Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own Remus (however much I
wish I did) and I do not own the lyrics to the amazing Billy Talent song
"River Below"
Author Note: I hope you enjoy this fic, it's my first songfic and first shot at slash. The song included is (if you're too lazy to read disclaimer) "River Below" by Billy Talent. I suggest you go out and buy their cd, or burn it. Just listen to it. It's a great album. Anyways, on with the fic. O, and flames are welcomed. I like laughing at stupid people.
Another note: Song lyrics are in ~*song* form, and italics are in *italic* form.
Help Me Hurt You. ********************************************************8
Remus was sitting at his desk, marking copious amounts of homework. It was monotonous work, and he was incredibly tired, the large brown circles beneath his eyes were a testament to that. Full moon had occurred only two days before. As he shifted through his pile of yet to be marked papers- essays from the third years on the proper habitations of Boggarts- he paused as he came across a sheet with the top left corner marked "Harry Potter." He laid the foot long piece of parchment across his desk and began to read. His red ink which he used for marking up errors and suggestions for later consideration by the students lay abandoned. There was no doubt about it. Harry was excellent at Defence Against The Dark Arts. Much like a group who had called themselves the Marauders had once been... aside from Peter. A small gasp of sorrow nearly escaped through Remus' throat. But he was better then that. He was excellent at shielding his emotions from others, even if he was the only person present.
~*But go work with a mental side on.*
Poor Peter. Killed. James and Lilly. Killed. By who? Well, that was both a simple and devastating question.
~*I'm sinking, I'm twisted, I'm broke and you can't fix it.*
Sirius.
~*Defaceless masterplan.*
Sirius had killed them. Indirectly for James and Lilly, directly for Peter and twelve by standing muggles. But technicalities such as the directness of murder were not important when it came to a subject such as this. Even to the incredibly logical Remus Lupin. A clot of rage bubbled up in his throat to replace the sorrow. Turncoat. Traitor. Deceiver. Double agent. Liar. There were all too many adjectives to describe what Sirius did. Too many deserving torturous implements Remus could gladly impale him by.
~*Contraption, made of bones, nuts and bolts, creates a, new monster.*
Remus liked this rage. It was a good rage since it was structured, justified. He was allowed to hate Sirius. Even if he had been the best friend he had ever had, even if he had been...
~*I'm sinking, I'm twisted, I'm broke and you can't fix it.*
Remus shuttered inwardly, and added Harry's perfect score essay to the pile of marked papers. He then stood up from his cramped desk and stretched, with the intention of making a nice cup of tea, then settling into bed with a good book; a surefire way to crash his current train of thought. He stepped in front of his office window, yanking on the curtain to shut out some of the offending moonlight- he was still feeling sick, and the moon didn't seem to care that it's ray's weren't doing anything to help him keep his mind off of his nausea- when he heard a large booming bark.
*"Sirius."*
He thought automatically. But, no, that couldn't be Sirius. Not on school grounds, not now. He gazed across the grounds intently, until he spotted the culprit. Hagrid was heading into the Forbidden Forest with Fang at his heels. Fang barked again. The same loud, booming bark Remus had first mistaken to have been that of Sirius' Animagius form. He was hit swiftly with a tight knot of guilt.
"I should tell Dumbledore." he thought. The same thought he had pondered continuously over for the past few months since he had taken this job. A job he had been offered freely. That was a rare thing, being who he was, what he was.
~*Rejected since day one, my name is, Bastard Son.*
He was putting Dumbledore on a disadvantage, he knew that, but his highly logical mind had offered him many seemingly rational excuses that he had grabbed at eagerly:
"He'll never be able to get past the Dementors, he can't get through Honeydukes, it'd be too hard for him to get the knot on the Willow without being killed, it was Dark Magic that freed him."
But, when he thought of this, the same earnest voice would always pop up from within the back of his mind, a part that he had shunted long ago: "But Sirius wouldn't *do* something like that."
This thought just popped into his head, like it had done many times before, but this time he did not just ignore it as he was accustomed to, but spoke against it to the empty room.
"Yes he would. He has. He's used Dark Magic, and he is a Dark Wizard. He killed them. He did. He was in league with Voldemort. He wouldn't care much about disrupting the sanctity of this school. Nor would he take a second thought on killing Harry. Or me."
He was on the defensive by then, defending himself against no one but his own uneasy subconscious thoughts that were seeping to his conscious surface more rapidly then usual. And they were becoming more persistent.
"He would *never* do that. He would *never* kill Harry. Or you. You *know* he would never harm *you.*"
Surprisingly, a tear was forming in Remus' eye. He was angry with himself. Angry that he was stupid enough to keep on believing that the old Sirius, the *good* Sirius, still existed, and that he had *ever* existed, and that he had had nothing to do with Peter's and the Potter's murders. That he had never hurt Remus more then a million full moon transformations could. That *he still loved him*. That he had *never really hurt him*. That the whole bleeding thing had only been an extravagant misunderstanding.
