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Feb. 5th, 2006 04:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rosie_ruesTitle: And if King Edward be as true and just
Rating: PG for language
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I'm just borrowing them because I like them.
Wordcount: 1453
Prompt: Antisthenes says that in a certain faraway land the cold is so intense that words freeze as soon as they are uttered, and after some time then thaw and become audible, so that words spoken in winter go unheard until the next summer.
~ Plutarch, Moralia
Notes: A lead, and a kiss. Still going. Title from Richard III.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26
Sirius hated reports. Dry, dreary, long-winded scratchings about things so horrible they should never touch paper. He’d been reading them all morning, and he’d started to forget what words like blood and burn and laceration actually meant. They were turning grey in his mind, fitting themselves into boxes to be ticked off.
There was nothing but silence to trap their real meaning in. Ted had made them put up a silencing charm while they worked, blocking them in and the rest of the office out. Sirius hated silence. It made him think of snow and bitterness and crouching on the landing with Reggie, straining to hear in the pitch of a distant voice whether it was safe to go downstairs.
Remus hadn’t spoken a word to him all day.
He was sitting at the other desk, frowning over a pile of reports, making occasional, conscientious notes.
Sirius stared at him and thought, I’m sorry. I love you. I didn’t mean to fuck up.
But Remus wouldn’t hear him. Why did he have to say these things out loud. Why couldn’t Remus just read his mind?
“Brooding won’t get those reports analysed.”
Sirius sighed and turned back to reading the accounts from Hester Entwhistle’s neighbours. They were beautifully scripted, bland and careful. Maybe he should go and annoy Prongs – find out whether the Obliviators archived their handwritten notes.
“Alice wants to speak to you,” Remus said, without looking up.
Sirius glanced up. Alice Longbottom was hanging over the top of the partition, miming banging on the spell. Sirius scrambled onto his desk and stuck his head out of the top of the spell.
The noise of the office swept over him and he shook his head, Padfoot-style.
“Under silencio, already?” Alice asked. “Somebody’s going up in the world.”
“Hit my head on the ceiling soon. Want something?”
“Talk to you, gorgeous. One moment.”
He felt her silencing spell sigh around him, though she did not speak. Intrigued, he raised an eyebrow.
“Right,” Alice said and then blew out. “Damn. See, what I reckon is that the two of you are working on something to do with the Order, and with Radcliffe.”
Sirius felt his eyes narrow.
“Don’t have to tell me, anything, gorgeous. Either Ted’s gone as paranoid as Moody or you’re working on something he doesn’t trust us with. That means the Order.”
“And why wouldn’t he trust you on that?” Sirius asked softly.
Alice smiled and patted his cheek. “Think through both sides, Black, before you make any decisions. Ted – I’ve known him as long as I’ve known Frank, longer maybe, but he’s got odd ideas still. He still thinks of politics like a Muggle. He thinks it’s about laws and justice and democracy. You can’t apply laws to magic. It’s too unruly.”
“Andromeda agrees with him.”
Alice snorted. “Andie’s Pureblood to the bone, however much they’ve disowned her. You lot might make your own rules but once you’ve made them you stick to them. Honour, courtesy, blood. Just another set of rules. Andie chose the law.”
Sirius tossed his head. “I’ve never kept a rule in my life.”
“Yeah?” Alice said amicably. “So why are you making Lupin so miserable?”
It hadn’t been a rule. It was a principle - Don’t hurt Remus. He scowled at her. “I’m not going to. Not any more.”
“Told him that?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Can’t get the words right.”
Alice thwapped his cheek. “Just get down there and grovel, gorgeous. And remember what I said.”
“Yes, Professor. Whatever you say.” He was about to slither down when he thought better of it. He could trade a risk for a risk. “So, what did you think of Radcliffe then?”
“Alan?” She shrugged, resting her elbows on the partition. “Nice man. Didn’t talk much – not to us anyway. He and Jack tended to stick together.”
“Jack Yarwood?”
She nodded. “They were cousins. Even at school they were inseperable. Looked alike, too. No problem telling them apart once you got close, though. Alan was a moody bastard, and Jack was as cheerful as cheerful gets. Lovely bloke.”
“And Alan wasn’t?”
She frowned. “Once you knew him, yeah. Made you work for it, though. Kept himself to himself a bit.”
