eumenides1 & _titan
Author: eumenides1
Title: Alive
Pairing: Remus/Harry
Theme: Let rain fall from concrete coloured skies/ no boy don’t speak now you just drive. - Bic Runga, Drive
Remus slid the car expertly through the busy London streets, tyres slicing across standing water, while Harry stood frozen, dumbly watching through the drizzle as the battered old Skoda pulled up to the kerb.
He'd almost made it. He'd been within a stone's throw of the Ministry, could feel the pull of the Veil drawing him, the invisibility cloak had been halfway out of his pack when Remus had run him to ground. His former teacher and godfather's best friend stood next to the car, rivulets of water streaking his hair, looking at Harry with an odd mixture of sorrow and love and utter exhaustion on his lined face.
"Why?" he'd asked. But Harry couldn't say why. He couldn't explain why he'd made yet another attempt, the third that long summer to return to Sirius' resting place.
"Because I have to," he answered simply. Remus nodded slowly, and Harry was not sure if the water on his face was rain or something else.
"I understand," Remus whispered, but he took Harry's arm and led him inexorably back to the car, back to the captivity of the Dursleys, back to his solitude. Thunder rumbled, and tears fell from slate-grey skies.
Author: Abby (_titan)
Title: The Science of Healing
Rating: NC-17
Keywords: L/Hr, R/Hr (not that R), R/H/Hr(yes, that R), S/R
Notes: A big huge massive thank you to melpemone for her infinite patience as it took me fo’evah to get this to her. It’s un-beta’d and barely spell-checked. Forgive!
Remus slid the car expertly through the busy London streets, tyres slicing across standing water, while Harry stood frozen, dumbly watching through the drizzle as the battered old Skoda pulled up to the kerb.
He'd almost made it. He'd been within a stone's throw of the Ministry, could feel the pull of the Veil drawing him, the invisibility cloak had been halfway out of his pack when Remus had run him to ground. His former teacher and godfather's best friend stood next to the car, rivulets of water streaking his hair, looking at Harry with an odd mixture of sorrow and love and utter exhaustion on his lined face.
"Why?" he'd asked. But Harry couldn't say why. He couldn't explain why he'd made yet another attempt, the third that long summer to return to Sirius' resting place.
"Because I have to," he answered simply. Remus nodded slowly, and Harry was not sure if the water on his face was rain or something else.
"I understand," Remus whispered, but he took Harry's arm and led him inexorably back to the car, back to the captivity of the Dursleys, back to his solitude. Thunder rumbled, and tears fell from slate-grey skies.
Remus looked over at Harry. It faded in and out as they passed under the London streetlights. The rain cast uncertain shadows across his face and Remus felt that for a 15-year-old, his face looked remarkably old. Lines of grief and exhaustion seemed to carve his face into something not quite human. A sudden honk cause him to jerk around, and Remus stood on the brakes, silently cursing himself for the lapse of attention. “It wouldn’t do to get ourselves killed, now would it?” he though, and then chuckled under his breath. “Or perhaps Harry would thank me in the next life… Maybe Sirius would…” Remus stopped himself there. He couldn’t keep going on in front of Harry.
--------------------
Later, as they staggered into 12 Grimmauld Place, Remus placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder and turned him. “I’m sorry Harry, but you need to eat.”
Harry didn’t speak, only stared at an umbrella stand and nodded. When Remus released his shoulder, Harry turned, defeated and walked into the kitchen, still soaking. Remus stood in the hall, listening to Mrs.Weasley’s gasp, and the low rumble of male voices. Remus didn’t want to go in. The male voice he longed to hear wasn’t in there. It never would be again. He turned and walked up the stairs.
Three flights of stairs and he reached his room. It had been Sirius’ room once. Remus wondered why he had insisted, at the beginning of the summer, to stay in this room. Pushing the mahogany door open, he considered. It hurt, every time he opened the door, but it was precious, just the same. Here had been nights of friendship and eventually, pleasure and deep love. It didn’t make anything hurt less, but Remus would be damned if he forgot. He wanted, more than anything, more than even wanting to see Sirius again, to never ever forget.
