When It Rains; Gift for wwmrsweasleydo!
Recipient: wwmrsweasleydo
Title: When It Rains
Author: writerofictions
Beta: phiso-kun
Pairing/s: Sirius/Remus
Rating: PG
Warning(s): Beware of angst, snogging, and general emoness.
Word Count: 2,334
Summary: Remus recalls the last night he spent with Sirius, and wishes he could change the course of action.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction set in the Harry Potter universe - all recognizable characters and settings are the property of J. K. Rowling and her associates. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work.
Author's Notes: I hope you enjoy it!
When It Rains
It was raining. That was the one thing that Remus Lupin would always remember about that night, about those last final moments together before everything changed. It was raining and had been for the past six hours, not letting up and not relenting. Even two floors down it could be heard, pattering off the worn shingles of the sloped roof above the attic in a nonsensical yet likewise musical pattern. It was soft, in a way that reminded him somehow of fingers running over velvet, a thought that made him smile as he turned the page of the book that rested in his lap.
The study was bathed in a pale yellow glow that came from the sconces on the walls, never-melting candles with flames that flickered and danced and whose light never quite reached the furthest and darkest corners of the room. It was always dusty in here, but that never put Remus off, his love for knowledge and his desire to learn always far greater than the desperate tendencies of his sneezes. Overhead the soft velvet rain picked up a more steady pace, swelling to a dull roar that was more likened to waves assaulting a poor defenseless shore line. It was admittedly distracting, though not nearly as much as he was, stretched out on the chaise beneath the window looking for all the world like everyone he came across personally owed him something.
Sirius Black made irritation look rather delicious, if Remus could say so himself (though he most certainly never would, or at least not out loud), and somehow a scowl was more at home on his handsome face than any smile. He was propped up against a stack of musty old pillows, one leg hanging off the chaise with a foot resting on the floor, the other stretched out and jiggling anxiously. He had given himself a bit of a haircut, though it was still long enough to hang in his eyes and drape across his forehead in that wonderfully obnoxious way that allowed him to flick it back with a twitch of his head before he snarled at you. His idle hands were moving, picking at his fingernails and twirling his wand between his fingers as he rested his cheek against the cool grimy glass of the window, staring into the wet alley between number 12 and number 13. He was thinking, though about what was anyone’s guess, and he had spoken not a word for at least twenty minutes. Though like anything, silence can never last long, especially not if it’s welcomed.
“I don’t know that I can take another day in this wretched place.”
That was the catalyst Remus had been waiting for, marking his page before closing the book and laying it aside, folding his hands across his lap. It had only been a matter of time before Sirius had spoken up, and to be honest his words came as no real surprise either. He had never been the sort to sit idly by while others were busy doing, and despite twelve years in Azakaban? He still had little patience and absolutely no tolerance for doing what he was told despite the fact that it was often in his own best interest.
“I know that you’re frustrated,” Remus said, picking his words carefully. The last thing he wanted to do was worsen the situation by coming off insufferable. “Right now there just simply isn’t anything to be done, Sirius. Dumbledore believes it’s really best for you to lay low right now, that’s all. I’m sure that when he thinks it safe enough, he’ll change his mind.”
Sirius scoffed at Remus’ words, swiveling on the chaise to sit up straight. “Safe enough? It will never be safe enough, not for anybody! He just thinks I can’t be of use, that’s what it’s about! Or he thinks I’m reckless, probably an idea he got from Snivellus. What’s he doing that’s so wonderful and highly regarded? I’m telling you, he can’t be trusted. At least my allegiance has never come into question!”
Remus just sighed and shook his head, knowing better than to argue. No one had said a word about Sirius’ ‘allegiance’, and it had absolutely nothing to do with his reckless nature or how useful he could be, but there was no need to gently point that out. It was like talking to a very thick brick wall, nothing would ever get through, so it was better to just let it go and have it all blow over.
“Well, just give it a bit more time, Sirius. That’s all that I’m saying.” He paused then, flexing his fingers a little and worrying over his bottom lip with his teeth. “Everything is starting to change now; I think we’re finally getting an upper hand. Without the prophecy in his hands, we have a leg up on the Dark Lord and-”
“Oh, just stop it,” Sirius snapped, finally standing up. He paced the length of the room, wooden floorboards creaking with every step that he took. “I don’t want to hear about how we have this, or he doesn’t have that. That’s not even what I’m getting at anyway, because I’m not just talking about the war. I’m just talking about being locked up in this bloody house all of the time. You don’t know what it’s like, Remus! You get to come and go as you please, you’re given things to do and places to go! I can’t even have myself a bit of a walk ‘round the neighborhood! How would you feel if you had to be in this place day and night with no one but a bent old house elf to talk to?”
