Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, and it's characters, obviously.
ok, so here is my story. Mostly canon. It'll possibly get AU later on, but it might not. The royal guard system and all might be a bit off, considering I don't live in England.
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It was a Saturday afternoon, and the sun was bright. In fact, a bit too bright as it continually burned Clive Elmer Culverton's eyes. He, like all royal guards, could not rub his eyes, nor walk off to find a bottle of eye drops on shift. He had to stand still and be quite. Sure it got annoying at times, but Clive did love his job. It was only one of the biggest honors to guard Buckingham Palace. And besides, he had nothing better to do.
Clive's shift was about half way over when a tall, thin, teenage boy walked over and sat next to him. The kid sighed and let his long, black, silky hair fall in his face. After what seemed like a very long, annoyed silence, the boy spoke. "Hey." Another silence filled shortly before he spoke again, as if he had expected Clive to reply. "Well, I'm lost. I've been trying to find Remus Lupin's house, if you have any idea where it would be. Though you probably don't, considering you're only a muggle."
Clive found it slightly funny the boy was asking him for directions. Although, he did wish the kid would clarify his last statement. But instead of explaining himself, the boy just sat there, expectantly looking up at Clive. It was very obvious now that the boy wanted an answer. But Clive couldn't give him one. Soon enough the kid looked pissed, and stared at Clive with a face that showed him he thought he was a major git. "Well aren't you going to answer?" Again silence reigned for a short time. "I said, 'Why aren't you answering me!'"
"Technically you said, 'Aren't you going to answer?' And an answer to that would be no, he can't talk," said Mrs. Halverson, the queen's top maid, seemingly startling Sirius off the ground. Laughing a bit, she continued, "Oh, I'm sorry dear. Didn' mean to frighten you. I'd love to stay and chat more, but I ought to go back in now, before anyone notices I'm gone. I like to get a bit of fresh air once in a while," she said off to the boy. "Good day Culverton."
Once Mrs. Halverson had left the boy sat down again and resumed their one-way conversation. "Ohhh…Wow. I'm really sorry. I had no idea you couldn't talk. If you don't mind me asking, how'd it happen? I mean, were you born with some weird disease, or did you just like, stop talking one day? Oh…Wait, sorry. I forgot, you can't answer that." Clive had to repress the urge to laugh at the boy's lack of knowledge. Instead, he waited to hear what else the boy had to say.
"So your name is Culverton? Mine's Sirius Black. I just ran away, and I can't find my friend. I didn't want to tell you the running way part, but I figure you can't tell anyone anyways," The boy said, sounding depressed. And although Clive didn't like hearing that this kid, Sirius, ran away, he figured it was best not to interfere. It wasn't his concern. Looking down, Clive found Sirius setting his head down in his lap depressively. Unmistakably he heard a very soft sobbing. "If you think I'm crying, you're awfully mistaken," said Sirius, failing miserably at sounding ok.
Another boy, about Sirius's age, yet a bit smaller with light brown, medium length hair, walked over to the guard. He seemed unsure of what to say. Stuttering a lot, the boy finally shook his head, said, "never mind," and walked away. Following, Sirius sighed deeply, and said, "Great. Now I'm hearing his voice." Clive, once again tried not to laugh at the extreme irony of it all. The two both seemed to be looking for each other, yet neither noticed the other.
"I guess I ought to look for Remus now. I promise I'll come back though. You're really fun to talk to. Bye!" And with that, Sirius ran off in the opposite direction his friend went.
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By the time that it was dark, Clive's shift was just about over. He was tired, his back hurt, and he really wanted to go home. Though regardless of not wanting to be bothered, Clive was visited again. This time, not by Sirius, but by the friend he was looking for. The kid looked worried. "H…hey. Sorry for e…earlier, I was nervous. I'm Remus by the way, Remus Lupin." Clive recognized the name from when Sirius first asked for directions. Although it was funny back when it happened, the memory only brought up annoyed feelings now.
"I'm really stressed, sorry." And I'm really tired, but you don't see me complaining do you? Yeah, that's because I can't, Clive thought, sadly knowing that the Lupin boy would keep talking, not aware of how annoying he was being. "Well, more like worried actually. You see, my friend Sirius is at home, and well, they're horrible to him there. His parents that is. His brother too for that matter. He usually makes it through ok, but he's been real thickheaded this summer. I mean, he even decorated his room all Gryffindor. Ever sense then I haven't been able to send him an owl." Clive didn't even want to know what the boy meant.
"Then of course James is on vacation in Australia. He's always going there during summer. Then Peter's grounded for who bloody hell knows why. I really hate how I can't do anything about it at all." Clive sympathized a little. He also hated how he couldn't do anything to get Remus to go away. "I really hope I'm not annoying you." Clive could only think of how ironically understated that was. "I just had to vent to somebody. I would have gone to my parents, considering there very nice and supportive and such, but there off working for the ministry right now." For a moment, Clive found this very annoying that Remus's parents left him by himself, free to go and annoy innocent people. But Clive was especially in no state at all to judge a working parent.
"So you were my next first choice. Considering you're a royal guard, you can't really criticize me. Well at least not out loud." And oh did Clive want to. He didn't really care about the whole situation in the first place. It made no sense to him why both Remus and Sirius came up to him to confide in. At least the 'Remus' kid explained things a bit more thoroughly, Clive considered. It also was nice to know at least some children had enough of an education to know that a royal guard can't talk on shift.
Then Remus did something that made Clive want to groan in agony. He sat down next to him. The kid was obviously looking to stay for a while, oblivious to Clive's need to be left alone. Remus opened his mouth to say something, when all of a sudden he stopped and stood up. The sound of drums and trumpets steadily arose, and Clive knew it was finally the end of his shift.
Another group of royal guards marched out through the gates. They marched in a carefully choreographed path, switching spots with the previous guards on duty, including Clive. Soon he was marching down the street with a few other royal guards. After making it down a couple of blocks he took a left and walked alone towards his apartment. He easily could buy a nice, big house with the major amounts of money he received doing his job, but he didn't want to. After living in the building so long, he got used to it as his home. He could never part with it, and all the memories it held; all the memories he'd never relive.
Once he got home, Clive went straight to the fridge. After looking through, he decided to make himself a ham sandwich with cheese. It was his favorite kind of sandwich, and as he ate it, he started feeling a lot better. Now all he needed was some sleep. By day, he was sure to be feeling great. Probably even good enough to be excited for guard duty. That is, until his back starts hurting, and his stomach starts growling.
Following Clive's meal he proceeded to his bed in the room at the end of the hallway. Slipping into the covers, he turned to the picture frame on the desk next to his bed. It held a picture of a beautiful woman with silky black hair tied in an intricate bun. She wore a dark blue t-shirt and black jeans, looking down at the small, black haired baby girl she carried. Clive reached out to the picture, but dropped his hand mid-way. And for the first time in probably a few weeks, Clive uttered a word. "G…goodnight," he said, unused to his voice, and drifted into a deep slumber.