I don't know how love can blossom in the barren wastelands of my soul, or how flowers can spring beauty from a desert of stone, and yet here he is. Why? ... This seems to be the question that is always on my mind. Why?
With a hidden grin, I turn my head. Not so as to allow for any grandiose movement, but enough to catch a glimpse of perfection. His black hair enveloping his face and making my muscles tighten with just that one glimpse. His masculinity pouring from his every pore, and yet with enough feminine flair about him to do it all with such grace like the flick of his wand. He, an Adonis of dark, rugged beauty and I, a monster.
From my vantage point I can see him joking around with the others. If only they knew that all this reading, wasn't just that, but a chance to secretly watch and adore what must be God's greatest gift. The way he can flick his wrist and make his wand dance with pride to be his possession. Ah, to be his possession. If only.
I've always found it to be so entertaining, just to watch them. Their interactions, their child-like love of each other's company. I fear I must always avoid that time though. How books save me each time. Such contact, such closeness, such proximity to him, could be dangerous for me. For what could he see in me, but a beast. Funny how I have started almost looking forward to the full moon. This time with him, with them, that is what I desire most. I've always wondered why he changes as he does. Why a black dog. Out of all of them, the closest to me, the most similar in appearance. But, once again, a simple fantasy.
"Moony!" I hear the yell and realize that I am no longer alone. They've had their fun tormenting each other and now, as usual, it is my turn.
"You done getting smart?" James, Prongs, always had a way with words. I admired him so, and yet love wasn't it. With him, it was respect and admiration. Oh no, love was much more different than that!
"Is he ever?" Peter, Wormtail, so loyal and respectful. I would call him the odd man out but then, I guess I would say I am too. His mousy way of carrying himself seems so out of place for his body and still so perfect for his mind.
"Just because one day our boy Moony will teach this school a thing or two doesn't mean he isn't still up for a good fight!" And suddenly with a full force of an attack, he was on me. I struggled, but not too hard, for, he was touching me. To struggle to hard may make him leave. This, my astounding assailant was Sirius, Padfoot, my desire. Such a fearful background, but he was beyond that.
"Get off!" I practically whispered between fits of histeria.
"Not until you put that bloody 'History of ... uh...whatever' book away come get some grub with us. Wormy here has a hankering for a nice chunk of treacle tart and Prongsy here can get us an in with a house elf in the kitchen. So you up for it?"
A wisp of sadness washed over me at the realization that, this meant we would part. The tangled mess that had become our bodies, was about to be stripped one from the other. In my current state, I also realized that I could not follow as of yet without it leading to much embarrassment.
"I'll, um... catch up with you guys in a couple. Just let me finish this page." I had managed to roll out from under Sirius with only a little difficulty and now sat with my 'History of Centaurs in Eastern Europe' by Everet Groutswammy, concealing all evidence.
"Well, don't let your head swell too much Moony, I don't think Madame Pomfrey has a cure for that!" James tossed out while elbowing Peter who was doubled over in a laughing fit. The hilarity of the situation obviously lost on me.
"You two sods get a head start, I'll wait for brainiac here and we'll catch up. Who knows, you head now, you may catch up with Evans. I just saw her walk in" Sirius said with a dull friendly jealousy in his voice, coming to my defense in the usual awkward way he's so well known for. James' eyes widened at the prospect, obviously missing the tone of voice and firmly grasping Peter by the arm, he took off towards Hogwarts without even a glance back. My stomach pulled tightly with the sudden realization that I had alone time with him. We didn't get this time much, but I've always relished the time and dreamed of these moments for weeks after.
"That man would face a dozen attacking furangles just to catch a whiff of her perfume. He's bloody hooked he is. I would hate to be that whipped over one person," he said while turning to face me with an air of satisfaction about him. His words seemed to cut deeply, for I knew that as he said it, I was basking in the masculine scent that he was still exuding after his romp with the others. A quiet "Yeah" was all I could muster for I also knew that he was jealous of his friend's new found love, and that, was the silver bullet to my heart.
I fell silent, pretending to read. I was too busy mulling over my stupid infatuation to actually understand what was printed on the page before me. I dropped my head down allowing my hair to cover the sides of my face. I didn't want him to see the pain and strain that I'm sure was painted across my face. With a slight movement he shifted onto his side right beside me and we continued on in our silence. Even the beauty of a day with sun sifting through the leaves of the tree we were resting under and the picturesque beauty of the lake beside us couldn't lift my mood. I'd gone from exhilarated to downtrodden in less than a minute and was continuing to sink deeper the more I considered his words.