Closing his eyes, Remus just let Sirius rant and rave, listening to his words and taking them in. To be honest, he was sure he would have gone mad if he’d been stuck in Grimmauld Place for very long at a clip with only Kreacher for company, though he was wise not to point that out either. Instead he just nodded a little, opening his tired eyes again and clearing his throat.
“I could stay here more often,” he suggested quietly, watching Sirius as he started the journey back across the room. “I don’t necessarily have to go every time Dumbledore asks me. If it’s company you want, Sirius, I am more than willing to be here with you. I wouldn’t particularly mind it, as you well know…”
Thunder cracked overhead then, as the rain ebbed slowly into something a bit more violent outside. The candles in the sconces continued their lazy dancing, Sirius' shadow casting against the wall behind him as he turned to look at Remus then. There was a very long and tense moment in which nothing was said and no one moved, wind howling in the alley now and rattling the ancient panes of glass in the windows. It was Sirius who reacted first, a very slow smirk spreading across his mouth before he took a step forward. The action itself was predatory, slow and agile, stepping down with the toe of his boot and this time the floorboard made no sound.
“Moony,” he whispered, blue eyes icy and gleaming in the scant light. “I need you to help me. He’ll listen to you, and you know it. He values what you say, and he trusts you. You can help me get out of this house, if you really want to.”
The way Sirius moved made Remus feel uneasy, and he shifted a bit in his chair. He uncrossed his legs and let both feet settle on the floor, shaking his head slowly. It was very hard to say no to the other man, it always had been, and it never got any easier. He would try, however, to resist his advances and firmly stand his ground.
Calmly Remus forced himself to speak, keeping his voice light and gentle. “Oh, I don’t think so, Sirius. I quite agree with Dumbledore and I think that this is what’s best. Just give it time, really. I think you’re over…overreacting…”
His words trailed off, lost in the sound of the building storm outside as Sirius finally stood right in front of him. In one fluid motion the other man climbed onto the chair, kneeling with a leg on either side of Remus’ lap, resting against him and pressing close chest to chest. The hands that had been folded neatly in front of Remus were now being pulled apart, Sirius’ fingers circling around the smooth expanse of skin and bone that were his wrists. Remus was barely breathing as his arms pressed up against the back of the chair, Sirius leaning in closer and digging his nails gently into skin.
“You’re really telling me no?” Sirius whispered, so close to Remus that he felt the other's breath tickling across his lips. He strained forward slightly but Sirius held him fast, shaking his head slightly as he searched he other's eyes with his own. “Would you really have me stay in this horrible place alone day after day, wasting away? Is that what you want to see, Moony?”
Finally he closed the gap between them, teasing his lips over the other's before pressing them together roughly. It was an expressively needy kiss, the sort that knocked teeth together and cut the inside of Remus’ bottom lip so that it stung and bled lightly onto his tongue. Sirius hummed a little as he flicked the tip of his own tongue over the minor wound, which caused Remus to whimper and arch his back a bit. He knew that this was Sirius’ way of wearing him down into agreeing, a tactic that had worked quite well in years past.
Outside there was a loud crashing noise as one of the bins turned over and rolled down the alleyway, slamming into the gate that led to the street. Sirius didn’t seem to notice at all, focused now on this moment and his mission and what he wanted. That was really what it always came down to. Whatever Sirius wanted was the focus, and whatever Sirius wanted he generally got. Only this time, Remus was not so ready and willing to give in. This was not just a matter of a boyish need to be pleased and to get his way, this was a true matter of life and death and moreover it was a matter of the heart itself. To aid Sirius in this, to plea this case for him to Dumbledore, was taking this onto his shoulders. He was already in deeply, and he wasn’t sure that he would be able to withstand the burden of it should anything go wrong.