~*Times up now/ split second/ though it fell/ lonely hearts/ never had nobody.*
The truth was that Remus still loved Sirius in a horrible way. He would kiss him, then strike him, hug him and then kick him. Ruffle his hair and then shove him onto the floor. It was horrible and confusing, and Remus knew it made him a bad person to love someone he hated so much.
~*I'm running from the inferno, they'll think I'm insane.*
What made it worse, was that anyone who could have ever helped him live again was gone. There was no point to anything anymore really. Remus kept existing. He had become accustomed to being an outcast and alone when he was younger, so the Lycanthrope had helped him in one way at least, he was able to function with little to no human contact or conversation.
~*I'm sinking, I'm twisted, I'm broke and you can't fix it.*
But now, there was a bright spot growing in his life. Harry was here. James and Lilly's boy. He was the spitting image of his father. And instead of making him feel sadly nostalgic, it made him feel proud and hopeful. Harry was salvation, he could tell, which was a very good thing. Harry was a strong, smart boy, and he would go far. Remus had a strong liking for him already, maybe even love, he hadn't had anyone to love for a long time however, so he was a bit unfamiliar with the new sense, but he knew that if he did not already love the boy, he would come to. Remus knew he could never replace James, but, he could try to fill the position of godfather, the one which Sirius had left void.
Dammit. Back to Sirius again. Another bright spot occurred to Remus (he finally tore away from the window and headed up to his bedroom quarters, knowing that running off the "Sirius" subject with tea and a book chaser would do no good) Sirius might die.
This was a grim pleasure to Remus. It made him feel both incredibly saddened and awkwardly relieved and exhilarated. Maybe with Sirius gone in body and not just in presence, Remus could finally move on. There would be closure, so to speak. He sighed deeply, as he changed into his ratty dressing gown. He needed Sirius. He needed to kill Sirius. He needed Sirius' comfort. He needed Sirius' head on a pike. All so confusing.
As Remus stared at the hated, taunting moonlight which was seeping through his window he whispered, "I love you Sirius Black. And I hate you. I need you to help me from sinking. There are many ways you could help me. Tell me you never killed my only friends, or kill yourself- or me even. Anything would be better then this. G-d I hate you."
And with that, Remus blew out his bedside candle and drew his curtains about himself. Ready for an uneasy sleep filled with dreams and nightmares of the man he had hated and loved for the past thirteen years.
~*I'm sinking, I'm twisted, I'm broke and you can't fix it. Don't make me, cause I'll do it, red blood and then we'll all go Into the river below.*
************************************************************************
Well, go on. Tell me what you think. I would really appreciate your praise/constructive criticism or flames even.
Author Note: I hope you enjoy this fic, it's my first songfic and first shot at slash. The song included is (if you're too lazy to read disclaimer) "River Below" by Billy Talent. I suggest you go out and buy their cd, or burn it. Just listen to it. It's a great album. Anyways, on with the fic. O, and flames are welcomed. I like laughing at stupid people.
Another note: Song lyrics are in ~*song* form, and italics are in *italic* form.
Help Me Hurt You. ********************************************************8
Remus was sitting at his desk, marking copious amounts of homework. It was monotonous work, and he was incredibly tired, the large brown circles beneath his eyes were a testament to that. Full moon had occurred only two days before. As he shifted through his pile of yet to be marked papers- essays from the third years on the proper habitations of Boggarts- he paused as he came across a sheet with the top left corner marked "Harry Potter." He laid the foot long piece of parchment across his desk and began to read. His red ink which he used for marking up errors and suggestions for later consideration by the students lay abandoned. There was no doubt about it. Harry was excellent at Defence Against The Dark Arts. Much like a group who had called themselves the Marauders had once been... aside from Peter. A small gasp of sorrow nearly escaped through Remus' throat. But he was better then that. He was excellent at shielding his emotions from others, even if he was the only person present.
~*But go work with a mental side on.*
Poor Peter. Killed. James and Lilly. Killed. By who? Well, that was both a simple and devastating question.
~*I'm sinking, I'm twisted, I'm broke and you can't fix it.*
Sirius.
~*Defaceless masterplan.*
Sirius had killed them. Indirectly for James and Lilly, directly for Peter and twelve by standing muggles. But technicalities such as the directness of murder were not important when it came to a subject such as this. Even to the incredibly logical Remus Lupin. A clot of rage bubbled up in his throat to replace the sorrow. Turncoat. Traitor. Deceiver. Double agent. Liar. There were all too many adjectives to describe what Sirius did. Too many deserving torturous implements Remus could gladly impale him by.
~*Contraption, made of bones, nuts and bolts, creates a, new monster.*
Remus liked this rage. It was a good rage since it was structured, justified. He was allowed to hate Sirius. Even if he had been the best friend he had ever had, even if he had been...
~*I'm sinking, I'm twisted, I'm broke and you can't fix it.*
Remus shuttered inwardly, and added Harry's perfect score essay to the pile of marked papers. He then stood up from his cramped desk and stretched, with the intention of making a nice cup of tea, then settling into bed with a good book; a surefire way to crash his current train of thought. He stepped in front of his office window, yanking on the curtain to shut out some of the offending moonlight- he was still feeling sick, and the moon didn't seem to care that it's ray's weren't doing anything to help him keep his mind off of his nausea- when he heard a large booming bark.