“Hmm,” Sirius said, letting things settle. “Cheers, Alice.”
He slid down through the spells and off his desk. “Did you hear that?”
“Not through silencio,” Remus said, not looking up. He was still staring at the same report, frowning slightly.
Sirius leant over him, thumbing through the box file. “What’s wrong?”
“Thinking. Could you move your leg? I can’t read through your thigh.”
Sirius plucked out the folders he was looking for and sat on Remus’ lap. “Better?”
“You’re still stopping me from working,” Remus said primly, but his eyes were crinkled in that way which meant amusement. “What do you want?”
You, Sirius thought and didn’t feel guilty about it. Savouring the mood, he pulled the photographs of Radcliffe and Yarwood off their files and presented them to Remus. “Which did we see?”
“Bugger,” Remus muttered. “I couldn’t say. Who’s the cheerful one?”
“Jack Yarwood.”
Remus smiled at him across the sheaf of papers. “No wonder you look so pleased with yourself. Shall we go through the Yarwood reports again?”
I’ve been sitting on your lap for the last few minutes and you think that’s what I’m looking pleased about. Daft bugger. “Reckon so. Opens it up a bit, doesn’t it?”
“Worth bringing Prongs in? He dealt with the Muggle survivors.”
“Moony, you are a genius. Shame we can’t get Wormtail involved.”
“Mmm,” Remus said, frowning again. “Isn’t the scene still sealed off? We should be able to get in there for another look.”
“Talk to Ted,” Sirius said.
“I can’t,” Remus said. “Some prat is trying to cut off circulation to my thighs.”
“Outrageous.”
“Utterly.” He was smiling again, and Sirius gave in to temptation. He leant forward and kissed the corner of that smile, very lightly.
Remus didn’t scold, so he leant it again and kissed him properly, nudging his lips apart. He could taste ink on his lips, and the garlicky aftertaste of the peculiar stir fry the canteen had served at lunch time.
It was a shock when his tongue brushed over Sirius’ lips, and Sirius shivered and brought his hands up to cup his face, holding him there as he hitched his way forward along Remus’ lap.
He felt the papers flop against his chest as Remus dropped them and, a moment later, Remus’ fingers twining through his hair. Sirius opened his eyes to see Remus had closed his, his lashes lying against his cheek. Sirius could see the creases on his eyelids, and the fragile blood vessels beneath the skin. How could he look so frail and be so strong?
Then he closed his eyes, pushing away worry, and gave himself up to the feel of the kiss.
“Ahem.”
Remus jerked backwards, his face flooding with colour. Sirius turned his head to grin at Ted, who was leaning against the doorway.
“Made any progress?” he asked.
Sirius smirked, and then jumped as Remus’ dug his fingernails into his thigh.
“Jack Yarwood,” Remus said. “We’re not sure which we saw, now we’ve looked at both files. Did we ever get the bodies identified?”
Ted whistled. “Of course. You never met them. I can’t believe that Jack- hell, I can’t believe it of either of them. And no, they were burnt beyond identification.”
“So Yarwood could have survived?” Sirius asked.
In the same moment, Remus said, “He was Muggleborn, Yarwood, wasn’t he? Wouldn’t there be dental records?”
“Yes, he was,” Ted said. “And, yes, there would be. Sirius, get on to St Mungos and see if they’ve got anyone who can interpret them. Remus, talk to Muggle Relations. See if you can get a copy of the records.”
“Anything else?” Sirius asked.
“Not unless you want to give me a loan. You just lost me another thirty galleons.”
“Haven’t you learnt not to bet against Meda yet?” Sirius stood up reluctantly. “St Mungos, it is, then. Oh, yeah, I was going to ask – can I drag James Potter in on this? He was Obliviator on the Yarwood case.”
Ted thought about for a moment, then shrugged. “Fine. If he can be discreet.”
“He can,” Remus said quietly, standing up. “I’m going down to Level Three to talk to Muggle Relations. Shall I send James up?”
Ted nodded at him. “Do. And could you both make a little more effort towards doing some work while you’re here, please.”
“Sorry,” Remus muttered, slithering out.
“My fault,” Sirius said. “It always is.”
“I have no doubt of it,” Ted said wryly. “Now do some work, Sirius.”
