FIC: Blame the House Elves
Title: Blame the House Elves
Rating: PG13
Prompt Set: Remus/Sirius 100.3
Prompt: 011 Slow
Word Count: 1282
Genre: Romance/Humour
Summary: Remus Lupin was not gay, so why was it everyone thought he was?
Warnings: Slash and unbeta’d.
Notes: A challenge to myself to write a fic with no dialogue produced this fic as a result. Never realised how much I relied on speech before now. Written for my 100quills prompts challenge.
Disclaimer: I own nothing that you recognise. J K Rowling retains all copyright.
Remus Lupin was not entirely sure when it was that everyone had come to the conclusion that he was gay. He suspected that it had been a long and slow process of little things, accumulating over the years, until it had reached the stage that everyone just assumed he swung that way.
Lily Evans certainly assumed. The opinionated Head Girl had cornered him on the way to lunch one day and had offered to set him up with a muggle boy she knew who was ‘that way inclined’ as she tactfully put it.
Remus had immediately set her straight, but she had merely winked at him and said to let her know if things didn’t work out with whoever it was she obviously suspected he was seeing.
Most, if not all of the Slytherin students assumed as well. Admittedly, they called most Gryffindors one vile name or another, but with Remus their name-calling had definite homophobic undertones.
Remus didn’t bother to set the Slytherins straight. Their opinions were not going to change and he had long since lost patience with trying to reason with them.
His friends on the other hand were a different matter altogether. He had told them repeatedly that he wasn’t gay, but like Lily they had ignored his protests and continued to believe exactly what they wanted.
Now all Remus could do is wonder just when it was that these rumours started, and whether there was anything he could have done to avoid the situation he now found himself in.
He could remember the exact day that the first call of “pouf” had echoed down the halls in his direction. It was the last Monday before the Christmas holidays in his second year at Hogwarts. It was the day his newly laundered shirts had come back from the house elves a rather revolting shade of pink.
It had long since been a policy at Hogwarts that the students sorted out the whites from the coloureds before the laundry was collected by the house elves. It was also the policy that any student who failed to properly sort out their clothes for the laundry had to repair any damage themselves.
It had taken three days of research in the library before Remus had found a way to turn his shirts back to white, and those three days had been filled with taunts and jibes from the rest of the students. By dinner on that first day Remus was sick and tired of hearing the word ‘pouf’ and was heartily wishing he had been sorted into another school house. It wasn’t so bad for the Ravenclaws, Slytherins and Hufflepuffs if they messed up with their laundry. Only the Gryffindor scarlet produced the hideous pink result that he was being forced to wear.
The names had been forgotten by the time the Christmas holidays were over, and Remus had thought little else of it.
He wasn’t a pouf and an accident with the laundry was simply that.
He didn’t think much more about his sexuality until a few years later when it became very clear that whilst he had not been dwelling on whether he fancied boys or girls, other people had been wondering.
His name was Dylan and he was a fourth year in Ravenclaw. He had approached Remus just before the Spring Hogsmeade weekend and shyly asked him if he wanted to go to the village with him on a date.
Remus had been more than a little stunned. It was a close call to say who was stammering the most between the two of them during the awkward conversation. In the end Remus had explained that he already had plans with his friends, but at the crestfallen expression on Dylan’s face he had invited him to join them.
That had been his mistake.
It wasn’t that they were not supportive of his choice. They had practically fallen all over themselves to make sure that he was aware of how much they supported him.
James had told him that he could shag who he wanted and they had all agreed that they would only tease Remus just as much as they teased each other about dates with girls - not that any of them had actually been on a date at this point.
Remus had explained repeatedly that it wasn’t a date. That he was inviting Dylan to spend time with the whole group. That it really wasn’t a date. And that He. Was. Not. Gay.
They had taken no notice of his protestations at all.
It probably didn’t help that when the Hogsmeade weekend arrived Dylan made it very obvious that he still believed that his plans with Remus were very much a proper date.
