A/N: This is just a little sketch that I wrote up a little while ago. I've
gone back and revised it because. I thought it could be better. Yup.
That's about it. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: It's FAN fiction. Enough said! :o)
Comfort
It should have been raining.
In a novel or a movie, there certainly would have been stormy, oppressive weather: angry thunderclouds, perhaps, or just a relentless downpour of rain, as though the heavens themselves were sobbing. After all, isn't everything sadder when it rains?
But as chance would have it, the weather was incongruously mild. The air felt crisp and earthy, with that special scent on it that comes only in autumn. A mild breeze tossed flame-touched, browning leaves across the still-green grass. Somewhere in the distance, children were laughing, enjoying a pleasant Halloween night. They steered clear of this area, however; they were still too young for the competitions of dares that might later send them running, laughing and nervous, through a graveyard. particularly on the most haunted night of the year.
Despite the warm weather, Sirius Black shivered and couldn't stop.
He'd never been here before-never seen their graves. He had been in the area near the graveyard for some time during the previous year, but for some intangible, painful reason, he had never been able to bring himself to visit. And before that-
Well, there hadn't been much opportunity, back then.
And before that-
This grave hadn't existed.
But now here he was, kneeling in the grass, with the moisture of the soil seeping through his clothing to dampen his knees, staring at the tombstone.
It was really an ordinary sort of tombstone. Simple, understated marble, with two names carefully inscribed in it. It had taken him some time to find it, because there was nothing to distinguish it from any of the other grave markers in the yard, and he hadn't known where to look. When he had arrived, he had been vaguely startled to realize that finding the right stone was going to take some time. He had been tempted to use this as an excuse to just give up and get out, but that really wasn't his nature; once he had set his mind to something, he would do it, no matter what happened. So he had walked up and down the graveyard, reading the names on every marker with a single-minded, fatalistic determination, until he found those two precious names:
Lily and James Potter
Just another grave, really.
The sight hurt him so much that, for a moment, he honestly couldn't breathe, and he wondered, will I die now, too?
Hardly knowing what he was doing, he fell to his knees before the gravestone and stared at it, barely comprehending. How could something that happened so long ago still hurt as though it were only yesterday? Maybe those words which fell off so many lips every days were empty lies, and time didn't heal anything at all. Time wasn't a balm to grief; it was salt poured in the gaping wound, somehow keeping the lacerations fresh and stinging and unbearable. Tears sprang to his eyes and blurred his vision, but they didn't fall.
So here we find him: all alone in a graveyard, exposed, on a calm Halloween evening, lost in grief.
And it was here that Remus Lupin found him, as well.
Remus had visited this gravesite many times before, on almost every Halloween after 1981, so he did not need to search for the Potters' grave. But this year, the 13th year, he had known that things would be different. He had known that Sirius might be there.
Sirius. Remus walked softly up behind him, pausing just a couple of feet away. He was silent for a moment, as if he were afraid to disturb the stillness of the air, the hanging tension which somehow was not punctured even by the occasional children's shouts coming from the nearby village. Finally, he spoke-very gently, very softly. "Padfoot, what if I were an ordinary concerned citizen, hm? I'd be running straight to the Ministry now." It wasn't really a reproach, for it carried no force of disapproval. It was just something to say.
The reply comes back just as softly, almost a whisper. "I knew that it was you." Sirius doesn't turn around when he says this. He hasn't moved at all, except for a slight trembling, involuntary. Remus aches for him.
Another silence, which is only broken by the rustling of cloth and grass as Remus carefully settles himself down on the ground beside his friend. Sirius turns his head for the first time and looks at him. "You'll get all wet," he says. His voice cracks slightly, and he can barely see now through the tears that will spill out of his eyes at any moment, and then god, how will they ever stop?
"That's okay," whispers Remus hoarsely, gazing with desperate empathy into the other man's face. He means to say more, to somehow communicate the feelings churning inside him. to say, "I couldn't stand for you to come alone," or "How long have you been here?" or just, "I'm here," but the words stick in his throat. He settles for taking Sirius's hand in his own and squeezing it fiercely. The pressure is returned with sudden, shocking intensity.
Sirius closes his eyes tight shut, and the tears begin to flow freely. He's trying not to make any noise, but choking little sobs keep on escaping him. Abandoning all pretense of distance, Remus puts wraps his free arm around Sirius's shoulders, and suddenly the man is in his arms, taking the support, sobbing into his chest, letting the tears soak into Remus's shirt. "Sshh." murmurs Remus, more as a comfort than anything else, slightly rocking his best friend in his arms, "it's okay. It's okay now, don't cry." The words are entirely heartfelt, and they are only partly lies.
They will remain this way for a long time, until both their tears have slowed and the sun has set behind the hills. Then maybe they will talk, or maybe they won't need words. We'll just leave them there. They can take care of each other the best.