Rating: PG for language
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I'm just borrowing them because I like them.
Wordcount: 1453
Prompt: Antisthenes says that in a certain faraway land the cold is so intense that words freeze as soon as they are uttered, and after some time then thaw and become audible, so that words spoken in winter go unheard until the next summer.
~ Plutarch, Moralia
Notes: A lead, and a kiss. Still going. Title from Richard III.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26
Sirius hated reports. Dry, dreary, long-winded scratchings about things so horrible they should never touch paper. He’d been reading them all morning, and he’d started to forget what words like blood and burn and laceration actually meant. They were turning grey in his mind, fitting themselves into boxes to be ticked off.
There was nothing but silence to trap their real meaning in. Ted had made them put up a silencing charm while they worked, blocking them in and the rest of the office out. Sirius hated silence. It made him think of snow and bitterness and crouching on the landing with Reggie, straining to hear in the pitch of a distant voice whether it was safe to go downstairs.
Remus hadn’t spoken a word to him all day.
He was sitting at the other desk, frowning over a pile of reports, making occasional, conscientious notes.
Sirius stared at him and thought, I’m sorry. I love you. I didn’t mean to fuck up.
But Remus wouldn’t hear him. Why did he have to say these things out loud. Why couldn’t Remus just read his mind?
“Brooding won’t get those reports analysed.”
Sirius sighed and turned back to reading the accounts from Hester Entwhistle’s neighbours. They were beautifully scripted, bland and careful. Maybe he should go and annoy Prongs – find out whether the Obliviators archived their handwritten notes.
“Alice wants to speak to you,” Remus said, without looking up.
Sirius glanced up. Alice Longbottom was hanging over the top of the partition, miming banging on the spell. Sirius scrambled onto his desk and stuck his head out of the top of the spell.
The noise of the office swept over him and he shook his head, Padfoot-style.
“Under silencio, already?” Alice asked. “Somebody’s going up in the world.”
“Hit my head on the ceiling soon. Want something?”
“Talk to you, gorgeous. One moment.”
He felt her silencing spell sigh around him, though she did not speak. Intrigued, he raised an eyebrow.
“Right,” Alice said and then blew out. “Damn. See, what I reckon is that the two of you are working on something to do with the Order, and with Radcliffe.”
Sirius felt his eyes narrow.
“Don’t have to tell me, anything, gorgeous. Either Ted’s gone as paranoid as Moody or you’re working on something he doesn’t trust us with. That means the Order.”
“And why wouldn’t he trust you on that?” Sirius asked softly.
Alice smiled and patted his cheek. “Think through both sides, Black, before you make any decisions. Ted – I’ve known him as long as I’ve known Frank, longer maybe, but he’s got odd ideas still. He still thinks of politics like a Muggle. He thinks it’s about laws and justice and democracy. You can’t apply laws to magic. It’s too unruly.”
“Andromeda agrees with him.”
Alice snorted. “Andie’s Pureblood to the bone, however much they’ve disowned her. You lot might make your own rules but once you’ve made them you stick to them. Honour, courtesy, blood. Just another set of rules. Andie chose the law.”
Sirius tossed his head. “I’ve never kept a rule in my life.”
“Yeah?” Alice said amicably. “So why are you making Lupin so miserable?”
It hadn’t been a rule. It was a principle - Don’t hurt Remus. He scowled at her. “I’m not going to. Not any more.”
“Told him that?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Can’t get the words right.”
Alice thwapped his cheek. “Just get down there and grovel, gorgeous. And remember what I said.”
“Yes, Professor. Whatever you say.” He was about to slither down when he thought better of it. He could trade a risk for a risk. “So, what did you think of Radcliffe then?”
“Alan?” She shrugged, resting her elbows on the partition. “Nice man. Didn’t talk much – not to us anyway. He and Jack tended to stick together.”
“Jack Yarwood?”
She nodded. “They were cousins. Even at school they were inseperable. Looked alike, too. No problem telling them apart once you got close, though. Alan was a moody bastard, and Jack was as cheerful as cheerful gets. Lovely bloke.”
“And Alan wasn’t?”
She frowned. “Once you knew him, yeah. Made you work for it, though. Kept himself to himself a bit.”
“Hmm,” Sirius said, letting things settle. “Cheers, Alice.”
