(no subject)
Title:
Love is a fragile butterfly.
It’s spreads it wings,
And takes sweet nectar,
Leaving nothing in it’s wake,
Except a dying flower.
They don’t understand, none of them do, not James, nor Sirius, nor Peter, least of all Peter. They don’t understand him at all. James and Sirius have each another, and Peter; for it was clear for all to see that he revels them, and worships the ground that the walk on. But Remus has nothing, except his sinister secret, which causes him to disappear every month under the glow of a full moon.
They have noticed his disappearances, of course, but he always has a valid excuse ready and waiting, for the questions that he meets upon his return. He doesn’t tell them. He doesn’t tell anybody. He’s afraid.
He’s afraid that they will leave him, just like everyone else. He has learnt from the painful experiences, the sticks and stones, the knuckles and fists, and the harsh names, so he keeps quiet.
But sometimes, it gets too painful. The mutual understanding of the two best friends, who are always there for each another, the intensity of their bond, and their willingness to share. He retreats to his books, and they don’t notice his wounds. They only call him a bookworm.
Lately he has been spending a lot of time in the library under the excuse of revising for his OWLS. They had been teasing him about his crush. They had noticed him staring at Narcissa in the Great Hall and had forced him to confess.
He feels safe in the library. He thinks that it is the only place that nobody will find him. He has found a little, dark alcove all to himself, away from everybody else, in which to read in peace. He keeps this place secret, too.
He is in his alcove again, tonight, with his Defence Against Dark Arts syllabus propped on his knees. He is crouching on the balls of his feet, a position that he feels conformable. It is almost complete blackness, but Remus doesn’t mind, he likes to read in the dark.
He has an acute sense of edginess, like he always does just before the night a full moon. He can hear everyone in the library, the scratch of the quills, the creak of the chairs and the rustle of parchment. If he strain, he can almost decipher the silent whispers of lovers muttered in hidden crevices. He imagines what it will be like to show Narcissa his hiding place, to take her here and wrap her in his scent.
He hears the sound of a couple, heading for the concealment of darkness, their soft footsteps reverberate, bouncing from bookshelf to bookshelf, making it impossible for Remus to pinpoint their location. He hears giggling. It’s her.
They are heading his way. But he can’t move, he is frozen with anticipation, with excitement. His heart pounds in his chest. And then it is too late; Remus sees them, their tangled limbs, breathing hard, and with their robes half undone. He is kissing her. She does not belong to him. Remus almost growls.
They see him, now, that he has stood up and stepped out from his hidden place.
“Look what we have here,” Lucius snarls, swaggering towards him, “one of Potter’s minions.”
Remus doesn’t know what to do, or why he left the safety of his alcove.
“He’s all alone.”
Remus looks at her; her eyes are the colour of steel. He meets her gaze, and finds emotions there, underneath the frigid surface. Remus glances between them, and he can see Lucius’ possessiveness and her, she has a craving for power, which she keeps veiled.
She notices the book at Remus’ feet.
“Come, let’s leave him to his reading.” And she leads Lucius away.
Author:esmaraldo
Rating:G, though it may be a little disturbing.
Pairing: Remus/Narcissa
Notes: I intended this to be the first instalment of many, but it never really worked out. Still, I like this snippet.
Love is a fragile butterfly.
It’s spreads it wings,
And takes sweet nectar,
Leaving nothing in it’s wake,
Except a dying flower.
They don’t understand, none of them do, not James, nor Sirius, nor Peter, least of all Peter. They don’t understand him at all. James and Sirius have each another, and Peter; for it was clear for all to see that he revels them, and worships the ground that the walk on. But Remus has nothing, except his sinister secret, which causes him to disappear every month under the glow of a full moon.
They have noticed his disappearances, of course, but he always has a valid excuse ready and waiting, for the questions that he meets upon his return. He doesn’t tell them. He doesn’t tell anybody. He’s afraid.
He’s afraid that they will leave him, just like everyone else. He has learnt from the painful experiences, the sticks and stones, the knuckles and fists, and the harsh names, so he keeps quiet.
But sometimes, it gets too painful. The mutual understanding of the two best friends, who are always there for each another, the intensity of their bond, and their willingness to share. He retreats to his books, and they don’t notice his wounds. They only call him a bookworm.
Lately he has been spending a lot of time in the library under the excuse of revising for his OWLS. They had been teasing him about his crush. They had noticed him staring at Narcissa in the Great Hall and had forced him to confess.
He feels safe in the library. He thinks that it is the only place that nobody will find him. He has found a little, dark alcove all to himself, away from everybody else, in which to read in peace. He keeps this place secret, too.
He is in his alcove again, tonight, with his Defence Against Dark Arts syllabus propped on his knees. He is crouching on the balls of his feet, a position that he feels conformable. It is almost complete blackness, but Remus doesn’t mind, he likes to read in the dark.
He has an acute sense of edginess, like he always does just before the night a full moon. He can hear everyone in the library, the scratch of the quills, the creak of the chairs and the rustle of parchment. If he strain, he can almost decipher the silent whispers of lovers muttered in hidden crevices. He imagines what it will be like to show Narcissa his hiding place, to take her here and wrap her in his scent.
He hears the sound of a couple, heading for the concealment of darkness, their soft footsteps reverberate, bouncing from bookshelf to bookshelf, making it impossible for Remus to pinpoint their location. He hears giggling. It’s her.
They are heading his way. But he can’t move, he is frozen with anticipation, with excitement. His heart pounds in his chest. And then it is too late; Remus sees them, their tangled limbs, breathing hard, and with their robes half undone. He is kissing her. She does not belong to him. Remus almost growls.
They see him, now, that he has stood up and stepped out from his hidden place.
“Look what we have here,” Lucius snarls, swaggering towards him, “one of Potter’s minions.”
Remus doesn’t know what to do, or why he left the safety of his alcove.
“He’s all alone.”
Remus looks at her; her eyes are the colour of steel. He meets her gaze, and finds emotions there, underneath the frigid surface. Remus glances between them, and he can see Lucius’ possessiveness and her, she has a craving for power, which she keeps veiled.
She notices the book at Remus’ feet.
“Come, let’s leave him to his reading.” And she leads Lucius away.
Author:esmaraldo
Rating:G, though it may be a little disturbing.
Pairing: Remus/Narcissa
Notes: I intended this to be the first instalment of many, but it never really worked out. Still, I like this snippet.