A/N: One day it'll stop raining every other Sunday and I won't write this quickly because I'll be outside or at work or something, but that day isn't today
I would like to apologize for how… 50s this whole thing is written, if that makes any sense. Let's safely assume that this is the influence and result of "classic" dystopian literature being forced down my throat at school. Also, Tolkien exists in the HP universe now. I/we make the rules, since she-who-must-not-be-named shouldn't.
This was written for the QLFC, S9 R4.
SEEKER: Apocalypse
TW: mentions of implied suicide, apocalyptic angst
Word Count: 1,037
"A red sun rises. Blood has been spilt this night."
"Are you quoting Tolkien at me?" He says, laughing as the other man places a cup of tea in his outstretched hand.
"Maybe." Remus Lupin smiles. The motion crinkles his eyes, making his face warm and inviting, a look Sirius has always loved on him.
"Odd that we can have tea at a time like this."
"You've said that every morning for the past week."
"And it still holds true!" He replies indignantly.
The horizon is indeed red. But it is a grey sun that rises, a sun covered by the clouds that stack up above the world, against the world.
The world is ending. Has been, for a few days now, truthfully. Sirius isn't sure how he can find the courage to acknowledge that so openly.
It was a volcano, according to the Muggles.
The wizarding population knows better.
Sirius disliked the fact that all things come to an end - always has. Yet knowing that it's going to happen, that soon he will not be able to sit on this porch with Remus and sip tea, that the process will be slow and terrible, is oddly comforting in a horrifically twisted way.
"Do you think… do you think this would've happened if…" He'd asked, several nights ago as they lay under the duvet curled around one another.
"No." Remus had said. "James and Lily wouldn't - they wouldn't have let this happen."
Their friends: lost to the explosion that ripped across the world. A volcano, certainly. A supervolcano, maybe.
A magical catastrophe created by the Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort himself, that managed to kill his mortal body and all of those nearby in one fell swoop.
The twisted part was that had Dumbledore not instructed them to follow the Death Eaters to that particular part of Europe, it may never have happened.
"Sirius?" Remus' voice cut across his musings.
"Mm?"
"You had that look on your face again."
"Oh," Sirius replies, sliding his gaze from the cursed horizon to those warm brown eyes full of concern. Fear courses through him at the thought that Remus is worried about him.
"You were thinking about them again." says Remus, and it is a statement. A truth. A fact.
"Are you not thinking about them always?" Sirius asks.
Remus doesn't reply. Instead of forcing a response, Sirius takes one of those scarred, calloused hands in his own and latches onto it. It's going to be a quiet day, one full of self-reflection and little discussion.
The ash clouds will soon cover the whole world. The sun will soon disappear completely. The end will be slow.
They've agreed together that when it comes to that, they do not want to go quite so slowly.
Nothing holds them to what remains of this world. Sirius wishes someone still remained who they cared for, but Peter was on the Death Eater's side when the explosion occurred. They have no one.
"It's stupid that we're so young." Remus said the night the news had reached them as they ate supper.
"Damn Dumbledore, sticking his hands where they're not wanted." Sirius mumbled in response.
They are only 20.
Now, as Sirius looks at the hand that he holds in his, he observes how much older it must look to those who don't know Remus well. It is the years of struggle between the wonderful man and the inner wolf that have left them full of countless battle stories. There is no appreciating just how resilient a man like Lupin has been.
A bird warbles in the soft morning air. The world somehow still sounds the same outside of their tiny cottage, sitting amongst the trees and fields that continue to teem with life. The animals are unaware of the end that is coming. Sirius wishes for that sort of bliss, the type he feels when he's marching around as Padfoot.
One morning a few days before the news arrived, a fox stopped in their yard. Sirius watched it mark its territory on top of the locations Padfoot usually used for such business. Since then, he had left those spots alone. The fox felt like an omen.
The missing sun is starting to affect the plants. It is turning the world grey.
"Are you going to stop staring at my hand anytime soon?" Remus says, and Sirius realizes he has not raised his eyes from the spot between them where their hands lie.
"I thought you liked my constant, ever-loving affection?" He raises an eyebrow with the words.
"I prefer it when you don't stare without uttering a word. How do I know you're not making fun of me?"
"I would never!" Sirius exclaims in a tone of utter exaggeration. "How dare you, of all people, accuse me of such treachery!"
They play at this sometimes still. Humor remains small in supply, but it is all the joy they have.
Remus leans in to place a gentle kiss on his lips, and pulls away, soft smile returning. Sirius is secretly overjoyed to see it again.
"Shall we take a walk this morning?" asks Remus.
"That'd be nice." He says, and means it.
They take walks now. It's something that their busy lives never would've allowed for before. Now that the only danger is one that is inevitable, it is easy to let little things into the daily routine.
"I was thinking perhaps we would explore the hill behind the house today." says Remus.
It's been explored many times. They have few other places to go, and therefore pretend as though it is a new location every time they visit it.
Besides, Sirius knows they haven't yet gotten to do anything on the south side amongst the tall grass, and he thinks perhaps Remus might be up for something this day. There's a sparkle in those brown eyes that appears when he suggests they head in that direction.
Sirius may not know exactly when the end will come. He may not know exactly how they're going to go about it.
But he knows that they will stick together in a world where they have nothing more. And that, at the very least, is all he can ask for.