A Hidden Hope (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
scarvesnhats Day 12)
Oct. 21st, 2005 03:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rosie_ruesTitle: A Hidden Hope
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Disclaimer: They're not mine *pouts*. I'm just borrowing them.
Wordcount: 1484
Prompt: Fog. I'm finally catching up. Who would have thought I'd have less writing time now I'm unemployed than I did when I had a 50 mile commute. O_o
Notes: Pre-slash. Sixth year. Sirius isn't going to let Remus in from the fog until he gets some answers.
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The fog was thick and yellow, clinging around them. Sirius seemed to regard it as an adventure, glancing around with bright eyes as he held up his wand to light their way. Remus followed at his heels, still blinking sleep from his eyes. He had no idea what time it was and wasn’t sure whether to be more worried about getting caught or that he had woken up with his head pillowed on Sirius’ thigh. He was pretty sure Sirius hadn’t woken up until after he had jumped and thrown himself across the treehouse. He wasn’t quite certain, though.
Sirius was humming between his teeth. Remus recognised the tune.
“The Red Flag, Padfoot?”
Sirius smirked at him. “Falter not, comrade Lupin. We will find the front doors yet.”
“Where did you learn that?”
“What did you think I did in London all summer? Stare out my window and brood?”
As he had thought just that Remus decided that discretion was the better part of valour and kept quiet.
“Don’t know how you can disapprove. You recognised it. Tell.”
“Brighton.”
“Partying on the sly, Moony, old man?”
Remus shrugged. “Y’know. Students, booze on the beach, no dogs waking me up before dawn. Have to get get away sometimes.”
“Did you pull?”
Remus wondered how much Sirius knew about Brighton and its peculiar nightlife.
“Not quite,” he said and immediately regretted it.
Sirius stopped dead. “Not quite?”
“Means no,” Remus said hurriedly.
“Mooooony.”
“Frightfully chilly,” Remus said. “Must be past two. Must go. Bed. Bed good.” He began to creep sideways, crab-fashion.
Sirius grabbed his arm. “How far is not quite? Did she turn you down?”
No, Remus thought. He didn’t. He shrugged. He wanted to go inside, away from this clinging fog and memories he wasn’t proud of.
“That means something happened,” Sirius said, eyes narrowing.
“Nothing happened.”
“Yes, it did.”
“It didn’t.”
“Did.”
“Didn’t.”
“Did.”
“Didn’t.”
“Didn’t.”
“Did.”
“Hah! Tell your Uncle Padfoot all, Moony.”
“Fuck off, Sirius. It’s nothing to do with you.”
He wasn’t expected to be tackled and he went flying. The ground was wet and the breath went wheezing out of him as Sirius landed. As soon as he could he swung up, punching blindly. Sirius hit back with a whoop and they went rolling and scrabbling across the lawn. It ended, as it usually did, with Sirius sitting squarely on Remus’ legs.
Remus looked up at him. The lights from the Hospital Wing stained the fog yellow and it swirled around Sirius, making him look sallow and fey.
“Better?” he asked.
Remus was surprised to realise that he was. It annoyed him. Physical violence was not meant to be a solution.
“Good,” Sirius said. “So?”
He wasn’t going to give up. Remus considered waiting him out but his back was freezing and he was already losing circulation to his toes. So, if you can’t lie, equivocate.
“It was shit, alright.”
“Why?”
“Do I interrogate you?”
“I am as chaste as the morning,” Sirius said loftily. “And curious.”
“Can’t you be curious about someone else?”
“But you’re my Moony. Come on. Did she slobber?”
He was really tired. If he closed his eyes he might be able to go to sleep. That would stop this nightmare of a conversation.
“Moooony.”
“No.”
“Bite?”
“No.”
“Was she sick in your mouth?”
“That’s disgusting. No.”
“So why was it shit?”
“Sirius, can you not take a hint?”
“When I want to,” Sirius said, settling himself more comfortably. Remus, whose treacherous body was beginning to register that it was being sat on by Sirius Black, pressed back into the wet grass and tried to summon hypothermia by will alone.
“I’m not going to this time.”
“Why not?” Remus asked, eyes shut.
“Because you’re upset about it and you’re my mate and nobody else but me has the right to fuck with your head. So I want to know. I want to know what she did and I want to know who she is so I can go and give her fucking hives because you’ve been weird on me all term and if this is why then- then I don’t like it.”
