(no subject)
Title: Belief Over Misery
Genre: Angst
Rating: G
Characters: Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Marauders
Summary: Some people refuse to be pushed away.
It is silent in 12 Grimmauld Place. Fitting, for a dead man's house.
Remus sits in a battered chair, rubbing his temples as he recalls the past hour, the latest rebuff.
It hadn't gone well. Some people just wouldn't be pushed away.
A fiercely determined scowl that's so familiar it hurts.
"You're being - "
"Monstrous? That's what I am, Nymphadora." In a voice so carefully cold.
"That's rubbish, Remus, and stop calling me - "
"No, it is not. You can't handle what I am, you don't have it in you. Now get out."
A wince that makes him hate himself, and then a tightening of her shoulders.
"Fine, but I'll be back. I'm not just leaving you to be alone here."
A sharp turn, swift steps, and then she's gone.
He sighs, then, closing his eyes and leaning back.
It must be hereditary, that stubborn streak. That absurd, reckless, strident loyalty.
Once, he had yearned for people to care; now, he pleads for them not to. Not this much.
"You don't really want to do this. James - "
"This isn't about James, all right? …Well, maybe a little. But you're my friend, too, and -"
"And I'm a werewolf." His eyes narrow, his voice lowers, and he doesn't feel like a child at all anymore. "Are you forgetting what your parents taught you?"
Disbelief, rage, and Remus thinks he's won; then, a derisive snort.
"I don't give a rat's arse what my parents taught me and you know it. Now stop being a git."
A wry, sad chuckle escapes his dry lips, as his hands tighten on the arm rests; they creak, and his fingers relax.
None of them would have any of it, he remembers.
"James, this is…it's very dangerous."
Eyebrows rise into his wild bangs.
"Yeah, well, I like dangerous."
An irritated, frustrated noise escapes his own throat.
"Listen to me. I know what the consequences could be, I've researched all of it - "
" - Of course you have - "
"And what if it goes wrong? What if you get caught? I know it sounds brilliant, and I know you like a challenge - "
"That isn't the point, you great idiot. That's all true, yeah, but the risks are worth it because it's for you."
Even Peter, and the memory rises before he can throw it away, as he's tried to do with so very many of them.
Peter wears his weaknesses on his sleeve.
"You don't amount to much, you know. You just follow them around, hoping some of it might rub off. You're in so far over your head with this."
A swallow, averted eyes, and it hurts to keep going but he must.
"Admit it, Peter, you're just following them again. You're weak, and daft, and certainly not on our level."
"You don’t mean that." His voice, all quiet timidity as always, but there is determination beneath.
"I know you don't, because you're Remus. You don't think people are worthless. You don't think they're beneath you. You help them, and you care about them, and that's why I want to do this, all right?"
They're gone now, of course. Sirius and James dead, Peter as good as.
He's tried to tell himself it's better that way, that he ought to be alone, but then he had Sirius back, and he knew it was all…
Rubbish.
Slowly, he stands.
He still believes every protest, every rebuttal, every lecture, but maybe…maybe he can believe they'll be all right, for a while.
When he reaches the door, he shakes his head, and smiles.
Nymphadora Tonks would have made one hell of a Marauder.
Genre: Angst
Rating: G
Characters: Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Marauders
Summary: Some people refuse to be pushed away.
It is silent in 12 Grimmauld Place. Fitting, for a dead man's house.
Remus sits in a battered chair, rubbing his temples as he recalls the past hour, the latest rebuff.
It hadn't gone well. Some people just wouldn't be pushed away.
A fiercely determined scowl that's so familiar it hurts.
"You're being - "
"Monstrous? That's what I am, Nymphadora." In a voice so carefully cold.
"That's rubbish, Remus, and stop calling me - "
"No, it is not. You can't handle what I am, you don't have it in you. Now get out."
A wince that makes him hate himself, and then a tightening of her shoulders.
"Fine, but I'll be back. I'm not just leaving you to be alone here."
A sharp turn, swift steps, and then she's gone.
He sighs, then, closing his eyes and leaning back.
It must be hereditary, that stubborn streak. That absurd, reckless, strident loyalty.
Once, he had yearned for people to care; now, he pleads for them not to. Not this much.
"You don't really want to do this. James - "
"This isn't about James, all right? …Well, maybe a little. But you're my friend, too, and -"
"And I'm a werewolf." His eyes narrow, his voice lowers, and he doesn't feel like a child at all anymore. "Are you forgetting what your parents taught you?"
Disbelief, rage, and Remus thinks he's won; then, a derisive snort.
"I don't give a rat's arse what my parents taught me and you know it. Now stop being a git."
A wry, sad chuckle escapes his dry lips, as his hands tighten on the arm rests; they creak, and his fingers relax.
None of them would have any of it, he remembers.
"James, this is…it's very dangerous."
Eyebrows rise into his wild bangs.
"Yeah, well, I like dangerous."
An irritated, frustrated noise escapes his own throat.
"Listen to me. I know what the consequences could be, I've researched all of it - "
" - Of course you have - "
"And what if it goes wrong? What if you get caught? I know it sounds brilliant, and I know you like a challenge - "
"That isn't the point, you great idiot. That's all true, yeah, but the risks are worth it because it's for you."
Even Peter, and the memory rises before he can throw it away, as he's tried to do with so very many of them.
Peter wears his weaknesses on his sleeve.
"You don't amount to much, you know. You just follow them around, hoping some of it might rub off. You're in so far over your head with this."
A swallow, averted eyes, and it hurts to keep going but he must.
"Admit it, Peter, you're just following them again. You're weak, and daft, and certainly not on our level."
"You don’t mean that." His voice, all quiet timidity as always, but there is determination beneath.
"I know you don't, because you're Remus. You don't think people are worthless. You don't think they're beneath you. You help them, and you care about them, and that's why I want to do this, all right?"
They're gone now, of course. Sirius and James dead, Peter as good as.
He's tried to tell himself it's better that way, that he ought to be alone, but then he had Sirius back, and he knew it was all…
Rubbish.
Slowly, he stands.
He still believes every protest, every rebuttal, every lecture, but maybe…maybe he can believe they'll be all right, for a while.
When he reaches the door, he shakes his head, and smiles.
Nymphadora Tonks would have made one hell of a Marauder.