Forget to Remember
Pairing: Remus Lupin/Sirius Black
Theme set: Alpha
Author’s note: This is a little challenge from LJ called 13_drabbles, and obviously will contain 13 drabbles. I have chosen to write about Remus/Sirius because I had forgotten about them.
Forget to Remember
Remus lets his feet drop into the cool and dark water; they cause small ripples to spread deep into the lake.
(every action causes an equal and opposite reaction)
He had been sleeping by the lake’s edge for four hours, wrapped in a moth-eaten blanket, the brisk autumn air causing the fine hairs on his arms to stand and sway.
He thought he would wait just a little bit longer, he never knew he’d be waiting forever.
For someone who could never believe in the small things, like remembering a second date, or forgetting to kiss you before you fell asleep.
He would wait for just too long, Sirius would forget to remember.
2. Running Away
Running away was easy.
You ran all the way to the owlery, your hands outstretched so they could trace the rough stones as you tumbled up the stairs.
He was sitting in the dirty straw that littered the floor, a paperback novel in his gloved hands, his head resting against the rounded wall.
“You have to face your problems Padfoot” he spoke calmly, with a resigned look on his face, understanding you so well.
But it hurts to stand still, it is too quiet, it feels as if something is about to break. So you shuffle your feet and shove your hands in your pocket, biting down on your lower lip.
“I’m not going anyway” he smiled.
And he didn’t, you were the one that ran.
Running away was easy.
His hair was the colour of melted chocolate in the light from the fading sun.
Most people thought it was black, but you knew it had the smallest amount of brown in there.
(perhaps that was why you ate so much chocolate)
His body looked broken as it lay in the light of the dappled sunrise.
You moved your head higher up on the pillow so you could look at him, imperfect and perfect at the same time.
The angles of his legs and the contour lines of the scars that plagued his back formed a puzzle in your head that you couldn’t quite work out.
(perhaps that was why you drank so much)
4. Make Believe
He told you stories in the lazy afternoons.
Your head rested on his knee, your eyes trailing the lines on his face.
You loved to watch his facial expression as he stumbled along alliterations and personifications; a raised eyebrow, a fumbling lip, a twitching nose.
One of his hands twisted in your hair, the other hand turning the pages of the paperback.
He told you of vampires and unicorns and giants, of unbreakable vows and draughts of true love.
You breathed in the sweet smell of happiness, your head rested on his knee.
“… and they flew across
Remus doesn’t know if he’s going blind, or if he simply can’t see anyone else anymore.
They are sitting in the library, the four of them, but all he can see is Sirius.
Their feet are intertwined under the table; Sirius’ sock is touching his leg.
He has his head to one side, his grey eyes following the lines in his transfiguration textbook in boredom, the feather of his quill brushing his mouth. The sleeves of his school shirt have been rolled back, his tie is off center, his top button undone.
Everything else is in shades of grey.
Sirius is colour.
6. Old Sayings
Sirius turned from his view of the quidditch pitch to face Moony.
He had suddenly heard Andromeda’s voice in his head, and he knew why she had left, why she had married a muggle.
“The journey of a thousand miles must start with a single step.”
“What?” Moony looked up from his game of chess.
Sirius crossed the distance between them, placing his hand at the back of Moony’s neck drawing their lips together.
It tasted like sweet honey and golden fields, cold watermelon on a summer’s day and a steaming butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks.
“The Journey of a thousand miles must start with a single step.”
Remus woke up groggily, his eyes swollen with sleep, slowly bring the boy beside him into focus.
Sirius’ legs were tangled in the white sheets, his breathing was slow and regulated, Remus could feel it brushing the hairs on the side of his neck.
Remus didn’t know how long he watched Sirius dozing until his own eyelids lifted.
“I’ve been dreaming about you Moony. You danced for me on the table, covered in cram with a cherry right in the middle of your head” He smiled a sleepy smile.
Remus rolled his eyes before replying, “You’re weird”.
“Weird as in sexy, or weird as in ha ha?”
“Weird as in sexy, of course”.
On the Christmas holidays the coffee was cold at James’ house.
You tried not to complain, but the plum pudding tasted bitter, the eggnog was too thick.
You sat by the fire, a false smile performing on your thin lips, your tongue playing with the back of your teeth in a stately boredom.
You laughed at all the jokes, sang along to all the cheesy carols, helped to decorate the tree.
All you could feel were Moony’s rough arms around your shoulders, his Christmas present in your lap, his family accepting you like the Potter’s did.
They didn’t know you were queer.
So you came undone.
The sky is a delicate shade of frosty blue, contrasted against the leafless silhouette of the whomping willow.
When it has no leaves, at the new side of Christmas, it feels barren and cold, symbolising the negative, the unfamiliar, the feared.
Like a box a chocolates laced with poison.
Like Sirius singing in the shower.
You are terrified he will sing about you, that his vocal cords will echo lines of ‘monster’, ‘hate’, ‘lie’ and ‘over’.
It is your greatest fear.
That he will end it with a song.
You clutch the brown paper parcels to your chest, one hand in your pocket, your fingers tightly clenched around your wand.
Diagon Alley is not what is once was.
You can’t see Remus in Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Palrlour, the tip of a spoon in his mouth
Remus isn’t in Flourish and Blotts, his back against a bookcase.
The crowd moves like fluid on this hot July day, they don’t stop to chat, like they once did.
You clutch the brown paper parcels to your chest.
Even in this war you would bring chocolate muffins home to Remus.
11. Done Away With
You wake from nightmares, blurred moons and falling friends.
Your hand reaches desperately for the bedside clock, its magical hands clicking into an ungodly hour.
The space beside you is empty, occupied only by crumbled sheets and stale smells.
Sirius is still with the Order, drawing maps was always his specialty.
Sometimes he would fall asleep at the headquarters, his hair connecting fine lines between muggle
He would make coffee in the morning, the map transferred to the side of his face, tracing his cheekbones.
You lay beside the empty space, done away with.
Done away with.
In all the years of war and discrimination, he has learnt that the only safe thing is himself.
He cuts out the newspaper clippings, re-reading the lines printed about Sirius before tearing them into tiny pieces and feeding them through the eye of a needle.
In the dusty mirror he sees Sirius betraying them all in turn.
His hand stretching out to take Remus’ chin.
(like he always did)
But his mouth is full of blood, his hands are as cold as death.
In the pantomime of Remus’ mind, Sirius betrays them all.
13. You and Me
There were no shadows in Remus’ dilapidated flat.
(His lampshades were of a deep grey).
You stood so still in the room, so silent. Terrified of betraying even a splinter of your inner self.
Even though there was nothing left to betray.
He spoke from the corner.
“Nothing changes you. I left you because I knew I could not change you”.
You tried to retreat into the empty spaces, suddenly vulnerable (as if naked) outside the confines of your Azkaban cell.
“You killed everything within me.”
He is exhausted, not from Azkaban but from solitude. He is alone.
“Can’t you see Remus, can’t you see.”
You and Me.