He slid down through the spells and off his desk. “Did you hear that?”
“Not through silencio,” Remus said, not looking up. He was still staring at the same report, frowning slightly.
Sirius leant over him, thumbing through the box file. “What’s wrong?”
“Thinking. Could you move your leg? I can’t read through your thigh.”
Sirius plucked out the folders he was looking for and sat on Remus’ lap. “Better?”
“You’re still stopping me from working,” Remus said primly, but his eyes were crinkled in that way which meant amusement. “What do you want?”
You, Sirius thought and didn’t feel guilty about it. Savouring the mood, he pulled the photographs of Radcliffe and Yarwood off their files and presented them to Remus. “Which did we see?”
“Bugger,” Remus muttered. “I couldn’t say. Who’s the cheerful one?”
“Jack Yarwood.”
Remus smiled at him across the sheaf of papers. “No wonder you look so pleased with yourself. Shall we go through the Yarwood reports again?”
I’ve been sitting on your lap for the last few minutes and you think that’s what I’m looking pleased about. Daft bugger. “Reckon so. Opens it up a bit, doesn’t it?”
“Worth bringing Prongs in? He dealt with the Muggle survivors.”
“Moony, you are a genius. Shame we can’t get Wormtail involved.”
“Mmm,” Remus said, frowning again. “Isn’t the scene still sealed off? We should be able to get in there for another look.”
“Talk to Ted,” Sirius said.
“I can’t,” Remus said. “Some prat is trying to cut off circulation to my thighs.”
“Outrageous.”
“Utterly.” He was smiling again, and Sirius gave in to temptation. He leant forward and kissed the corner of that smile, very lightly.
Remus didn’t scold, so he leant it again and kissed him properly, nudging his lips apart. He could taste ink on his lips, and the garlicky aftertaste of the peculiar stir fry the canteen had served at lunch time.
It was a shock when his tongue brushed over Sirius’ lips, and Sirius shivered and brought his hands up to cup his face, holding him there as he hitched his way forward along Remus’ lap.
He felt the papers flop against his chest as Remus dropped them and, a moment later, Remus’ fingers twining through his hair. Sirius opened his eyes to see Remus had closed his, his lashes lying against his cheek. Sirius could see the creases on his eyelids, and the fragile blood vessels beneath the skin. How could he look so frail and be so strong?
Then he closed his eyes, pushing away worry, and gave himself up to the feel of the kiss.
“Ahem.”
Remus jerked backwards, his face flooding with colour. Sirius turned his head to grin at Ted, who was leaning against the doorway.
“Made any progress?” he asked.
Sirius smirked, and then jumped as Remus’ dug his fingernails into his thigh.
“Jack Yarwood,” Remus said. “We’re not sure which we saw, now we’ve looked at both files. Did we ever get the bodies identified?”
Ted whistled. “Of course. You never met them. I can’t believe that Jack- hell, I can’t believe it of either of them. And no, they were burnt beyond identification.”
“So Yarwood could have survived?” Sirius asked.
In the same moment, Remus said, “He was Muggleborn, Yarwood, wasn’t he? Wouldn’t there be dental records?”
“Yes, he was,” Ted said. “And, yes, there would be. Sirius, get on to St Mungos and see if they’ve got anyone who can interpret them. Remus, talk to Muggle Relations. See if you can get a copy of the records.”
“Anything else?” Sirius asked.
“Not unless you want to give me a loan. You just lost me another thirty galleons.”
“Haven’t you learnt not to bet against Meda yet?” Sirius stood up reluctantly. “St Mungos, it is, then. Oh, yeah, I was going to ask – can I drag James Potter in on this? He was Obliviator on the Yarwood case.”
Ted thought about for a moment, then shrugged. “Fine. If he can be discreet.”
“He can,” Remus said quietly, standing up. “I’m going down to Level Three to talk to Muggle Relations. Shall I send James up?”
Ted nodded at him. “Do. And could you both make a little more effort towards doing some work while you’re here, please.”
“Sorry,” Remus muttered, slithering out.
“My fault,” Sirius said. “It always is.”
“I have no doubt of it,” Ted said wryly. “Now do some work, Sirius.”
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Date: 2006-02-05 08:33 pm (UTC)Thanks for the comment :)