on Remus's shoulder again, this time turning his head so that he could whisper into Remus's ear. "I did read that I was a talented Obliviator. That's probably why it's so difficult to retrieve my memories. But what would a nice man like you want with an Obliviator? Mucking with people's memory is against the law, you know." He eyed Remus carefully for a moment and then said, "St. Mungo's is hardly the place to cultivate that sort of talent. Or even to get my memory back. I bet I'd remember loads more if you got me out of here."
Remus didn't need a lecture on what was against the law. He was intimately familiar with the law, in fact, due largely in part to being a lycan. But the Order needed an edge over Voldemort and the Death Eaters, and Lockhart had something. Or he had at one point. "I can make no promises," he said, "But I will see what I can do to get you out of here. This atmosphere isn't conducive to mental wellness, despite being a hospital. And well the gowns are quite grotty as well as draughty." Remus stuck his cheek out, tapping it with a fingertip. "Give us a kiss and promise to be good while I try and make arrangements for your release."
Gilderoy perked up and kissed Remus's cheek and then down the side of his face and along his jawline as he spoke, "Oh no, this place his horrible for mental health. And it's lonely, you know. Terribly, horribly lonely." He slid onto his lap again and grinned, nuzzling his face. "Don't you get lonely?"
Remus gulped. If he didn't get out of there soon, Lockhart was going to be his undoing. "Yes, well, I think every unattached male who's not single by choice is lonely, Gilderoy. And," he said, picking Lockhart up and carrying him to his bed, "Much as I'd like to indulge, now's not the time nor the place." Gently, Remus set him down on the bed, untangling himself. "You understand, don't you?"
Looking up at him with his blue eyes wide and surprised, and even slightly hurt, he nodded. "A raincheck, then? You will visit me, won't you? You're coming back again, right?" He reached out to slide his fingers through Remus's hair. "I bet if you came back, I'd remember things. Anything you want."
Remus felt guilty leaving upon hearing the desperation in Lockhart's voice. He hated human suffering. Lockhart had done some vile things in his day, but he deserved a second chance. Every man did. "I'll definitely be in touch, Gilderoy," he said with a final smile before he departed.
Gilderoy slumped in his bed, surprised that he'd been left alone, but flopped down, rolling on his side to stare at the door. Something told him that Remus would be back, but for now, he was just going to sulk.
(The memory fades here.)