Fic: "Longest Night," for busaikko
Title: Longest Night
Author/Artist: penknife
Written for: busaikko
Rating: PG
Summary and/or Prompt: prompts: "solstice" and "first kiss"
Any other random notes, warnings, etc.: Set during the first war.
Longest Night
Remus could still feel the stiff parchment Dumbledore had handed him rolled up inside his shirt; he kept touching it, fingering its outline and half-expecting it to be a pack of cigarettes instead. His orders. It was still strange to think of taking orders in a war, hard to believe they hadn't been called to the headmaster's office to explain why the Slytherin table was awash in custard again.
He could see that Sirius found it strange, too, from the restlessness of his motion as they walked back toward the gates. He kept looking around as if these weren't the same familiar halls they'd spent every waking moment in for seven years. On the other hand, that might not have anything to do with the war. Remus could remember Gideon and Fabian visiting school with the same awkward expressions, as if not sure they had the right to touch anything anymore.
Sirius paused in front of a trophy case in the hall. Remus wasn't sure if he was staring at his own reflection or at the names inscribed on it. Quidditch had seemed very important then, a few years ago when they were so many years younger.
"Come out on the grounds," Remus said. "I want a cigarette before we go."
"Filch will skin us alive," Sirius said. "He's probably missed getting to punish us. It's probably left a great empty hole in his days."
"Don't tell me you're still afraid of Filch."
"I never was," Sirius said indignantly. "But we ought to try not to get thrown out if we're going to keep dropping in here." Dumbledore had felt that their presence in the castle was probably less conspicuous than his own presence in London, which Remus felt was sensible. It wasn't Dumbledore's fault that being back at Hogwarts felt so strange, like trying to fit into outworn clothes.
"Behind the greenhouse, then?"
"Better to go up the Astronomy Tower," Sirius said. "Get a better view."
Remus wasn't sure what Sirius wanted a view of, but he followed him obediently through the corridors and up the winding staircase. The shorter flight from the encircling walkway to the top was through a locked door, but it was easy enough to scale the wall the last few feet. They'd done it often enough.
"There might be a class," Remus pointed out. "It's the solstice tonight."
"We were here first," Sirius said. "Besides, it's end of term tomorrow. They'll all be packing their trunks and bracing themselves for two weeks with the family. The older ones will be turning to drink, I expect, unless Filch has managed to confiscate it all."
"Not everyone minds the holidays so much," Remus said.
"I don't mind them at all," Sirius said, lighting a cigarette. He took a long drag on it, the end glowing red against the dark sky. "Not spending two weeks with my mother fills me with Christmas spirit."
"You always stayed at school."
"Not being expected to spend two weeks with my mother fills me with Christmas spirit." Sirius fingered something in his pocket. "Nothing like a nice little war for Christmas, is there? I wonder who we're supposed to --"
"It won't be like that," Remus said, although he hadn't looked at his own orders. He wondered if they were the same. "Probably guarding something."
"Would anyone in their right minds set us to guard something, I wonder?" Sirius's smile was crooked, and didn't make him look cheerful. "A werewolf and a relative of a bunch of bloody maniacs."
Remus lit his own cigarette, although now he wasn't sure he wanted it. "Cheer up," he said.
"Why should I?"
"Does it help matters not to?"
"It makes me feel better," Sirius said. "James and Lily are happy as only a pair of sickeningly sweet lovebirds can be, and I can't say that the weather's bad without one of them cooing 'James loves the rain' or 'I'll bet rain's good for the baby.' At least you don't expect me to be beaming approval at you all the time."
"I promise I don't expect you to be pleasant," Remus said.
Sirius looked up at him as if he'd said something much sharper. "Moony --"
"We shouldn't hang about here," Remus said.
"We used to be up here at all hours," Sirius said. "Do you remember?"
Remus felt suddenly that he couldn't bear it. They were too young to be playing do you remember, too young to look back on their school days as the best days of their lives. There ought to be more to look forward to.
"Fuck all this," he said. He threw his cigarette down, watching the smoke curl up to mar the clear night sky.
Sirius ground out his own cigarette. "Anything in particular?"
Remus turned up his hands helplessly. "The weather's bad," he said, although the night was fine, just cold enough to suit the season.
"I know," Sirius said, coming up behind him. Remus could feel his warmth against his back. He turned and caught Sirius by the shoulders and kissed him hard, the only thing he could think of to do or say that they hadn't done before.
"Oh," Sirius said when Remus broke away, breathing hard, ready to be hit in the face or laughed at or kissed back, and not sure which one he secretly wanted. When none of those happened, Remus kissed him again, at greater length. Sirius put his arms around Remus's waist and kissed him back, which Remus chose to consider somewhat hopeful.
"We still haven't read our orders," Remus said, as he backed off a little from the awkward tangle of arms.
Sirius frowned. "Is now the bloody time?"
"Is there going to be a better one?"
"Later," Sirius said. "In the morning."
"It's the longest night of the year."
"It'll be morning soon enough," Sirius said. He didn't look up at the stars overhead, but Remus couldn't help knowing they'd moved, marking the lost fragment of an hour in their relentless way.
"Let's go in," he said; he didn't want to spend any longer under their cold, clear light.