“Sirius,” Remus whispered shakily, pulling out of the kiss just enough to be able to speak. The fingers around his wrists dug in harder, half-moon shaped indentions appearing on the skin from Sirius’ fingernails as he prepared himself for whatever the other had to say. “I can’t do what you’re asking me to do. It’s not because I don’t want you to get out of this house, or to be useful or anything else. It’s because I worry about you. Because I love you.”
Grinding his teeth a little, Sirius pulled back altogether, just looking down at Remus. His shining eyes were clouded over now, his grip slackening a little. The tense silence between them returned as Sirius slid off Remus’ lap and stood up again, smoothing down his jacket and shrugging a little.
“If you loved me,” he said, voice cold and unwelcoming now, his mood changing just as quickly as the weather outside. “If you really and truly loved me at all? You would respect me and do this for me. I would do this for you, and you know it. But I guess that means we just have two very different ideas about what love is.”
Remus watched helplessly as Sirius stepped away and strode across the room, throwing open the door. He slipped out into the hallway, slamming the door closed again behind him, a ringing in the silence that was broken only by the sounds of the rain dwindling back down to a gentle sprinkling on the roof again. The feeling that lingered then was heavy, sadness laced with a sense of foreboding that something big was looming ahead now that would cause the other shoe to drop.
If only Remus had known that night when he let Sirius walked out, the tangled mess of mutual love between them as it was, what was to come then he would have tried so hard to change the situation. He would have insisted that the other listen, that he understood that yes, what Remus felt was real love and it was the true and driving force behind his actions. Nothing that he said or did was for himself or to gain some sort of footing in whatever sort of cat and mouse relationship they had.
Everything would be forever changed in the Department of Mysteries, and Sirius would never come back to Grimmauld Place. He had considered the house to be his prison, a way of keeping him down and holding him back, but Remus saw it differently. This house had kept Sirius alive, had provided some sort of sanctuary, although it had obviously not been enough. It had been painful to return without him, to try and carry on as though things were normal, as though his feelings hadn’t been questioned and then tossed aside, never carried out and left to fester away inside of him now that Sirius was really gone.
Though with everything that was said, and every emotion that was felt, when asked about the night before it happened and what had gone on that might have spurred Sirius into such drastic actions? The only thing that Remus could ever remember with clarity, and the only thing he could recall worth mentioning, was the rain.
Title: When It Rains
Author: writerofictions
Beta: phiso-kun
Pairing/s: Sirius/Remus
Rating: PG
Warning(s): Beware of angst, snogging, and general emoness.
Word Count: 2,334
Summary: Remus recalls the last night he spent with Sirius, and wishes he could change the course of action.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction set in the Harry Potter universe - all recognizable characters and settings are the property of J. K. Rowling and her associates. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work.
Author's Notes: I hope you enjoy it!
When It Rains
It was raining. That was the one thing that Remus Lupin would always remember about that night, about those last final moments together before everything changed. It was raining and had been for the past six hours, not letting up and not relenting. Even two floors down it could be heard, pattering off the worn shingles of the sloped roof above the attic in a nonsensical yet likewise musical pattern. It was soft, in a way that reminded him somehow of fingers running over velvet, a thought that made him smile as he turned the page of the book that rested in his lap.
The study was bathed in a pale yellow glow that came from the sconces on the walls, never-melting candles with flames that flickered and danced and whose light never quite reached the furthest and darkest corners of the room. It was always dusty in here, but that never put Remus off, his love for knowledge and his desire to learn always far greater than the desperate tendencies of his sneezes. Overhead the soft velvet rain picked up a more steady pace, swelling to a dull roar that was more likened to waves assaulting a poor defenseless shore line. It was admittedly distracting, though not nearly as much as he was, stretched out on the chaise beneath the window looking for all the world like everyone he came across personally owed him something.
Sirius Black made irritation look rather delicious, if Remus could say so himself (though he most certainly never would, or at least not out loud), and somehow a scowl was more at home on his handsome face than any smile. He was propped up against a stack of musty old pillows, one leg hanging off the chaise with a foot resting on the floor, the other stretched out and jiggling anxiously. He had given himself a bit of a haircut, though it was still long enough to hang in his eyes and drape across his forehead in that wonderfully obnoxious way that allowed him to flick it back with a twitch of his head before he snarled at you. His idle hands were moving, picking at his fingernails and twirling his wand between his fingers as he rested his cheek against the cool grimy glass of the window, staring into the wet alley between number 12 and number 13. He was thinking, though about what was anyone’s guess, and he had spoken not a word for at least twenty minutes. Though like anything, silence can never last long, especially not if it’s welcomed.