Oh, fuck. He did not have a lump in his throat and Sirius Black was not an unpredictable, brilliant wanker and he was probably obliged to say something before it was too late. “Your loyalties scare me, Pads. Only I’m allowed to fuck with my head.”
“You are not,” Sirius said. “I can give you hives too. I’m really good at it. Just ask Snivellus.”
“Are you trying to get me killed?”
“No. It would be funny – don’t change the subject.”
Damn. He considered his words carefully. “I was at a party. More of less gatecrashed. I’d had too much to drink but not quite enough. We were outside and the wind suddenly came off the sea and I sort of panicked and-”
“Take a breath,” Sirius said, patting his hip comfortingly. Remus really wished he wouldn’t. “On the beach? Did you get sand in your bits?”
“There isn’t sand, you twat. Pebble beach. Anyway, we were under the pier.”
“Sounds good.”
“It’s damp and concretey and stinks of piss and I suddenly got sober. And there were mermaids.”
“Naked mermaids?”
“They shouldn’t have been there. They kept commenting.”
“Could put a bloke off,” Sirius said soberly but he was grinning.
“You’re laughing at me.”
“Only because it’s funny.”
“Sirius!”
“Sorry. Alright. You’re under Brighton pier, pissed off your head, with mermaids ogling-”
“Singing.”
“With mermaids singing at you. And you look at them and have a Moony-freak and sober up because they’re looking at your bits and-”
“Actually,” Remus said, halfway between amused and annoyed, “I was thinking, shit, there’s mermaids and some Muggle whose name I don’t know has his hand down my trousers and all I can think is what if he turns round and – oh, fuck.”
Sirius was gawping at him. If he hadn’t just inadvertantly outed himself Remus might have appreciated the sheer bewilderment on his face.
“Oh, fuck,” Remus said again and made a lunge for freedom.
Sirius dropped his full weight onto his legs, trapping him. Then, with a gurgle, he threw back his head and laughed.
Remus had had enough. With a force he hadn’t known he possessed he shoved himself up and punched Sirius in the shoulder. Sirius collapsed backwards and Remus dragged his legs free and tried to scrabble to his feet. Sirius took him down with a rather giggly whoop and he kicked back, gasping.
It was not very long before he found himself flat on his back again, this time with Sirius sitting on his chest. Remus, who really wasn’t thinking about how that placed Sirius’ crotch directly in his line of vision, tipped his head back and stared at the fog.
Sirius’ face appeared above his, his hair falling down to brush Remus’ cheek. “Mooooooony.”
Remus shut his eyes.
“You daft twat,” Sirius said happily. “Is that what’s been bothering you?”
He wasn’t going to say anything. And not just because Sirius was squashing his lungs.
“You don’t really think we’d care? Get as debauched as you like, mate. We won’t take any points. Good for you, getting debauched is. Puts things in perspective. We could go and nick some firewhiskey now if you like and go and debauch Peter. Actually, on second thoughts-”
“Shut up,” Remus croaked.
“Yeah, he’s about as straight as straight gets, isn’t he?”
Remus had a long mental list of things he never, ever, ever, ever wanted to discuss with Sirius Black. Peter Pettigrew’s sexuality was now on it.
“So what happened next?”
It wasn’t that he wanted to lose his friends but it would have been nice to get a bit more of a reaction. Scowling, he muttered, “Said would miss my bus and ran.”
“How early in the evening was this?”
“Not that early. The last bus to Bognor is about half-eight. This was late. I flooed home.”
“Ah.” Sirius cocked his head, frowning. “Does sound a bit shit, mate. Don’t think debauchery is your thing, really.” He shoved himself up and Remus squeaked as his lungs protested. Sirius offered him a hand and he let himself be pulled to his feet.
“Sirius-”
“You’re soaked and I’m starving. Kitchen raid?”
“Okay,” Remus said.
“Knew that prefecting hadn’t corrupted you completely.”
“I forgot.”
“You should do that more often, mate. Would make life much easier.”
“For you?” Remus snapped, still disconcerted.
“No,” Sirius said, still too serious. “For you.”
“Sirius.”
Sirius sighed and hunched his shoulders before turning round. “It doesn’t bother me. I mean, I’ve seen you watching Quidditch practice and you look at everyone. I just didn’t know whether you knew yet. Just sorry it was shit. Now, c’mon. It’s bloody freezing out here.”
