Okay, new story- This means that reviews are so exceedingly important, no one can even comprehend it!
Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise :)
It's almost, sort of based around Wicked! Not really, but I got the idea from listening to one of the songs 'No Good Deed'.
Anyway, here is Chapter One!
It had been a long and hard day of cleaning for the inhabitants of 12 Grimmauld Place. Finally, as the day slowly changed to night, they were allowed to stop and rest.
"Bloody hell!" exclaimed a lanky red headed boy. There were numerous bruises covering his skin from some of the dark artefacts hidden in the old house, and the boy was just beginning to notice.
"Awh!" cried another red head in mock sympathy, "Ickly Ronniekins has got a boo-boo!"
"Do you want me to kiss it better for you?" asked a boy identical to the last.
The first twin shook his head rapidly, "No, no, no George! That's Hermione's job!"
"You're right Fred!" conceded the second twin.
A slim girl with bushy brown hair turned around sharply at hearing her name, and her eyes narrowed viciously as she saw the person who had used it. Hermione stalked over to the group of red heads and towered over their sitting forms.
"What was that?" The brunette asked dangerously.
Fred and George had the decency to look guilty and simultaneously, as only twins can do, gulped nervously and moved to stand up. Even then Hermione frightened them, even though she was at least a head shorter than both of them.
"I said," Hermione began once more, clearly unfazed by the twins' height, "What was that?"
Fred shook his head from side to side and dropped to his knees. George followed not seconds later.
"We are so sorry, your Hermioneship. Please do not eat us!"
Hermione sighed in annoyance and walked away from the spectacle the twins were making of themselves.
A few moments later, two tall men walked into the room. Well, one walked and the other seemed to strut as if he owned the place. Which he did, coincidentally.
"Hola, my little work monkeys," exclaimed the man who strutted. His long black hair had a natural curl at the nape of his neck and his stormy grey eyes held a mischievous twinkle, though a sense of pain and loss seemed to almost hide behind it. "How goes the cleaning?"
"Great," replied Harry, whose emerald eyes clearly portrayed his sarcasm, "It's been a right blast!"
Sirius Black laughed loudly and clapped his godson on the back. "That's the spirit!"
"Do you have to be so loud?" asked the second man who had entered the room. His sandy blonde hair was thinning and greying slightly, and what should have been a youthful face was covered in big scars. It was nearing the full moon, and so these scars were even more noticeable. Remus' posture was slumped, as though he had a heavy weight to bear.
"Sorry Moony, feeling a banged up, are we?" Sirius asked.
Remus merely nodded in response and slumped into the nearest empty chair.
"So…" the escapee prisoner began after a few moments of awkward silence, "What shall we do now?"
Fred and George sat up straight and began to jump in their seats.
"Marauder story!" they both exclaimed.
And so the next hour was spent with Sirius relaying various tales of his adventures with his group of friends known as the Marauders.
One thing seemed to escape everyone's notice, though not that of the bushy haired bookworm. Remus had not contributed to any of the stories and, quite frankly, seemed to be deeply sad about something. Or someone.
Eventually, Remus had had enough and slipped out of the drawing room quietly, trying not to gain any unwanted attention.
"Sirius," Hermione interrupted Sirius during one of his tales, "Is something the matter with Professor Lupin?"
Sirius' grin slowly slipped off of his pale face, and he spun around to see that Remus had cleared the room, just as Sirius had known he would. He sighed deeply and faced a curious Hermione once more.
"If I tell you this, you have to promise me you will not say anything to Remus. Promise me."
Each teenager nodded their head in a silent promise and subconsciously leaned forward to hear what Sirius had to say.
"A long time ago, Remus had a girlfriend." Everyone let go of the breaths they had been holding, and let their shoulders sag in disappointment.
"Well," Ginny said with a sarcastic eye-roll, "That just clears everything up!"
Sirius silently glared at her, and then resumed in his story-telling. "A secret girlfriend."
"What do you mean a 'secret girlfriend'? Secret to whom?" Hermione questioned.
"Us," Sirius replied and then clarified, "His friends."
"But why?" Harry asked.
Sirius chuckled drily and without humour, "He knew we wouldn't approve or accept it. And would quite possibly make their relationship a little difficult." Sirius looked up at their confused faces and went on to say, "She was a Slytherin."
"So many questions," began Fred, "but number one has to be; so?"
Sirius, growing tired with the interruptions, moved from his spot and went to the old, wooden desk in the corner of the room. The eyes of the teenagers followed him and watched as he rooted around the desk for something.
Eventually, he returned with an old Daily Prophet article. He placed it gently on the table in the centre and everyone craned their necks to see what the article was about.
The headline read:
Wicked Witch Dead At Last
What was this about? They all wondered this mentally and felt confused as to what this had to do with anything. And then it clicked. Remus had been in love with this 'Wicked Witch'.
"She wasn't evil," Sirius whispered, more to himself than to anyone else.
"How did she die?" Hermione asked gently, a concerned voice sending comfort to Sirius.
"I don't know. No one does. But the one thing I do know, it killed him."
"Well," Ginny began cautiously, "What was her name?"
Sirius sighed sadly and sank into the small sofa chair he was sitting on. "Feairah. Feairah Upland."
Love it? Hate it? Let me know. If you like it, you know what to do :)