FINE
Disclaimer: It's FAN fiction. Enough said! :o)
Comfort
It should have been raining.
In a novel or a movie, there certainly would have been stormy, oppressive weather: angry thunderclouds, perhaps, or just a relentless downpour of rain, as though the heavens themselves were sobbing. After all, isn't everything sadder when it rains?
But as chance would have it, the weather was incongruously mild. The air felt crisp and earthy, with that special scent on it that comes only in autumn. A mild breeze tossed flame-touched, browning leaves across the still-green grass. Somewhere in the distance, children were laughing, enjoying a pleasant Halloween night. They steered clear of this area, however; they were still too young for the competitions of dares that might later send them running, laughing and nervous, through a graveyard. particularly on the most haunted night of the year.
Despite the warm weather, Sirius Black shivered and couldn't stop.
He'd never been here before-never seen their graves. He had been in the area near the graveyard for some time during the previous year, but for some intangible, painful reason, he had never been able to bring himself to visit. And before that-
Well, there hadn't been much opportunity, back then.
And before that-
This grave hadn't existed.
But now here he was, kneeling in the grass, with the moisture of the soil seeping through his clothing to dampen his knees, staring at the tombstone.
It was really an ordinary sort of tombstone. Simple, understated marble, with two names carefully inscribed in it. It had taken him some time to find it, because there was nothing to distinguish it from any of the other grave markers in the yard, and he hadn't known where to look. When he had arrived, he had been vaguely startled to realize that finding the right stone was going to take some time. He had been tempted to use this as an excuse to just give up and get out, but that really wasn't his nature; once he had set his mind to something, he would do it, no matter what happened. So he had walked up and down the graveyard, reading the names on every marker with a single-minded, fatalistic determination, until he found those two precious names:
Lily and James Potter
Just another grave, really.
The sight hurt him so much that, for a moment, he honestly couldn't breathe, and he wondered, will I die now, too?
Hardly knowing what he was doing, he fell to his knees before the gravestone and stared at it, barely comprehending. How could something that happened so long ago still hurt as though it were only yesterday? Maybe those words which fell off so many lips every days were empty lies, and time didn't heal anything at all. Time wasn't a balm to grief; it was salt poured in the gaping wound, somehow keeping the lacerations fresh and stinging and unbearable. Tears sprang to his eyes and blurred his vision, but they didn't fall.
So here we find him: all alone in a graveyard, exposed, on a calm Halloween evening, lost in grief.
And it was here that Remus Lupin found him, as well.
Remus had visited this gravesite many times before, on almost every Halloween after 1981, so he did not need to search for the Potters' grave. But this year, the 13th year, he had known that things would be different. He had known that Sirius might be there.
Sirius. Remus walked softly up behind him, pausing just a couple of feet away. He was silent for a moment, as if he were afraid to disturb the stillness of the air, the hanging tension which somehow was not punctured even by the occasional children's shouts coming from the nearby village. Finally, he spoke-very gently, very softly. "Padfoot, what if I were an ordinary concerned citizen, hm? I'd be running straight to the Ministry now." It wasn't really a reproach, for it carried no force of disapproval. It was just something to say.
The reply comes back just as softly, almost a whisper. "I knew that it was you." Sirius doesn't turn around when he says this. He hasn't moved at all, except for a slight trembling, involuntary. Remus aches for him.
Another silence, which is only broken by the rustling of cloth and grass as Remus carefully settles himself down on the ground beside his friend. Sirius turns his head for the first time and looks at him. "You'll get all wet," he says. His voice cracks slightly, and he can barely see now through the tears that will spill out of his eyes at any moment, and then god, how will they ever stop?
"That's okay," whispers Remus hoarsely, gazing with desperate empathy into the other man's face. He means to say more, to somehow communicate the feelings churning inside him. to say, "I couldn't stand for you to come alone," or "How long have you been here?" or just, "I'm here," but the words stick in his throat. He settles for taking Sirius's hand in his own and squeezing it fiercely. The pressure is returned with sudden, shocking intensity.
Sirius closes his eyes tight shut, and the tears begin to flow freely. He's trying not to make any noise, but choking little sobs keep on escaping him. Abandoning all pretense of distance, Remus puts wraps his free arm around Sirius's shoulders, and suddenly the man is in his arms, taking the support, sobbing into his chest, letting the tears soak into Remus's shirt. "Sshh." murmurs Remus, more as a comfort than anything else, slightly rocking his best friend in his arms, "it's okay. It's okay now, don't cry." The words are entirely heartfelt, and they are only partly lies.
They will remain this way for a long time, until both their tears have slowed and the sun has set behind the hills. Then maybe they will talk, or maybe they won't need words. We'll just leave them there. They can take care of each other the best.
FINE