____________________
Remus was woken by a hand strokeing his shoulder. “Padfoot, I’m trying to sleep.”
Even in the dark, he could feel Sirius grin. “I’m bored, Moony.”
Remus tried to roll over, but Sirius’ body was too close, and he rolled into him. Remus suddenly understood what Sirius meant when he said “bored”.
“Why Padfoot, you are a wonder. 5 times in one night?”
“Well Moony, it’s quite rare I get my lover in my own bed. Might as well make the most of it.”
Remus smiled as Sirius began kissing his shoulder…
And Remus, now sitting on the edge of that bed, laid his head in his hands and wept.
_____________________
Now he lay in bed, his raincoat and shoes off, staring at the ceiling and wondering if he could bear one night alone in this horrid, cold bed. He wondered if she would come. He wondered if the previous night was the last time he would lay her down in the bed that he and Sirius had shared and close his eyes and try to pretend the body beneath him was Sirius.
Hours past and the footsteps come and go. Finally, it gets late and the footsteps grow quiet and cease. He hasn’t moved. He still stares at ceiling when an almost imperceivable gust of air brushes his face and he knows she came.
A click confirms this and he tilts his head to look at her. She stands by the door, her hair down around her shoulders and her light blue cotton nightgown polls around her feet. He never asked her why she wears a nightgown that is too long for her. They never talk during their encounters. Not even the first time.
He shakes his head and sits up, and begins to unbutton his shirt. He glances up once. She was walking toward him, a face full of guilt and anticipation and fear. Her hands are feeling their way up to the top button of her nightgown. She could just pull it over her head, but this was how she always undress before him, unbuttoning and letting it fall to the ground. She did this now and he hardened almost instantly at the sight of her small breasts and dark hair. He pulled off his shirt and began to unbutton and unzip his pants.
The bed shifted as she got on. Small hands helped pull his pants down and off and a small, red mouth took him in. He leaned back and groaned in the back of his throat.
She went on and finally he couldn’t stand it any more and grabbed her roughly, throwing her against the bed. He closed his eyes and climbed onto her, pushing into her and forgetting everything but Sirius. Even when he said Sirius’ name, over and over, she never said anything. She writhed and moaned and came and he came and rolled off her. She got up and off the bed and walked over to her discarded nightgown. She dressed like she undressed, stepping into the blue gown, pulling it up and buttoning it. Without looking at him, she turned and left the room. Remus lay on his back, naked and stared at the ceiling. Sirius was gone. Tears came and he did not try to stop them. No matter how he tried, how hard he closed his eyes and wished and bargained with God, the little girl with the bird-like bones and the tangled hair would never turn into Sirius.
--------------------
The next morning he opened his door and Hermione was sitting there, back against the wall and book in hand. She was wearing jeans and a blue sweater the same color as her nightgown. His heart leaped.
Looking up at him, she snapped her book closed. “I thought I should tell you.”
She stopped and hoisted herself to her feet, dusting her backside off. She looked up at him again. Her eyes were red-rimmed and curiously blank.
“Harry saw me leave your room last night.” With that, she left.
He had no choice. He went down the stairs, his mind strangely blank. Shouldn’t he be thinking about Harry? What would Harry think of him, having sex with someone who could be his daughter? Why did he do it in the first place? Did he love Sirius? Why, why?
All the questions stopped when he reached the ground floor. Harry stood there. His face was strange, twisted in a way Remus could not bare to see.
“Why?”
Remus started at the sound of his voice. Why? Why.
“Because I had to.”
They stood there in silence, regarding each other. And then Harry’s face softened and he nodded. A sudden understanding past between them and Remus realized that OMGZ Sirius had been banging Harry and he killed him right there on the spot, the little slut.
Actually, I’m kidding.
… A sudden understanding passed between them, one of lost love and fragile rebuilding. Remus put his hand on Harry’s shoulder and they turned and walked into the kitchen.
