Disclaimer: No, I don't own Harry Potter. Yes, JK Rowling does. No, I'm not
taking any credit.
Author's Note: This is a quick story that I wrote today while sitting in my joke of an English class. My first non-humor/romance story to post on ff.net. Hope you enjoy.
Harry could see the dim outline of his back, his hunched figure as he saw alone on one of the Burrow's resident old benches. His head was turned towards the sky, and he looked as if he was searching for the heavens. Harry followed the man's gaze, staring up at the twinkling stars shining pinpoints of lights through the trees. The night was silent. Quiet chatter was floating idly through an open window, but outside the air was heavy with quiet and summer heat. Harry made his way across the yard towards the lone figure and sat silently next to him. The man switched his gaze from the night sky to stare at Harry's face. Harry had forgotten how sad he looked.
Remus Lupin was young still. Yet at age 35, he held in the lines of his face and the gray specks in his hair the pain and sorrow of years of prolonged suffering. He had seen death, seen misery, and seen pain. Harry believed he was one of the strongest people he knew.
"Hello Remus." Harry said, quietly as if not to disturb the perpetual silence enclosing them. Remus gave him a weak smile, but Harry could see no trace of happiness in his amber eyes.
"Hello Harry. Nice night, isn't it?" He stared back up at the sky.
"Yeah. Nice. Kinda quiet." Harry kicked at the loose soil with his foot. He was tired. He hadn't slept in days. The bags under his eyes proved it.
"Yes, it's very quiet. But then again, lately, it always seems quite quiet around here." Remus agreed, his voice calm and soothing as it was always was. Harry wondered who had been soothing Remus the last month. He had lost all the people who would have. Harry felt a slight pang of guilt for not being the one to comfort him in these darkest hours, but Harry was still trying to overcome his own grief. He had a feeling he would never overcome it. Harry glanced at the man sitting to his right to find him looking upwards again.
"Remus, what are you looking at?" Harry asked him. Remus tilted his head towards Harry, and was quiet for a moment.
"The stars." Harry didn't reply. After a moment, Remus continued. "Stars, Harry, seem to be the only constant in my life. Millions of years old, scattered throughout a dark universe, only visible when the sun has set, yet always there, waiting. The stars never leave the sky, Harry."
Harry didn't understand. He told Remus so, and Remus nodded, then continued to speak.
"The night I was bitten as a child, the stars were out. My first night at Hogwarts, the stars shone. The nights of running through the forest with Padfoot and Prongs, my nights of transforming. The stars were there, lighting the dark sky. The night of your parents' wedding, the night you were born, the night they died. The night Sirius died. The stars continue to shine, they continue to streak across the sky." He paused, gazing above him. "They are the only thing I know for certain will always be there with me. Stars cannot die, Harry. They simply are."
Harry understood. Stars wouldn't leave Remus like Sirius did, like his mother and father did, like he might. The stars wouldn't fade from his life like his childhood did that day he received his curse, the stars wouldn't betray him like Peter did. Harry turned and looked straight at the somber man, who was now staring straight ahead through the garden, with a look of undeniable sadness littered across his eyes. He felt a surge of respect for him, and a surge of gratitude that he still had him in his life. After moments of silence, Remus suddenly stood, his tattered robes brushing across the ground.
"We should go in, Harry. It's late." Harry nodded and stood, still thinking. Harry found himself wishing he could be strong like Remus Lupin. Suddenly, and without thought, Harry pulled him into an awkward embrace. Remus patted his back, and Harry felt instant comfort before he pulled away.
"You're a great young man, Harry. I'm proud of you, and I always will be." Harry had the feeling that Remus would never know how proud Harry was of him, and how he always would be.
Author's Note: This is a quick story that I wrote today while sitting in my joke of an English class. My first non-humor/romance story to post on ff.net. Hope you enjoy.
Harry could see the dim outline of his back, his hunched figure as he saw alone on one of the Burrow's resident old benches. His head was turned towards the sky, and he looked as if he was searching for the heavens. Harry followed the man's gaze, staring up at the twinkling stars shining pinpoints of lights through the trees. The night was silent. Quiet chatter was floating idly through an open window, but outside the air was heavy with quiet and summer heat. Harry made his way across the yard towards the lone figure and sat silently next to him. The man switched his gaze from the night sky to stare at Harry's face. Harry had forgotten how sad he looked.
Remus Lupin was young still. Yet at age 35, he held in the lines of his face and the gray specks in his hair the pain and sorrow of years of prolonged suffering. He had seen death, seen misery, and seen pain. Harry believed he was one of the strongest people he knew.
"Hello Remus." Harry said, quietly as if not to disturb the perpetual silence enclosing them. Remus gave him a weak smile, but Harry could see no trace of happiness in his amber eyes.
"Hello Harry. Nice night, isn't it?" He stared back up at the sky.
"Yeah. Nice. Kinda quiet." Harry kicked at the loose soil with his foot. He was tired. He hadn't slept in days. The bags under his eyes proved it.
"Yes, it's very quiet. But then again, lately, it always seems quite quiet around here." Remus agreed, his voice calm and soothing as it was always was. Harry wondered who had been soothing Remus the last month. He had lost all the people who would have. Harry felt a slight pang of guilt for not being the one to comfort him in these darkest hours, but Harry was still trying to overcome his own grief. He had a feeling he would never overcome it. Harry glanced at the man sitting to his right to find him looking upwards again.
"Remus, what are you looking at?" Harry asked him. Remus tilted his head towards Harry, and was quiet for a moment.
"The stars." Harry didn't reply. After a moment, Remus continued. "Stars, Harry, seem to be the only constant in my life. Millions of years old, scattered throughout a dark universe, only visible when the sun has set, yet always there, waiting. The stars never leave the sky, Harry."
Harry didn't understand. He told Remus so, and Remus nodded, then continued to speak.
"The night I was bitten as a child, the stars were out. My first night at Hogwarts, the stars shone. The nights of running through the forest with Padfoot and Prongs, my nights of transforming. The stars were there, lighting the dark sky. The night of your parents' wedding, the night you were born, the night they died. The night Sirius died. The stars continue to shine, they continue to streak across the sky." He paused, gazing above him. "They are the only thing I know for certain will always be there with me. Stars cannot die, Harry. They simply are."
Harry understood. Stars wouldn't leave Remus like Sirius did, like his mother and father did, like he might. The stars wouldn't fade from his life like his childhood did that day he received his curse, the stars wouldn't betray him like Peter did. Harry turned and looked straight at the somber man, who was now staring straight ahead through the garden, with a look of undeniable sadness littered across his eyes. He felt a surge of respect for him, and a surge of gratitude that he still had him in his life. After moments of silence, Remus suddenly stood, his tattered robes brushing across the ground.
"We should go in, Harry. It's late." Harry nodded and stood, still thinking. Harry found himself wishing he could be strong like Remus Lupin. Suddenly, and without thought, Harry pulled him into an awkward embrace. Remus patted his back, and Harry felt instant comfort before he pulled away.
"You're a great young man, Harry. I'm proud of you, and I always will be." Harry had the feeling that Remus would never know how proud Harry was of him, and how he always would be.