*"Sirius."*
He thought automatically. But, no, that couldn't be Sirius. Not on school grounds, not now. He gazed across the grounds intently, until he spotted the culprit. Hagrid was heading into the Forbidden Forest with Fang at his heels. Fang barked again. The same loud, booming bark Remus had first mistaken to have been that of Sirius' Animagius form. He was hit swiftly with a tight knot of guilt.
"I should tell Dumbledore." he thought. The same thought he had pondered continuously over for the past few months since he had taken this job. A job he had been offered freely. That was a rare thing, being who he was, what he was.
~*Rejected since day one, my name is, Bastard Son.*
He was putting Dumbledore on a disadvantage, he knew that, but his highly logical mind had offered him many seemingly rational excuses that he had grabbed at eagerly:
"He'll never be able to get past the Dementors, he can't get through Honeydukes, it'd be too hard for him to get the knot on the Willow without being killed, it was Dark Magic that freed him."
But, when he thought of this, the same earnest voice would always pop up from within the back of his mind, a part that he had shunted long ago: "But Sirius wouldn't *do* something like that."
This thought just popped into his head, like it had done many times before, but this time he did not just ignore it as he was accustomed to, but spoke against it to the empty room.
"Yes he would. He has. He's used Dark Magic, and he is a Dark Wizard. He killed them. He did. He was in league with Voldemort. He wouldn't care much about disrupting the sanctity of this school. Nor would he take a second thought on killing Harry. Or me."
He was on the defensive by then, defending himself against no one but his own uneasy subconscious thoughts that were seeping to his conscious surface more rapidly then usual. And they were becoming more persistent.
"He would *never* do that. He would *never* kill Harry. Or you. You *know* he would never harm *you.*"
Surprisingly, a tear was forming in Remus' eye. He was angry with himself. Angry that he was stupid enough to keep on believing that the old Sirius, the *good* Sirius, still existed, and that he had *ever* existed, and that he had had nothing to do with Peter's and the Potter's murders. That he had never hurt Remus more then a million full moon transformations could. That *he still loved him*. That he had *never really hurt him*. That the whole bleeding thing had only been an extravagant misunderstanding.
~*Times up now/ split second/ though it fell/ lonely hearts/ never had nobody.*
The truth was that Remus still loved Sirius in a horrible way. He would kiss him, then strike him, hug him and then kick him. Ruffle his hair and then shove him onto the floor. It was horrible and confusing, and Remus knew it made him a bad person to love someone he hated so much.
~*I'm running from the inferno, they'll think I'm insane.*
What made it worse, was that anyone who could have ever helped him live again was gone. There was no point to anything anymore really. Remus kept existing. He had become accustomed to being an outcast and alone when he was younger, so the Lycanthrope had helped him in one way at least, he was able to function with little to no human contact or conversation.
~*I'm sinking, I'm twisted, I'm broke and you can't fix it.*
But now, there was a bright spot growing in his life. Harry was here. James and Lilly's boy. He was the spitting image of his father. And instead of making him feel sadly nostalgic, it made him feel proud and hopeful. Harry was salvation, he could tell, which was a very good thing. Harry was a strong, smart boy, and he would go far. Remus had a strong liking for him already, maybe even love, he hadn't had anyone to love for a long time however, so he was a bit unfamiliar with the new sense, but he knew that if he did not already love the boy, he would come to. Remus knew he could never replace James, but, he could try to fill the position of godfather, the one which Sirius had left void.
Dammit. Back to Sirius again. Another bright spot occurred to Remus (he finally tore away from the window and headed up to his bedroom quarters, knowing that running off the "Sirius" subject with tea and a book chaser would do no good) Sirius might die.
This was a grim pleasure to Remus. It made him feel both incredibly saddened and awkwardly relieved and exhilarated. Maybe with Sirius gone in body and not just in presence, Remus could finally move on. There would be closure, so to speak. He sighed deeply, as he changed into his ratty dressing gown. He needed Sirius. He needed to kill Sirius. He needed Sirius' comfort. He needed Sirius' head on a pike. All so confusing.
As Remus stared at the hated, taunting moonlight which was seeping through his window he whispered, "I love you Sirius Black. And I hate you. I need you to help me from sinking. There are many ways you could help me. Tell me you never killed my only friends, or kill yourself- or me even. Anything would be better then this. G-d I hate you."
And with that, Remus blew out his bedside candle and drew his curtains about himself. Ready for an uneasy sleep filled with dreams and nightmares of the man he had hated and loved for the past thirteen years.
~*I'm sinking, I'm twisted, I'm broke and you can't fix it. Don't make me, cause I'll do it, red blood and then we'll all go Into the river below.*
************************************************************************
Well, go on. Tell me what you think. I would really appreciate your praise/constructive criticism or flames even.