A/N: Well, I decided to go through and revise all my fics. If this is your first time reading this fic, I hope you like it. If you've read it before, try to spot what I changed. *wink*
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There were festivities inside. Fireworks going off, all sorts of snacks, and they were even letting the students have strong alcoholic beverages. It was the celebration to end all celebrations. But even after two shots of tequila and some turkey sandwiches, Remus Lupin wanted no part of it.
The War was over. Harry was graduating. These sorts of occasions always brought back memories.
He stared into the night as he stood listlessly on the balcony, his thin fingers drumming on the railing in boredom. People were laughing. Joking, congratulating... They would all be happy until they woke up the next morning with a hangover the size of Canada, when they would realize that being cheerful had its costs. The War was over. Harry had lived. All was well with the world until they were to remember their own problems. A girl who couldn't be older than sixteen wandered out to Remus' haven, fumbling with a cigarrette case and a wine glass as she approached. Her head was bent forward, fiery curls darkening her eyes and throwing her pale face into shadow. The few conversations she had been included in clung to her like the stale aroma of smoke, further thrusting her into the intrigue that was breaking the dam in Remus' mind. When she looked up, hair tumbling away from her face, he saw that a cigarette was pressed firmly between her full lips, her eyes closed as she inhaled the tobacco. She dropped the cigarrette from her mouth, blowing out pink smog and grinding the butt under her heel. As she did this she turned, now facing the man who had once been her professor with a curious expression.
"Good evening, Mr. Lupin." she said calmly, the tone of her voice matching that of the smoldering, half-crushed joint that now lay on the cold granite floor.
"Virginia," he said, nodding. The moon shone down on her face now that her hair was not obstructing his view, and he examined her carefully. She had large brown eyes with thick black lashes, freckles dusted across her nose in a way that could only be described as "cute", although there was an air of sophisticated dignity about her -- one that was not usually found amongst teenage girls. Remus couldn't help but smile to himself. She was so different than the timid, soft-spoken Ginny Weasley he had first become aquainted with.
"I take it you don't approve of the party," she commented, a smirk to rival Lucius Malfoys slowly spreading across her face. "not that I can blame you." she continued, idly gesturing towards the door that lead back inside Hogwarts. "Just because Harry's alive they have an all-out celebration, when it was people like you and Mr. Black that really helped."
"I'm flattered you think I'm so important," he replied, giving her a questioning look. "but, Harry is the one who defeated Voldemort..."
"He wouldn't have been able to do it without you and Sirius, though," she countered, taking a few steps closer. "I've found that he has a few... emotional dysfunctions," She was now within his reach, not even arms-length away. She reached up and brushed hair from his face with a slender hand. "Harry may in fact be the Boy Who Lived," she continued quietly. "but he didn't try at all. How hard is living for Harry? People are protecting him everywhere he goes. It's people who fight to live, who fight to keep others alive, that are the real heroes."
"What about everyone else?" he whispered, hardly daring to breathe when this girl was in such proximity.
"Everyone else," she said, taking another step towards him. "can go to the deuce. People may not notice, but while they're busy pretending to live their lives, I watch them. I know who the saviors are, and I know which of them keep up a pretense for the sake of glory or self-confidence... You're a savior, Mr. Lupin..." she mumbled this last bit as she stared into his eyes. He marvelled at how quickly hormones could react after years of neglect as he listened to her soft voice.
"Call me Remus," he said, an almost pleading tone in his clichéd words.
"You're a savior, Remus," she replied, laughing gently. "Remus, Remus, Remus..." She spoke his name like a darkly enticing song, making him realize just how much he enjoyed being named after a legendary murder victim when she breathed it in his ear. She may have been young, she may have been one of his students, but she was just what he needed at that moment. Cool, seductive and unattainable.
But he wanted her at that moment, which is all that mattered. That was why he kissed her, his stomach twisting into a series of knots as he elated himself, her hands combing through his hair as he tasted those full lips of smoke and blackness. He had never held anything so deep, so tainted yet so perfect -- and he enjoyed every minute of it. She was everything he had ever wanted to be but never dared.
When he finally let her go, it was with swollen lips, wrinkled clothes, and a bemused smile on her face. When she had finally allowed him to remove his hands from her waist, it was with a pounding heart, lipstick on his collar, and a resolution to apply for the Defense Against the Dark Arts job before summer's end.
He smiled as she walked away, hoping to death that he would see her soon, and that he would be able to look into those young, cynical eyes. That he would be able to entangle his fingers in that mass of crimson hair, and that she would return the feeling.
And with that, he turned and continued to stare into the overwhelming amount of deep dead blue that was the night sky.
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