Title: Alive
Pairing: Remus/Harry
Theme: Let rain fall from concrete coloured skies/ no boy don’t speak now you just drive. - Bic Runga, Drive
Remus slid the car expertly through the busy London streets, tyres slicing across standing water, while Harry stood frozen, dumbly watching through the drizzle as the battered old Skoda pulled up to the kerb.
He'd almost made it. He'd been within a stone's throw of the Ministry, could feel the pull of the Veil drawing him, the invisibility cloak had been halfway out of his pack when Remus had run him to ground. His former teacher and godfather's best friend stood next to the car, rivulets of water streaking his hair, looking at Harry with an odd mixture of sorrow and love and utter exhaustion on his lined face.
"Why?" he'd asked. But Harry couldn't say why. He couldn't explain why he'd made yet another attempt, the third that long summer to return to Sirius' resting place.
"Because I have to," he answered simply. Remus nodded slowly, and Harry was not sure if the water on his face was rain or something else.
"I understand," Remus whispered, but he took Harry's arm and led him inexorably back to the car, back to the captivity of the Dursleys, back to his solitude. Thunder rumbled, and tears fell from slate-grey skies.
Author: Abby (_titan)
Title: The Science of Healing
Rating: NC-17
Keywords: L/Hr, R/Hr (not that R), R/H/Hr(yes, that R), S/R
Notes: A big huge massive thank you to melpemone for her infinite patience as it took me fo’evah to get this to her. It’s un-beta’d and barely spell-checked. Forgive!
Remus slid the car expertly through the busy London streets, tyres slicing across standing water, while Harry stood frozen, dumbly watching through the drizzle as the battered old Skoda pulled up to the kerb.
He'd almost made it. He'd been within a stone's throw of the Ministry, could feel the pull of the Veil drawing him, the invisibility cloak had been halfway out of his pack when Remus had run him to ground. His former teacher and godfather's best friend stood next to the car, rivulets of water streaking his hair, looking at Harry with an odd mixture of sorrow and love and utter exhaustion on his lined face.
"Why?" he'd asked. But Harry couldn't say why. He couldn't explain why he'd made yet another attempt, the third that long summer to return to Sirius' resting place.
"Because I have to," he answered simply. Remus nodded slowly, and Harry was not sure if the water on his face was rain or something else.
"I understand," Remus whispered, but he took Harry's arm and led him inexorably back to the car, back to the captivity of the Dursleys, back to his solitude. Thunder rumbled, and tears fell from slate-grey skies.
Remus looked over at Harry. It faded in and out as they passed under the London streetlights. The rain cast uncertain shadows across his face and Remus felt that for a 15-year-old, his face looked remarkably old. Lines of grief and exhaustion seemed to carve his face into something not quite human. A sudden honk cause him to jerk around, and Remus stood on the brakes, silently cursing himself for the lapse of attention. “It wouldn’t do to get ourselves killed, now would it?” he though, and then chuckled under his breath. “Or perhaps Harry would thank me in the next life… Maybe Sirius would…” Remus stopped himself there. He couldn’t keep going on in front of Harry.
--------------------
Later, as they staggered into 12 Grimmauld Place, Remus placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder and turned him. “I’m sorry Harry, but you need to eat.”
Harry didn’t speak, only stared at an umbrella stand and nodded. When Remus released his shoulder, Harry turned, defeated and walked into the kitchen, still soaking. Remus stood in the hall, listening to Mrs.Weasley’s gasp, and the low rumble of male voices. Remus didn’t want to go in. The male voice he longed to hear wasn’t in there. It never would be again. He turned and walked up the stairs.
Three flights of stairs and he reached his room. It had been Sirius’ room once. Remus wondered why he had insisted, at the beginning of the summer, to stay in this room. Pushing the mahogany door open, he considered. It hurt, every time he opened the door, but it was precious, just the same. Here had been nights of friendship and eventually, pleasure and deep love. It didn’t make anything hurt less, but Remus would be damned if he forgot. He wanted, more than anything, more than even wanting to see Sirius again, to never ever forget.
