DISCLAIMER: Not Mine. We Good? Lets Go.
SUMMARY: It's slash, if only in the mild sense. You've been warned! This alludes to a intimate relationship
between two men. If you don't like that sort of thing, don't read it, but please don't flame.
Flames are used to cook eggnog(Is eggnog cooked? Guess it would have to be;P)
This might possibly be a bit of a post-fic to something else I'm working on, but who really knows.
Not me;)
HAPPY (almost) NEW YEAR!
And Then There's One (The Write Home.) by season5girl
Remus Lupin flopped down to the bed, hitting its soft comforter with little sound save for the
rustle of gentle fabric brushing against the worn out material of his own robes.
He let out a deep breath; it seemed as though he had been holding it in all day. And only
now was he truly able to let it out.
It had been so long. So long that he'd had no where in particular to call home, and yet, still
as he grew used to this wandering life, he wondered if he even knew how to stay put anymore.
Not stay still, for that he could do.
He always had been good at that, sitting-unmoving. Sirius Black-Lupin flinched at the thought of that
name, of that man-had always scolded him, jokingly of course, for never taking the initiative.
Never going over and talking to the new girl, or drugging Severus' drink with a Tickling Potion.
He had just sat still, calm and patient and kind. And in that seemingly unaffected nature, was
all that troubled Remus, and all that fascinated Sirius.
Remus Lupin now found himself smiling at these old thoughts. So old and so weary and...so what?
The older, the happier. The further back that he went, the happier he became. There was a point though,
a point in time that he didn't dare go beyond. There he stopped, in school he rested.
The more he thought of them, these old-but not *so* old memories- the more he dragged them up from the past, the less likely
they would leave him forever. As so many things and people had done already.
So many. So long. How long?
There was a quick rap on the Inn room's door, stirring Remus from his nostalgic leanings.
He stared at the door blankly for a moment. It took him several long seconds to actually get up to go and
answer it. It probably wasn't for him anyway. It was probably just someone who had the wrong room
number.
No one would be here for him. No had been in....Remus shook his head, as if trying to clear it
of such thoughts, as he trudge across the room, reaching the door just as another knock sounded.
"Yes?" Remus said, opening the door on the warm and friendly face of the Inn's owner. Mr. Habershim.
"I *am* sou'ry to disturb you." The older, stout man said. Remus smiled kindly down at him saying,
"No, no it's quite alright. How can I help you?"
"Well," The man said, blinking and holding it for longer then Remus thought nesisary, "There was a funny litt'e owl
downstairs. Had a letta fer yeh. Thought it best I brung it up."
It was now Remus' turn to blink. "A letter? Are you-quite sure it's for *me*?" Shock evident
in the younger man's stilted voice.
Mr. Habershim nodded ruefully and handed the letter to Remus, who took it with shaking hands.
"Thank you.." He muttered absently as he stared down at his own name, scrawled across the outside of the parchment.
"Sure, right." The little man wiped at his sweating face with a handkerchief, quickly, stuffing
it back inside his white and stained apron. "It's good news then? I trust...?"
The man asked a bit overly curious.
Remus' eyes sprang away from the writing, it looked very familiar. Very.
"Oh yes, I'm sure it must be." Remus quickly said, flashing the man a reassuring smile and then shutting the
door before he had a chance to question further.
"G'day then." He heard the Innkeeper mutter disappointedly through the hard wood of the door. But Remus didn't
answer. His thoughts were very much someplace else just now.
He wandered, a bit wobbly, back to the bed, grasping at the corner of a chair for support.
He sat on the edge of the oversized bed, eyes never leaving the letter he now clasped in desperate hands.
He knew who it was from. At first he hadn't-it might have been Dumbledore, if not for the state
of the parchment, and quick, untidy handwriting.
No, Remus knew this was no letter from Dumbledore. No tale to inform him of the Dark Lord's return,
at least not yet anyway.
This was from someone else; an old friend long lost to Remus. Recently found again. And lost again.
The story of his life.
Remus gulped, trying to rid himself of whatever lump had taken up residence in his throat.
Pulling the letter apart, he stared at the blank back, the only writing on it his own name, and then
underneath some vague location. Remus half wondered how the sender knew anything about where he was. Perhaps Harry had told
him.
A smile played at the edges of Lupin's mouth, fading quickly as nerves engulfed him. This letter...it could say anything,
he thought to himself, god...he could be telling me anything.
He noticed something scribbled below his name, it said in a more elegant and more recognized
style of writing: "Remember me?"
Remus furrowed his brows; he flipped the letter around, seeing a short note on the other side.
He closed his eyes, sighing again, letting his antsy want to know, and dread at hearing out with his breath.
He opened his eyes again, focusing them on the tiny words, the familiar style of writing; he read:
"Dear...-
That somehow doesn't sound right to me. It's too...informal for what we've
been through. Too...I don't know, but it doesn't fit, does it?...