Author/Artist: penknife
Written for: busaikko
Rating: PG
Summary and/or Prompt: prompts: "solstice" and "first kiss"
Any other random notes, warnings, etc.: Set during the first war.
Longest Night
Remus could still feel the stiff parchment Dumbledore had handed him rolled up inside his shirt; he kept touching it, fingering its outline and half-expecting it to be a pack of cigarettes instead. His orders. It was still strange to think of taking orders in a war, hard to believe they hadn't been called to the headmaster's office to explain why the Slytherin table was awash in custard again.
He could see that Sirius found it strange, too, from the restlessness of his motion as they walked back toward the gates. He kept looking around as if these weren't the same familiar halls they'd spent every waking moment in for seven years. On the other hand, that might not have anything to do with the war. Remus could remember Gideon and Fabian visiting school with the same awkward expressions, as if not sure they had the right to touch anything anymore.
Sirius paused in front of a trophy case in the hall. Remus wasn't sure if he was staring at his own reflection or at the names inscribed on it. Quidditch had seemed very important then, a few years ago when they were so many years younger.
"Come out on the grounds," Remus said. "I want a cigarette before we go."
"Filch will skin us alive," Sirius said. "He's probably missed getting to punish us. It's probably left a great empty hole in his days."
"Don't tell me you're still afraid of Filch."
"I never was," Sirius said indignantly. "But we ought to try not to get thrown out if we're going to keep dropping in here." Dumbledore had felt that their presence in the castle was probably less conspicuous than his own presence in London, which Remus felt was sensible. It wasn't Dumbledore's fault that being back at Hogwarts felt so strange, like trying to fit into outworn clothes.
"Behind the greenhouse, then?"
"Better to go up the Astronomy Tower," Sirius said. "Get a better view."
Remus wasn't sure what Sirius wanted a view of, but he followed him obediently through the corridors and up the winding staircase. The shorter flight from the encircling walkway to the top was through a locked door, but it was easy enough to scale the wall the last few feet. They'd done it often enough.
"There might be a class," Remus pointed out. "It's the solstice tonight."
"We were here first," Sirius said. "Besides, it's end of term tomorrow. They'll all be packing their trunks and bracing themselves for two weeks with the family. The older ones will be turning to drink, I expect, unless Filch has managed to confiscate it all."
"Not everyone minds the holidays so much," Remus said.
"I don't mind them at all," Sirius said, lighting a cigarette. He took a long drag on it, the end glowing red against the dark sky. "Not spending two weeks with my mother fills me with Christmas spirit."
"You always stayed at school."
"Not being expected to spend two weeks with my mother fills me with Christmas spirit." Sirius fingered something in his pocket. "Nothing like a nice little war for Christmas, is there? I wonder who we're supposed to --"
"It won't be like that," Remus said, although he hadn't looked at his own orders. He wondered if they were the same. "Probably guarding something."
"Would anyone in their right minds set us to guard something, I wonder?" Sirius's smile was crooked, and didn't make him look cheerful. "A werewolf and a relative of a bunch of bloody maniacs."
Remus lit his own cigarette, although now he wasn't sure he wanted it. "Cheer up," he said.
"Why should I?"
"Does it help matters not to?"
"It makes me feel better," Sirius said. "James and Lily are happy as only a pair of sickeningly sweet lovebirds can be, and I can't say that the weather's bad without one of them cooing 'James loves the rain' or 'I'll bet rain's good for the baby.' At least you don't expect me to be beaming approval at you all the time."
"I promise I don't expect you to be pleasant," Remus said.
Sirius looked up at him as if he'd said something much sharper. "Moony --"
"We shouldn't hang about here," Remus said.
"We used to be up here at all hours," Sirius said. "Do you remember?"
Remus felt suddenly that he couldn't bear it. They were too young to be playing do you remember, too young to look back on their school days as the best days of their lives. There ought to be more to look forward to.
"Fuck all this," he said. He threw his cigarette down, watching the smoke curl up to mar the clear night sky.
Sirius ground out his own cigarette. "Anything in particular?"
Remus turned up his hands helplessly. "The weather's bad," he said, although the night was fine, just cold enough to suit the season.
"I know," Sirius said, coming up behind him. Remus could feel his warmth against his back. He turned and caught Sirius by the shoulders and kissed him hard, the only thing he could think of to do or say that they hadn't done before.
"Oh," Sirius said when Remus broke away, breathing hard, ready to be hit in the face or laughed at or kissed back, and not sure which one he secretly wanted. When none of those happened, Remus kissed him again, at greater length. Sirius put his arms around Remus's waist and kissed him back, which Remus chose to consider somewhat hopeful.
"We still haven't read our orders," Remus said, as he backed off a little from the awkward tangle of arms.
Sirius frowned. "Is now the bloody time?"
"Is there going to be a better one?"
"Later," Sirius said. "In the morning."
"It's the longest night of the year."
"It'll be morning soon enough," Sirius said. He didn't look up at the stars overhead, but Remus couldn't help knowing they'd moved, marking the lost fragment of an hour in their relentless way.
"Let's go in," he said; he didn't want to spend any longer under their cold, clear light.