Remus had balked at suggestions of slipping away from the others for a quiet chat and as the day had worn on, his temper had worn thin, and he had become very close to screaming out for the whole village to hear that HE WAS NOT GAY!
From that day onwards things had gone very downhill.
Girls he had approached to ask out had giggled, explained that they thought he was gay, but never accepted his offer of a date.
By the end of sixth year Remus had pretty much given up on asking out any of the girls in his year. His friends kept telling him that he didn’t need to prove anything to them, and that they liked him just the way he was. Remus ignored them as best he could. He figured that once he was married with a brood of children then they might finally get the point. They were just a little slow on the uptake.
It was harder to ignore Madam Pomfrey. The school healer had always had a bit of a soft spot for him and had decided to have The Talk with him after one of the full moons.
Remus was fairly certain that he had never been more embarrassed in his life. His face had turned crimson as the healer had haltingly explained that even though boys couldn’t get pregnant, he should still take precautions.
Remus had replied that he wasn’t having sex with anyone, but he could tell that she didn’t believe him any more than his friends did.
He had left her office as fast as he could, only to find that Sirius and James had come to find out what was keeping him, and had heard most of the conversation. They had found it hysterically funny, and had repeated Madam Pomfrey’s advice to him at every opportunity for the next two months.
Remus knew that he wasn’t gay. He had never found himself thinking about other boys in that way. He had never had to stop himself checking out another boy’s body. He had never thought about kissing or touching another boy in the same way he had sometimes wondered what it might be like to kiss or touch a girl.
Which was why he was now somewhat surprised to find that he was actually quite liking the way that Sirius Black had him pinned up against the door. He was also rather enjoying the way that Sirius’s mouth was moving against his. And he was really loving the way that Sirius’s tongue was pushing its way into his mouth. He was enjoying all of this way much more than he should for a young man who was, most assuredly, not gay.
From the corner of his eye he spied the laundry basket and the fleeting movement of one of the house elves. He knew exactly where to place the blame for the situation he now found himself in. Bloody house elves.
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100 Quills Prompts Table
Rating: PG13
Prompt Set: Remus/Sirius 100.3
Prompt: 011 Slow
Word Count: 1282
Genre: Romance/Humour
Summary: Remus Lupin was not gay, so why was it everyone thought he was?
Warnings: Slash and unbeta’d.
Notes: A challenge to myself to write a fic with no dialogue produced this fic as a result. Never realised how much I relied on speech before now. Written for my 100quills prompts challenge.
Disclaimer: I own nothing that you recognise. J K Rowling retains all copyright.
Remus Lupin was not entirely sure when it was that everyone had come to the conclusion that he was gay. He suspected that it had been a long and slow process of little things, accumulating over the years, until it had reached the stage that everyone just assumed he swung that way.
Lily Evans certainly assumed. The opinionated Head Girl had cornered him on the way to lunch one day and had offered to set him up with a muggle boy she knew who was ‘that way inclined’ as she tactfully put it.
Remus had immediately set her straight, but she had merely winked at him and said to let her know if things didn’t work out with whoever it was she obviously suspected he was seeing.
Most, if not all of the Slytherin students assumed as well. Admittedly, they called most Gryffindors one vile name or another, but with Remus their name-calling had definite homophobic undertones.
Remus didn’t bother to set the Slytherins straight. Their opinions were not going to change and he had long since lost patience with trying to reason with them.
His friends on the other hand were a different matter altogether. He had told them repeatedly that he wasn’t gay, but like Lily they had ignored his protests and continued to believe exactly what they wanted.
Now all Remus could do is wonder just when it was that these rumours started, and whether there was anything he could have done to avoid the situation he now found himself in.
He could remember the exact day that the first call of “pouf” had echoed down the halls in his direction. It was the last Monday before the Christmas holidays in his second year at Hogwarts. It was the day his newly laundered shirts had come back from the house elves a rather revolting shade of pink.
