My fourth entry in the Gaia Sorting Hat Guild contest. We were limited to four paragraphs�. . . o 3o young!Remus, some time before his first sign of magic.
i'll be okay
Mum won't stop crying; Dad hasn't said a word since. He's just hurt. He's cut his knees and busted his arms plenty of times. How's this different? Why are they all saying something is wrong with him?
"There's nothing wrong with me," Remus argues to the Healer who bandages his arm, "I've got hurt lots of times. I'll be okay." There is no reassurance from the Healer. The Healer's silence nerves Remus and his confidence diminishes. "I will be okay, won't I?"
The Healer pauses. Finally, reluctantly, he looks him in the eye. He has pretty eyes, Remus thinks, Yellow like lemons. He's different, this Healer, exotic like people from the stories his father and big brother read to him at bedtimes. He must've done a lot of wicked stuff like those people, gone to different places and met different people. Lucky. Remus wants to be different.
It's then that Remus realizes the Healer's eyes are glittering in the strengthening light of the rising sun. Why is everyone crying? He's gotten hurt tons of times before. Just when he is about to demand again if he'll be okay, the Healer grasps his left hand, the one tightly wrapped in the crisp white bandages, and says, "Of course you'll be okay! You'll be fine, don't you worry." Not noticing the hoarseness of the Healer's voice, nor the tears streaming from his eyes, Remus grins.