I can't tell you where I am. I can't in case they find you and question you and-
I couldn't live with myself if I thought that they might blame you for James and Lily
again. Might say you had a hand in it. I can't let you be hurt, you understand that,
don't you, Moony?
Half of me is sorry that *I* don't know where *you* are. The other half is glad, not
knowing leaves me to imagine you're in some small cabin, living a peaceful life, full of...
gardening, (Remus could almost hear the voice of his old friend laughing as he wrote that line out)
but my guess is...my logical guess Remus, is that you still feel guilty.
Don't. Just-please, be happy. For me, Remus. For me if you can't be happy for anyone
else.
I wish you were here, perhaps I wouldn't be so cold. I know I'd feel safer, you've always
made me feel safe. Even back when Voldemort was at his height. All you had to do Remus, all I ever needed
was for you to give me a single look. And I would forget it all-but not you. I'll never
be able to forget you. I don't want to. I want to be lost in you again.
I still mean what I said; I love you, Remus. Still. Even after everything. Even after school, god, even after life.
Be *happy*, for me. For yourself.
If you need me, message Harry. He'll find me. I wish I could touch you, just for a
one moment more.
-Padfoot...Remember me now?
The ink began to smear under the wet, salty liquid that dropped down onto it from Remus' eyes.
He knew who it had been from of course. But the delighted shock that came from Sirius' words, still
stung in a way not entirely hurtful.
He lifted the letter to his face, smelling the rich scent of Sirius which still clung in blissful wafts to the parchment.
Remus would write back. He didn't know what he would say, but he would write back.
He swept determinedly over to the desk in his room, rummaging through the draws 'til he found what
he was looking for.
He dipped the end of the grey quill into the blackish liquid, and put it to a single piece of
parchment.
Only the one piece, so he would have to get this right the first time. So many years of silence,
to be spilled out onto one single piece of parchment. It didn't seem fair, though he knew what he wanted
to say: "I love you too, Sirius. Now more then ever."
"I'm sorry"
"Forgive me"
"I want to be with you."
"I need you-I do."
"I love you..." He whispered achingly to the silent room.
So many words, and so many things to say. The quill scratched against the blank parchment. So many things...but Remus
Lupin could only begin with one: I remember you. I could never forget.
***
Ta da! Hope you liked, if you didn't, sorry. It's not my favorite story by me, but I kinda like it..
I am a fan of most slash, provided it's tasteful. I hope this was ok! It's my first posted slash, so
be gentle?
SUMMARY: It's slash, if only in the mild sense. You've been warned! This alludes to a intimate relationship
between two men. If you don't like that sort of thing, don't read it, but please don't flame.
Flames are used to cook eggnog(Is eggnog cooked? Guess it would have to be;P)
This might possibly be a bit of a post-fic to something else I'm working on, but who really knows.
Not me;)
HAPPY (almost) NEW YEAR!
And Then There's One (The Write Home.) by season5girl
Remus Lupin flopped down to the bed, hitting its soft comforter with little sound save for the
rustle of gentle fabric brushing against the worn out material of his own robes.
He let out a deep breath; it seemed as though he had been holding it in all day. And only
now was he truly able to let it out.
It had been so long. So long that he'd had no where in particular to call home, and yet, still
as he grew used to this wandering life, he wondered if he even knew how to stay put anymore.
Not stay still, for that he could do.
He always had been good at that, sitting-unmoving. Sirius Black-Lupin flinched at the thought of that
name, of that man-had always scolded him, jokingly of course, for never taking the initiative.
Never going over and talking to the new girl, or drugging Severus' drink with a Tickling Potion.
He had just sat still, calm and patient and kind. And in that seemingly unaffected nature, was
all that troubled Remus, and all that fascinated Sirius.
Remus Lupin now found himself smiling at these old thoughts. So old and so weary and...so what?
The older, the happier. The further back that he went, the happier he became. There was a point though,
a point in time that he didn't dare go beyond. There he stopped, in school he rested.
The more he thought of them, these old-but not *so* old memories- the more he dragged them up from the past, the less likely
they would leave him forever. As so many things and people had done already.
So many. So long. How long?
There was a quick rap on the Inn room's door, stirring Remus from his nostalgic leanings.
He stared at the door blankly for a moment. It took him several long seconds to actually get up to go and
answer it. It probably wasn't for him anyway. It was probably just someone who had the wrong room
number.
No one would be here for him. No had been in....Remus shook his head, as if trying to clear it
of such thoughts, as he trudge across the room, reaching the door just as another knock sounded.
"Yes?" Remus said, opening the door on the warm and friendly face of the Inn's owner. Mr. Habershim.
"I *am* sou'ry to disturb you." The older, stout man said. Remus smiled kindly down at him saying,
"No, no it's quite alright. How can I help you?"