“I don’t know that I can take another day in this wretched place.”
That was the catalyst Remus had been waiting for, marking his page before closing the book and laying it aside, folding his hands across his lap. It had only been a matter of time before Sirius had spoken up, and to be honest his words came as no real surprise either. He had never been the sort to sit idly by while others were busy doing, and despite twelve years in Azakaban? He still had little patience and absolutely no tolerance for doing what he was told despite the fact that it was often in his own best interest.
“I know that you’re frustrated,” Remus said, picking his words carefully. The last thing he wanted to do was worsen the situation by coming off insufferable. “Right now there just simply isn’t anything to be done, Sirius. Dumbledore believes it’s really best for you to lay low right now, that’s all. I’m sure that when he thinks it safe enough, he’ll change his mind.”
Sirius scoffed at Remus’ words, swiveling on the chaise to sit up straight. “Safe enough? It will never be safe enough, not for anybody! He just thinks I can’t be of use, that’s what it’s about! Or he thinks I’m reckless, probably an idea he got from Snivellus. What’s he doing that’s so wonderful and highly regarded? I’m telling you, he can’t be trusted. At least my allegiance has never come into question!”
Remus just sighed and shook his head, knowing better than to argue. No one had said a word about Sirius’ ‘allegiance’, and it had absolutely nothing to do with his reckless nature or how useful he could be, but there was no need to gently point that out. It was like talking to a very thick brick wall, nothing would ever get through, so it was better to just let it go and have it all blow over.
“Well, just give it a bit more time, Sirius. That’s all that I’m saying.” He paused then, flexing his fingers a little and worrying over his bottom lip with his teeth. “Everything is starting to change now; I think we’re finally getting an upper hand. Without the prophecy in his hands, we have a leg up on the Dark Lord and-”
“Oh, just stop it,” Sirius snapped, finally standing up. He paced the length of the room, wooden floorboards creaking with every step that he took. “I don’t want to hear about how we have this, or he doesn’t have that. That’s not even what I’m getting at anyway, because I’m not just talking about the war. I’m just talking about being locked up in this bloody house all of the time. You don’t know what it’s like, Remus! You get to come and go as you please, you’re given things to do and places to go! I can’t even have myself a bit of a walk ‘round the neighborhood! How would you feel if you had to be in this place day and night with no one but a bent old house elf to talk to?”
Closing his eyes, Remus just let Sirius rant and rave, listening to his words and taking them in. To be honest, he was sure he would have gone mad if he’d been stuck in Grimmauld Place for very long at a clip with only Kreacher for company, though he was wise not to point that out either. Instead he just nodded a little, opening his tired eyes again and clearing his throat.
“I could stay here more often,” he suggested quietly, watching Sirius as he started the journey back across the room. “I don’t necessarily have to go every time Dumbledore asks me. If it’s company you want, Sirius, I am more than willing to be here with you. I wouldn’t particularly mind it, as you well know…”
Thunder cracked overhead then, as the rain ebbed slowly into something a bit more violent outside. The candles in the sconces continued their lazy dancing, Sirius' shadow casting against the wall behind him as he turned to look at Remus then. There was a very long and tense moment in which nothing was said and no one moved, wind howling in the alley now and rattling the ancient panes of glass in the windows. It was Sirius who reacted first, a very slow smirk spreading across his mouth before he took a step forward. The action itself was predatory, slow and agile, stepping down with the toe of his boot and this time the floorboard made no sound.
“Moony,” he whispered, blue eyes icy and gleaming in the scant light. “I need you to help me. He’ll listen to you, and you know it. He values what you say, and he trusts you. You can help me get out of this house, if you really want to.”
The way Sirius moved made Remus feel uneasy, and he shifted a bit in his chair. He uncrossed his legs and let both feet settle on the floor, shaking his head slowly. It was very hard to say no to the other man, it always had been, and it never got any easier. He would try, however, to resist his advances and firmly stand his ground.
