The Morning After (Remus-centric, post Sirius and his lost battle with draperies)
The Morning After (Harry Potter, PG-13)
Remus Lupin and the morning after an incident involving Sirius Black and a veil.
Remus wakes up quite early in the morning with a terrible head ache and remembers everything involving Sirius Black and a veil. His headache worsens right from the get-go.
Slipping out of bed and clad in his plaid pajamas with the thinning thread, his mind flashes back to a conversation he and Sirius had the night before yesterday. Sirius and Remus were drinking cheap wine because that was all Remus could afford when Sirius said, “Dear God, you still have those pajamas? I swear I’m going to buy you a new one. And what kind of grown man wears pajamas to sleep anymore? What ever happened to good old sleeping in the nude?” Flashing back to reality, Remus supposes Sirius will never to get buy him new pajamas like he swore he would and humph!, it’s just like Sirius to never do what he says he’s going to do. Remus resolves to go out today and buy himself a new pair of pajamas on his own, without Sirius, because he is Remus J. Lupin and he can do whatever the hell he pleases. The J (for John) in his name even makes him sound all suave and uppity so hell yeah.
Tea seems like a good idea at the time. Remus steps out of the room that isn’t his room and goes down the stairs that aren’t his stairs and walks into the kitchen that isn’t his kitchen. But he doesn’t feel like an intruder in the Black mansion, not at all. Instead he feels like he’s in a homely, yet sometimes menacingly dark, hotel and he is the only guest. The silence is really begging to nag at his head and it doesn’t help his headache.
When Remus makes tea, he sets out two cups. He pours tea in his cup and pours tea in Sirius’s cup. He puts one sugar cube in his and four in Sirius’s because Sirius has always had four sugar cubes in his tea and after countless years of putting four sugar cubes in Sirius’s tea, there is no way Sirius will ask for three or five today. Remus drowns his tea. Sirius’s teacup remains untouched. Remus grabs Sirius’s teacup and hurls it the wall. Sirius’s mother screeches from her painting. He feels ashamed of himself because he isn’t the violent kind of man. He mops up the mess and sweeps the broken shards into a dustpan. He finds his little outbreak to be really unbecoming of him. Things like that should be left to Sirius, the king of spontaneous explosions. Mrs. Black’s incessant wailing and screeching make Remus silently beg for the throbbing in his head to subside. The throbbing does not subside, and neither does Mrs. Black.
When Remus is done cleaning up, he goes back to finish his tea (It’s Earl Grey). By the time he finishes, Mrs. Black runs out of air in her painting-lung-capacity and goes back to sulking. Then Remus makes a noise. It’s a funny little noise and it sounds loud in the empty house. He makes another funny little noise and then he lets out a little chuckle. Little noises call for a little chuckle. And then Remus begins to cry and make choking noises instead of funny noises and he buries his face in the palms of his hand and he doesn’t care if this is his second outbreak and it is very unbecoming of him as a grown man because goddamnit, everything is too fucking quiet without Sirius around.
Remus Lupin and the morning after an incident involving Sirius Black and a veil.
Remus wakes up quite early in the morning with a terrible head ache and remembers everything involving Sirius Black and a veil. His headache worsens right from the get-go.
Slipping out of bed and clad in his plaid pajamas with the thinning thread, his mind flashes back to a conversation he and Sirius had the night before yesterday. Sirius and Remus were drinking cheap wine because that was all Remus could afford when Sirius said, “Dear God, you still have those pajamas? I swear I’m going to buy you a new one. And what kind of grown man wears pajamas to sleep anymore? What ever happened to good old sleeping in the nude?” Flashing back to reality, Remus supposes Sirius will never to get buy him new pajamas like he swore he would and humph!, it’s just like Sirius to never do what he says he’s going to do. Remus resolves to go out today and buy himself a new pair of pajamas on his own, without Sirius, because he is Remus J. Lupin and he can do whatever the hell he pleases. The J (for John) in his name even makes him sound all suave and uppity so hell yeah.
Tea seems like a good idea at the time. Remus steps out of the room that isn’t his room and goes down the stairs that aren’t his stairs and walks into the kitchen that isn’t his kitchen. But he doesn’t feel like an intruder in the Black mansion, not at all. Instead he feels like he’s in a homely, yet sometimes menacingly dark, hotel and he is the only guest. The silence is really begging to nag at his head and it doesn’t help his headache.
When Remus makes tea, he sets out two cups. He pours tea in his cup and pours tea in Sirius’s cup. He puts one sugar cube in his and four in Sirius’s because Sirius has always had four sugar cubes in his tea and after countless years of putting four sugar cubes in Sirius’s tea, there is no way Sirius will ask for three or five today. Remus drowns his tea. Sirius’s teacup remains untouched. Remus grabs Sirius’s teacup and hurls it the wall. Sirius’s mother screeches from her painting. He feels ashamed of himself because he isn’t the violent kind of man. He mops up the mess and sweeps the broken shards into a dustpan. He finds his little outbreak to be really unbecoming of him. Things like that should be left to Sirius, the king of spontaneous explosions. Mrs. Black’s incessant wailing and screeching make Remus silently beg for the throbbing in his head to subside. The throbbing does not subside, and neither does Mrs. Black.
When Remus is done cleaning up, he goes back to finish his tea (It’s Earl Grey). By the time he finishes, Mrs. Black runs out of air in her painting-lung-capacity and goes back to sulking. Then Remus makes a noise. It’s a funny little noise and it sounds loud in the empty house. He makes another funny little noise and then he lets out a little chuckle. Little noises call for a little chuckle. And then Remus begins to cry and make choking noises instead of funny noises and he buries his face in the palms of his hand and he doesn’t care if this is his second outbreak and it is very unbecoming of him as a grown man because goddamnit, everything is too fucking quiet without Sirius around.