"Well," The man said, blinking and holding it for longer then Remus thought nesisary, "There was a funny litt'e owl
downstairs. Had a letta fer yeh. Thought it best I brung it up."
It was now Remus' turn to blink. "A letter? Are you-quite sure it's for *me*?" Shock evident
in the younger man's stilted voice.
Mr. Habershim nodded ruefully and handed the letter to Remus, who took it with shaking hands.
"Thank you.." He muttered absently as he stared down at his own name, scrawled across the outside of the parchment.
"Sure, right." The little man wiped at his sweating face with a handkerchief, quickly, stuffing
it back inside his white and stained apron. "It's good news then? I trust...?"
The man asked a bit overly curious.
Remus' eyes sprang away from the writing, it looked very familiar. Very.
"Oh yes, I'm sure it must be." Remus quickly said, flashing the man a reassuring smile and then shutting the
door before he had a chance to question further.
"G'day then." He heard the Innkeeper mutter disappointedly through the hard wood of the door. But Remus didn't
answer. His thoughts were very much someplace else just now.
He wandered, a bit wobbly, back to the bed, grasping at the corner of a chair for support.
He sat on the edge of the oversized bed, eyes never leaving the letter he now clasped in desperate hands.
He knew who it was from. At first he hadn't-it might have been Dumbledore, if not for the state
of the parchment, and quick, untidy handwriting.
No, Remus knew this was no letter from Dumbledore. No tale to inform him of the Dark Lord's return,
at least not yet anyway.
This was from someone else; an old friend long lost to Remus. Recently found again. And lost again.
The story of his life.
Remus gulped, trying to rid himself of whatever lump had taken up residence in his throat.
Pulling the letter apart, he stared at the blank back, the only writing on it his own name, and then
underneath some vague location. Remus half wondered how the sender knew anything about where he was. Perhaps Harry had told
him.
A smile played at the edges of Lupin's mouth, fading quickly as nerves engulfed him. This letter...it could say anything,
he thought to himself, god...he could be telling me anything.
He noticed something scribbled below his name, it said in a more elegant and more recognized
style of writing: "Remember me?"
Remus furrowed his brows; he flipped the letter around, seeing a short note on the other side.
He closed his eyes, sighing again, letting his antsy want to know, and dread at hearing out with his breath.
He opened his eyes again, focusing them on the tiny words, the familiar style of writing; he read:
"Dear...-
That somehow doesn't sound right to me. It's too...informal for what we've
been through. Too...I don't know, but it doesn't fit, does it?...
I can't tell you where I am. I can't in case they find you and question you and-
I couldn't live with myself if I thought that they might blame you for James and Lily
again. Might say you had a hand in it. I can't let you be hurt, you understand that,
don't you, Moony?
Half of me is sorry that *I* don't know where *you* are. The other half is glad, not
knowing leaves me to imagine you're in some small cabin, living a peaceful life, full of...
gardening, (Remus could almost hear the voice of his old friend laughing as he wrote that line out)
but my guess is...my logical guess Remus, is that you still feel guilty.
Don't. Just-please, be happy. For me, Remus. For me if you can't be happy for anyone
else.
I wish you were here, perhaps I wouldn't be so cold. I know I'd feel safer, you've always
made me feel safe. Even back when Voldemort was at his height. All you had to do Remus, all I ever needed
was for you to give me a single look. And I would forget it all-but not you. I'll never
be able to forget you. I don't want to. I want to be lost in you again.
I still mean what I said; I love you, Remus. Still. Even after everything. Even after school, god, even after life.
Be *happy*, for me. For yourself.
If you need me, message Harry. He'll find me. I wish I could touch you, just for a
one moment more.
-Padfoot...Remember me now?
The ink began to smear under the wet, salty liquid that dropped down onto it from Remus' eyes.
He knew who it had been from of course. But the delighted shock that came from Sirius' words, still
stung in a way not entirely hurtful.
He lifted the letter to his face, smelling the rich scent of Sirius which still clung in blissful wafts to the parchment.
Remus would write back. He didn't know what he would say, but he would write back.
He swept determinedly over to the desk in his room, rummaging through the draws 'til he found what
he was looking for.
He dipped the end of the grey quill into the blackish liquid, and put it to a single piece of
parchment.
Only the one piece, so he would have to get this right the first time. So many years of silence,
to be spilled out onto one single piece of parchment. It didn't seem fair, though he knew what he wanted
to say: "I love you too, Sirius. Now more then ever."
"I'm sorry"
"Forgive me"
"I want to be with you."
"I need you-I do."
"I love you..." He whispered achingly to the silent room.
So many words, and so many things to say. The quill scratched against the blank parchment. So many things...but Remus
Lupin could only begin with one: I remember you. I could never forget.
***
Ta da! Hope you liked, if you didn't, sorry. It's not my favorite story by me, but I kinda like it..
I am a fan of most slash, provided it's tasteful. I hope this was ok! It's my first posted slash, so
be gentle?