Remus followed him, not sure how he was meant to be reacting. He would never understand Sirius Black.
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Disclaimer: They're not mine *pouts*. I'm just borrowing them.
Wordcount: 1484
Prompt: Fog. I'm finally catching up. Who would have thought I'd have less writing time now I'm unemployed than I did when I had a 50 mile commute. O_o
Notes: Pre-slash. Sixth year. Sirius isn't going to let Remus in from the fog until he gets some answers.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
The fog was thick and yellow, clinging around them. Sirius seemed to regard it as an adventure, glancing around with bright eyes as he held up his wand to light their way. Remus followed at his heels, still blinking sleep from his eyes. He had no idea what time it was and wasn’t sure whether to be more worried about getting caught or that he had woken up with his head pillowed on Sirius’ thigh. He was pretty sure Sirius hadn’t woken up until after he had jumped and thrown himself across the treehouse. He wasn’t quite certain, though.
Sirius was humming between his teeth. Remus recognised the tune.
“The Red Flag, Padfoot?”
Sirius smirked at him. “Falter not, comrade Lupin. We will find the front doors yet.”
“Where did you learn that?”
“What did you think I did in London all summer? Stare out my window and brood?”
As he had thought just that Remus decided that discretion was the better part of valour and kept quiet.
“Don’t know how you can disapprove. You recognised it. Tell.”
“Brighton.”
“Partying on the sly, Moony, old man?”
Remus shrugged. “Y’know. Students, booze on the beach, no dogs waking me up before dawn. Have to get get away sometimes.”
“Did you pull?”
Remus wondered how much Sirius knew about Brighton and its peculiar nightlife.
“Not quite,” he said and immediately regretted it.
Sirius stopped dead. “Not quite?”
“Means no,” Remus said hurriedly.
“Mooooony.”
“Frightfully chilly,” Remus said. “Must be past two. Must go. Bed. Bed good.” He began to creep sideways, crab-fashion.
Sirius grabbed his arm. “How far is not quite? Did she turn you down?”
No, Remus thought. He didn’t. He shrugged. He wanted to go inside, away from this clinging fog and memories he wasn’t proud of.
“That means something happened,” Sirius said, eyes narrowing.
“Nothing happened.”
“Yes, it did.”
“It didn’t.”
“Did.”
“Didn’t.”
“Did.”
“Didn’t.”
“Didn’t.”
“Did.”
“Hah! Tell your Uncle Padfoot all, Moony.”
“Fuck off, Sirius. It’s nothing to do with you.”
He wasn’t expected to be tackled and he went flying. The ground was wet and the breath went wheezing out of him as Sirius landed. As soon as he could he swung up, punching blindly. Sirius hit back with a whoop and they went rolling and scrabbling across the lawn. It ended, as it usually did, with Sirius sitting squarely on Remus’ legs.
Remus looked up at him. The lights from the Hospital Wing stained the fog yellow and it swirled around Sirius, making him look sallow and fey.
“Better?” he asked.
Remus was surprised to realise that he was. It annoyed him. Physical violence was not meant to be a solution.
“Good,” Sirius said. “So?”
He wasn’t going to give up. Remus considered waiting him out but his back was freezing and he was already losing circulation to his toes. So, if you can’t lie, equivocate.
“It was shit, alright.”
“Why?”
“Do I interrogate you?”
“I am as chaste as the morning,” Sirius said loftily. “And curious.”
“Can’t you be curious about someone else?”
“But you’re my Moony. Come on. Did she slobber?”
He was really tired. If he closed his eyes he might be able to go to sleep. That would stop this nightmare of a conversation.
“Moooony.”
“No.”
“Bite?”
“No.”
“Was she sick in your mouth?”
“That’s disgusting. No.”
“So why was it shit?”
“Sirius, can you not take a hint?”
“When I want to,” Sirius said, settling himself more comfortably. Remus, whose treacherous body was beginning to register that it was being sat on by Sirius Black, pressed back into the wet grass and tried to summon hypothermia by will alone.
“I’m not going to this time.”
“Why not?” Remus asked, eyes shut.
“Because you’re upset about it and you’re my mate and nobody else but me has the right to fuck with your head. So I want to know. I want to know what she did and I want to know who she is so I can go and give her fucking hives because you’ve been weird on me all term and if this is why then- then I don’t like it.”
