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Horatio Alger is Dead [Harry Potter]
Title: Horatio Alger is Dead
Fandom: Harry Potter
Summary: " the ways and means to breach the borders of easy street" (for 31_days_exchnge)
Characters/Pairings: Remus Lupin
Genre: Angst, Ficlet
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, Thoughts of Suicide
Word Count: 260
Horatio Alger is Dead
Too much had happened, too much time had passed. Work is harder to find, his money scarcer. The moons come with more pain, leave with more malingering sickness. As a boy, in clothes too big but not nearly as threadbare as the ones he owns now that his mother passed, easy street and success were to be found in hard work and good employment. Or so he had imagined. Now, he watches the immoral live lives of luxury: the Malfoys buy beauty potions more expensive than the Wolfsbane he cannot afford. America's Horatio Alger had never come to Great Britain. If, in fact, he had ever even come to America.
Remus Lupin is spending his day before the full moon eying the nondescript clump of plant-and-flower that sits on his table top. One cup of sweet-tasting tea, and a tried and true ticket to easy street would be bought and paid for, stamped by the conductor. He would drift off to sleep peacefully. There is no one left to mourn him. He has no friends, no family. No job.
Remus sighs and rubs a chilled hand across his forehead. He holds a dried flower, twirls it, and flings it into the kitchen fire before pouring from the pot-- lemon spice tea, and not poisonous in the least-- into his mug.
After all, Remus Lupin is a Marauder. Marauders never choose easy if there is some more difficult way to go. To others, it's a senseless philosophy. It makes complete sense to Remus.
Hell, it makes no sense at all. But it keeps him going.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Summary: " the ways and means to breach the borders of easy street" (for 31_days_exchnge)
Characters/Pairings: Remus Lupin
Genre: Angst, Ficlet
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, Thoughts of Suicide
Word Count: 260
Horatio Alger is Dead
Too much had happened, too much time had passed. Work is harder to find, his money scarcer. The moons come with more pain, leave with more malingering sickness. As a boy, in clothes too big but not nearly as threadbare as the ones he owns now that his mother passed, easy street and success were to be found in hard work and good employment. Or so he had imagined. Now, he watches the immoral live lives of luxury: the Malfoys buy beauty potions more expensive than the Wolfsbane he cannot afford. America's Horatio Alger had never come to Great Britain. If, in fact, he had ever even come to America.
Remus Lupin is spending his day before the full moon eying the nondescript clump of plant-and-flower that sits on his table top. One cup of sweet-tasting tea, and a tried and true ticket to easy street would be bought and paid for, stamped by the conductor. He would drift off to sleep peacefully. There is no one left to mourn him. He has no friends, no family. No job.
Remus sighs and rubs a chilled hand across his forehead. He holds a dried flower, twirls it, and flings it into the kitchen fire before pouring from the pot-- lemon spice tea, and not poisonous in the least-- into his mug.
After all, Remus Lupin is a Marauder. Marauders never choose easy if there is some more difficult way to go. To others, it's a senseless philosophy. It makes complete sense to Remus.
Hell, it makes no sense at all. But it keeps him going.