____________________
Remus was woken by a hand strokeing his shoulder. “Padfoot, I’m trying to sleep.”
Even in the dark, he could feel Sirius grin. “I’m bored, Moony.”
Remus tried to roll over, but Sirius’ body was too close, and he rolled into him. Remus suddenly understood what Sirius meant when he said “bored”.
“Why Padfoot, you are a wonder. 5 times in one night?”
“Well Moony, it’s quite rare I get my lover in my own bed. Might as well make the most of it.”
Remus smiled as Sirius began kissing his shoulder…
And Remus, now sitting on the edge of that bed, laid his head in his hands and wept.
_____________________
Now he lay in bed, his raincoat and shoes off, staring at the ceiling and wondering if he could bear one night alone in this horrid, cold bed. He wondered if she would come. He wondered if the previous night was the last time he would lay her down in the bed that he and Sirius had shared and close his eyes and try to pretend the body beneath him was Sirius.
Hours past and the footsteps come and go. Finally, it gets late and the footsteps grow quiet and cease. He hasn’t moved. He still stares at ceiling when an almost imperceivable gust of air brushes his face and he knows she came.
A click confirms this and he tilts his head to look at her. She stands by the door, her hair down around her shoulders and her light blue cotton nightgown polls around her feet. He never asked her why she wears a nightgown that is too long for her. They never talk during their encounters. Not even the first time.
He shakes his head and sits up, and begins to unbutton his shirt. He glances up once. She was walking toward him, a face full of guilt and anticipation and fear. Her hands are feeling their way up to the top button of her nightgown. She could just pull it over her head, but this was how she always undress before him, unbuttoning and letting it fall to the ground. She did this now and he hardened almost instantly at the sight of her small breasts and dark hair. He pulled off his shirt and began to unbutton and unzip his pants.
The bed shifted as she got on. Small hands helped pull his pants down and off and a small, red mouth took him in. He leaned back and groaned in the back of his throat.
She went on and finally he couldn’t stand it any more and grabbed her roughly, throwing her against the bed. He closed his eyes and climbed onto her, pushing into her and forgetting everything but Sirius. Even when he said Sirius’ name, over and over, she never said anything. She writhed and moaned and came and he came and rolled off her. She got up and off the bed and walked over to her discarded nightgown. She dressed like she undressed, stepping into the blue gown, pulling it up and buttoning it. Without looking at him, she turned and left the room. Remus lay on his back, naked and stared at the ceiling. Sirius was gone. Tears came and he did not try to stop them. No matter how he tried, how hard he closed his eyes and wished and bargained with God, the little girl with the bird-like bones and the tangled hair would never turn into Sirius.
--------------------
The next morning he opened his door and Hermione was sitting there, back against the wall and book in hand. She was wearing jeans and a blue sweater the same color as her nightgown. His heart leaped.
Looking up at him, she snapped her book closed. “I thought I should tell you.”
She stopped and hoisted herself to her feet, dusting her backside off. She looked up at him again. Her eyes were red-rimmed and curiously blank.
“Harry saw me leave your room last night.” With that, she left.
He had no choice. He went down the stairs, his mind strangely blank. Shouldn’t he be thinking about Harry? What would Harry think of him, having sex with someone who could be his daughter? Why did he do it in the first place? Did he love Sirius? Why, why?
All the questions stopped when he reached the ground floor. Harry stood there. His face was strange, twisted in a way Remus could not bare to see.
“Why?”
Remus started at the sound of his voice. Why? Why.
“Because I had to.”
They stood there in silence, regarding each other. And then Harry’s face softened and he nodded. A sudden understanding past between them and Remus realized that OMGZ Sirius had been banging Harry and he killed him right there on the spot, the little slut.
Actually, I’m kidding.
… A sudden understanding passed between them, one of lost love and fragile rebuilding. Remus put his hand on Harry’s shoulder and they turned and walked into the kitchen.