Calmly Remus forced himself to speak, keeping his voice light and gentle. “Oh, I don’t think so, Sirius. I quite agree with Dumbledore and I think that this is what’s best. Just give it time, really. I think you’re over…overreacting…”
His words trailed off, lost in the sound of the building storm outside as Sirius finally stood right in front of him. In one fluid motion the other man climbed onto the chair, kneeling with a leg on either side of Remus’ lap, resting against him and pressing close chest to chest. The hands that had been folded neatly in front of Remus were now being pulled apart, Sirius’ fingers circling around the smooth expanse of skin and bone that were his wrists. Remus was barely breathing as his arms pressed up against the back of the chair, Sirius leaning in closer and digging his nails gently into skin.
“You’re really telling me no?” Sirius whispered, so close to Remus that he felt the other's breath tickling across his lips. He strained forward slightly but Sirius held him fast, shaking his head slightly as he searched he other's eyes with his own. “Would you really have me stay in this horrible place alone day after day, wasting away? Is that what you want to see, Moony?”
Finally he closed the gap between them, teasing his lips over the other's before pressing them together roughly. It was an expressively needy kiss, the sort that knocked teeth together and cut the inside of Remus’ bottom lip so that it stung and bled lightly onto his tongue. Sirius hummed a little as he flicked the tip of his own tongue over the minor wound, which caused Remus to whimper and arch his back a bit. He knew that this was Sirius’ way of wearing him down into agreeing, a tactic that had worked quite well in years past.
Outside there was a loud crashing noise as one of the bins turned over and rolled down the alleyway, slamming into the gate that led to the street. Sirius didn’t seem to notice at all, focused now on this moment and his mission and what he wanted. That was really what it always came down to. Whatever Sirius wanted was the focus, and whatever Sirius wanted he generally got. Only this time, Remus was not so ready and willing to give in. This was not just a matter of a boyish need to be pleased and to get his way, this was a true matter of life and death and moreover it was a matter of the heart itself. To aid Sirius in this, to plea this case for him to Dumbledore, was taking this onto his shoulders. He was already in deeply, and he wasn’t sure that he would be able to withstand the burden of it should anything go wrong.
“Sirius,” Remus whispered shakily, pulling out of the kiss just enough to be able to speak. The fingers around his wrists dug in harder, half-moon shaped indentions appearing on the skin from Sirius’ fingernails as he prepared himself for whatever the other had to say. “I can’t do what you’re asking me to do. It’s not because I don’t want you to get out of this house, or to be useful or anything else. It’s because I worry about you. Because I love you.”
Grinding his teeth a little, Sirius pulled back altogether, just looking down at Remus. His shining eyes were clouded over now, his grip slackening a little. The tense silence between them returned as Sirius slid off Remus’ lap and stood up again, smoothing down his jacket and shrugging a little.
“If you loved me,” he said, voice cold and unwelcoming now, his mood changing just as quickly as the weather outside. “If you really and truly loved me at all? You would respect me and do this for me. I would do this for you, and you know it. But I guess that means we just have two very different ideas about what love is.”
Remus watched helplessly as Sirius stepped away and strode across the room, throwing open the door. He slipped out into the hallway, slamming the door closed again behind him, a ringing in the silence that was broken only by the sounds of the rain dwindling back down to a gentle sprinkling on the roof again. The feeling that lingered then was heavy, sadness laced with a sense of foreboding that something big was looming ahead now that would cause the other shoe to drop.
If only Remus had known that night when he let Sirius walked out, the tangled mess of mutual love between them as it was, what was to come then he would have tried so hard to change the situation. He would have insisted that the other listen, that he understood that yes, what Remus felt was real love and it was the true and driving force behind his actions. Nothing that he said or did was for himself or to gain some sort of footing in whatever sort of cat and mouse relationship they had.
Everything would be forever changed in the Department of Mysteries, and Sirius would never come back to Grimmauld Place. He had considered the house to be his prison, a way of keeping him down and holding him back, but Remus saw it differently. This house had kept Sirius alive, had provided some sort of sanctuary, although it had obviously not been enough. It had been painful to return without him, to try and carry on as though things were normal, as though his feelings hadn’t been questioned and then tossed aside, never carried out and left to fester away inside of him now that Sirius was really gone.
Though with everything that was said, and every emotion that was felt, when asked about the night before it happened and what had gone on that might have spurred Sirius into such drastic actions? The only thing that Remus could ever remember with clarity, and the only thing he could recall worth mentioning, was the rain.