Oh, fuck. He did not have a lump in his throat and Sirius Black was not an unpredictable, brilliant wanker and he was probably obliged to say something before it was too late. “Your loyalties scare me, Pads. Only I’m allowed to fuck with my head.”
“You are not,” Sirius said. “I can give you hives too. I’m really good at it. Just ask Snivellus.”
“Are you trying to get me killed?”
“No. It would be funny – don’t change the subject.”
Damn. He considered his words carefully. “I was at a party. More of less gatecrashed. I’d had too much to drink but not quite enough. We were outside and the wind suddenly came off the sea and I sort of panicked and-”
“Take a breath,” Sirius said, patting his hip comfortingly. Remus really wished he wouldn’t. “On the beach? Did you get sand in your bits?”
“There isn’t sand, you twat. Pebble beach. Anyway, we were under the pier.”
“Sounds good.”
“It’s damp and concretey and stinks of piss and I suddenly got sober. And there were mermaids.”
“Naked mermaids?”
“They shouldn’t have been there. They kept commenting.”
“Could put a bloke off,” Sirius said soberly but he was grinning.
“You’re laughing at me.”
“Only because it’s funny.”
“Sirius!”
“Sorry. Alright. You’re under Brighton pier, pissed off your head, with mermaids ogling-”
“Singing.”
“With mermaids singing at you. And you look at them and have a Moony-freak and sober up because they’re looking at your bits and-”
“Actually,” Remus said, halfway between amused and annoyed, “I was thinking, shit, there’s mermaids and some Muggle whose name I don’t know has his hand down my trousers and all I can think is what if he turns round and – oh, fuck.”
Sirius was gawping at him. If he hadn’t just inadvertantly outed himself Remus might have appreciated the sheer bewilderment on his face.
“Oh, fuck,” Remus said again and made a lunge for freedom.
Sirius dropped his full weight onto his legs, trapping him. Then, with a gurgle, he threw back his head and laughed.
Remus had had enough. With a force he hadn’t known he possessed he shoved himself up and punched Sirius in the shoulder. Sirius collapsed backwards and Remus dragged his legs free and tried to scrabble to his feet. Sirius took him down with a rather giggly whoop and he kicked back, gasping.
It was not very long before he found himself flat on his back again, this time with Sirius sitting on his chest. Remus, who really wasn’t thinking about how that placed Sirius’ crotch directly in his line of vision, tipped his head back and stared at the fog.
Sirius’ face appeared above his, his hair falling down to brush Remus’ cheek. “Mooooooony.”
Remus shut his eyes.
“You daft twat,” Sirius said happily. “Is that what’s been bothering you?”
He wasn’t going to say anything. And not just because Sirius was squashing his lungs.
“You don’t really think we’d care? Get as debauched as you like, mate. We won’t take any points. Good for you, getting debauched is. Puts things in perspective. We could go and nick some firewhiskey now if you like and go and debauch Peter. Actually, on second thoughts-”
“Shut up,” Remus croaked.
“Yeah, he’s about as straight as straight gets, isn’t he?”
Remus had a long mental list of things he never, ever, ever, ever wanted to discuss with Sirius Black. Peter Pettigrew’s sexuality was now on it.
“So what happened next?”
It wasn’t that he wanted to lose his friends but it would have been nice to get a bit more of a reaction. Scowling, he muttered, “Said would miss my bus and ran.”
“How early in the evening was this?”
“Not that early. The last bus to Bognor is about half-eight. This was late. I flooed home.”
“Ah.” Sirius cocked his head, frowning. “Does sound a bit shit, mate. Don’t think debauchery is your thing, really.” He shoved himself up and Remus squeaked as his lungs protested. Sirius offered him a hand and he let himself be pulled to his feet.
“Sirius-”
“You’re soaked and I’m starving. Kitchen raid?”
“Okay,” Remus said.
“Knew that prefecting hadn’t corrupted you completely.”
“I forgot.”
“You should do that more often, mate. Would make life much easier.”
“For you?” Remus snapped, still disconcerted.
“No,” Sirius said, still too serious. “For you.”
“Sirius.”
Sirius sighed and hunched his shoulders before turning round. “It doesn’t bother me. I mean, I’ve seen you watching Quidditch practice and you look at everyone. I just didn’t know whether you knew yet. Just sorry it was shit. Now, c’mon. It’s bloody freezing out here.”
Remus followed him, not sure how he was meant to be reacting. He would never understand Sirius Black.