It had long since been a policy at Hogwarts that the students sorted out the whites from the coloureds before the laundry was collected by the house elves. It was also the policy that any student who failed to properly sort out their clothes for the laundry had to repair any damage themselves.
It had taken three days of research in the library before Remus had found a way to turn his shirts back to white, and those three days had been filled with taunts and jibes from the rest of the students. By dinner on that first day Remus was sick and tired of hearing the word ‘pouf’ and was heartily wishing he had been sorted into another school house. It wasn’t so bad for the Ravenclaws, Slytherins and Hufflepuffs if they messed up with their laundry. Only the Gryffindor scarlet produced the hideous pink result that he was being forced to wear.
The names had been forgotten by the time the Christmas holidays were over, and Remus had thought little else of it.
He wasn’t a pouf and an accident with the laundry was simply that.
He didn’t think much more about his sexuality until a few years later when it became very clear that whilst he had not been dwelling on whether he fancied boys or girls, other people had been wondering.
His name was Dylan and he was a fourth year in Ravenclaw. He had approached Remus just before the Spring Hogsmeade weekend and shyly asked him if he wanted to go to the village with him on a date.
Remus had been more than a little stunned. It was a close call to say who was stammering the most between the two of them during the awkward conversation. In the end Remus had explained that he already had plans with his friends, but at the crestfallen expression on Dylan’s face he had invited him to join them.
That had been his mistake.
It wasn’t that they were not supportive of his choice. They had practically fallen all over themselves to make sure that he was aware of how much they supported him.
James had told him that he could shag who he wanted and they had all agreed that they would only tease Remus just as much as they teased each other about dates with girls - not that any of them had actually been on a date at this point.
Remus had explained repeatedly that it wasn’t a date. That he was inviting Dylan to spend time with the whole group. That it really wasn’t a date. And that He. Was. Not. Gay.
They had taken no notice of his protestations at all.
It probably didn’t help that when the Hogsmeade weekend arrived Dylan made it very obvious that he still believed that his plans with Remus were very much a proper date.
Remus had balked at suggestions of slipping away from the others for a quiet chat and as the day had worn on, his temper had worn thin, and he had become very close to screaming out for the whole village to hear that HE WAS NOT GAY!
From that day onwards things had gone very downhill.
Girls he had approached to ask out had giggled, explained that they thought he was gay, but never accepted his offer of a date.
By the end of sixth year Remus had pretty much given up on asking out any of the girls in his year. His friends kept telling him that he didn’t need to prove anything to them, and that they liked him just the way he was. Remus ignored them as best he could. He figured that once he was married with a brood of children then they might finally get the point. They were just a little slow on the uptake.
It was harder to ignore Madam Pomfrey. The school healer had always had a bit of a soft spot for him and had decided to have The Talk with him after one of the full moons.
Remus was fairly certain that he had never been more embarrassed in his life. His face had turned crimson as the healer had haltingly explained that even though boys couldn’t get pregnant, he should still take precautions.
Remus had replied that he wasn’t having sex with anyone, but he could tell that she didn’t believe him any more than his friends did.
He had left her office as fast as he could, only to find that Sirius and James had come to find out what was keeping him, and had heard most of the conversation. They had found it hysterically funny, and had repeated Madam Pomfrey’s advice to him at every opportunity for the next two months.
Remus knew that he wasn’t gay. He had never found himself thinking about other boys in that way. He had never had to stop himself checking out another boy’s body. He had never thought about kissing or touching another boy in the same way he had sometimes wondered what it might be like to kiss or touch a girl.
Which was why he was now somewhat surprised to find that he was actually quite liking the way that Sirius Black had him pinned up against the door. He was also rather enjoying the way that Sirius’s mouth was moving against his. And he was really loving the way that Sirius’s tongue was pushing its way into his mouth. He was enjoying all of this way much more than he should for a young man who was, most assuredly, not gay.
From the corner of his eye he spied the laundry basket and the fleeting movement of one of the house elves. He knew exactly where to place the blame for the situation he now found himself in. Bloody house elves.
-
100 Quills Prompts Table