With a soft hand, he reached up, brushed my hair away and asked, "you done yet?" Apparently the state of my facial features told him I was hardly prepared to catch up with the others and he shifted his head so it rested on my lap and he could look up at me. I quickly turned my head away because his face framed by my lap was too much for me to handle and tears welled up. How could a love as strong as mine mean nothing? As one tear escaped it's companions and strolled down my cheek, he reached up and caught it on the edge of his finger. With a slight grin filled with care on his face, he procured his wand and pointed it at the insignificant amount of water resting there. With the same flick of his wrist I loved so much, and a slight mumble under his breath, the water came to life. What was once so insignificant was now alive and moving. This tiny droplet took the shape of a dog, but not any dog. Padfoot. This magnificent recreation of a creature I so adored, brought a smile and a slight chuckle to my lips. Amazement that one who slept through most classes, had such an ability caught me off my guard so much, that I just stared in bewilderment.
The sound of my chuckle caught the attention of the tiny creature and it took off in search of it, jumping from Sirius to I and then steadfastly making his way up my cloaks to rest on my lip. And then he melted. The beautiful creature had whetted my lips and spurned my sadness. I closed my eyes, almost disbelieving what had just happened. With a swift thorough movement I was suddenly not alone in enjoying the sweetness of the tear. Lips were pressed against mine in an embrace too unexpected, but so long yearned for.
The cosmos collided in that instant. Seconds became minutes, minutes to hours and hours to days. It was as though the tear welded our souls together through our lips. This was my confirmation, my sign that all was well. That I was cared for. I was loved. A monster, a beast, an abomination could find love.
As the enchantment wore off and our lips parted, my heart sank. We were no longer one. His eyes wove a story in my mind and I knew that he cared, that he read my sadness and that he felt the same one. His grin grew wider than usual and a beautiful brushing of pink tainted his perfect cheek.
"Done now?" he whispered in a sly way. He began to stand and with every ounce of courage I had, I pulled his head to mine and kissed him again. Fireworks set off across my lips and I knew what loves kiss tasted like.
He pulled away after a minute and finished standing, the grin still plastered on his mouth. He shot out his hand to me to help me up and I accepted this. Standing side by side, we made our way to the school, both knowing that what had happened was not to be talked about, but savored. His arms around my shoulder, I felt safe. For once in many years, I felt human. I was that of which I had only dreamed, I was normal in someone's eyes. I was loved.
I took the picture frame that had stirred such memories in me and threw it with all my might at the wall across from me. It shattered with a painful crash and the photo was dislodged from the frame, floating down and coming to rest at my feet. It was a picture of Sirius and I , arms crossed onto the other's shoulders and smiles of love, of innocence, of naivety streaked out faces. The pain had not left me, and no matter how hard I tried to forget, he always returned in my mind.
Rage came with the ebb and flow of life, much like the tides, and the friendly faces only seemed to remind me of what I'd lost rather than comfort like they'd wished. And now, here I sat, alone and lost in memories of what I wish could only still be. My cabin out in the woods was as far as I could go to avoid all memories, and they still followed me here. He was gone. The many times I whispered 'till death do us part' in his ear at night, had now parted us. I was a monster again.
I finally broke down. Tears were streaming from my eyes, sobs escaped my lips and I cupped my face in my hands attempt to shield myself from the reality I now lived. After a good twenty minutes of continual sobbing, I had run dry, no more water would seep from my eyes and cut painful wet channels down my cheek. I sat forward again and looked at the picture of my past, back when I believed in a future. As I did so, a tear escaped my cheek and landed square on the picture.
I stood up to remedy the mess I had made but my eye caught a movement and I whipped my head around to see a little dog sitting on the photo. This minuscule clear replica stared back at me. As I continued to stare, it moved to the side of the photo in which Sirius stood, still moving with his grace and pleasure, and howled. The howl was not one of pure need, but sadness, loneliness.
From there on, I knew I was still loved, and that, no matter where he was, Sirius still loved me. I knew that he was there and seeing me for who I am. A man in love, with his memories.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters from J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter books. I have no claim to them, obviously, because if I did, I
wouldn't be sitting up at 4 in the morning writing a sappy fanfic about it!