WANTING, WAITING, WAIVING, Chapter 6
By Reija Linn
Loneliness and loss makes us do strange things, actions we would, perhaps, never have thought of before. Perhaps it was loneliness that drove Peter Pettigrew to betray his friends and his lover, so many years back. Never sparkling and inventive like Sirius, always the first to think of a prank or jump into adventure, admired by so many for both his looks and his mind, never intelligent and brave like James, the pole in their midst, unofficial leader, the one you turned to when you needed problems solved, nor loyal and strong like Remus, bearing his terrible curse over the years, never complaining, yet opening his heart to others so freely if they needed help. Even his own girlfriend proved to be, or so he perhaps thought, on a higher level than himself, quick of mind and tongue, cunning in most forms of magic, and beautiful, which, in all honesty, no one would ever have described Peter as - though not ugly or plum, he had a certain plainness and clumsiness about him, and was certainly not handsome. Perhaps his own feelings of inadequacy, and the longing to be more, to do more, to have more power made him change his alliance so many years ago.
Whatever his reasons, it was his actions that served as a starting whistle for the chain of events to come, action and reaction, cause and effect that always follow each other.
Mistrust once planted, though maybe laughed off at the time, is as a festering wound, driving deeper and deeper the more one denies the possibility of its truth, until one day, it hits the bone, gnawing from inside at ones innermost beliefs. When Peter Pettigrew voiced to Sirius Black his suspicion that Remus could be the traitor, albeit not directly but by using subtlety, the one thing he was tremendously good at, Sirius laughed the matter off. But night after night he sat in his room, or lay in his bed, brooding, and thus the suspicion was founded, with the terrible results that started paying off one Halloween night, many years ago.
James and Lily Potter were killed by Voldemort, leaving their son Harry an orphan. Subsequently, triggered by blinding anger and wish for revenge on his friends behalf, Sirius Black was convicted to the prison of Azkaban to serve a life sentence.
The war in general, and that fateful night in particular, had left many victims, but not only those obvious and mentioned above. The people left behind, families, friends, lovers, were also affected, and left to loneliness and despair. Mrs. Gladis Pettigrew, widowed mother of Peter, had lost her only child, seemingly to death, and no honorary awards and posthumous medals could change the fact that she had been stripped off the one thing in her life she still cherished after her husbands death. Joyle Watson had lost her lover, painfully reminded of him every time she touched the thin golden ring on her finger. They had wanted to marry as soon as the war was over. And Remus Lupin had lost, though in a different way, the one person who had been able to plant himself firmly into his heart and soul, closest to him amongst his few friends. He had come to his decision only a few nights prior to the shattering events of the first of November, 1981. He would tell Sirius that he loved him, and try to make their relationship work, if Sirius was still waiting for him, as he had claimed to do over a year ago.
Loneliness leads to despair, and despair is a powerful if painful emotion, as strong as love or hate or passion. When Joyle Watson sought out Remus Lupin, to share their anguish and perhaps find comfort in one another, one thing lead to another. No one else, outside of what had once been their little circle, could possibly understand, so they largely distanced themselves from the outside world, waving off well-meaning visitors to Remus' apartment, which they now shared. The inevitable happened, and they tried to dim their pain in passion, though the thoughts on their minds remained the same. It was not an act of love, that they shared bed and bodies that night, nor even of friendship, but the desperate wish for oblivion, just a moment of forgetting how their world had crumbled around them. It happened only once, for they both knew in their hearts that they would never be able to truly forget. But, alas, as these things go, once was enough. Neither of them had thought to use protection that night.
It is well known that in these times in the wizarding world, it was not unusual for a parent to raise his or her children alone. Marriage no longer was a necessity. Yet it is also known that few if any people are immune to failure, and it is common, if unwise, to subconsciously try to use children as a means of mending ones wounds. Many a distanced couple has tried to save their marriage or relationship by having children, most often leading to disagreeable results for both themselves and their children. So it is, perhaps, understandable, that when Joyle told Remus she was pregnant, he asked her to marry him. Not out of love, both of them knew that, but to try and make a new beginning. He thought that if he had to care and take responsibility for a child, he could maybe stop focusing on the loss of his best friend, extinguish the hurt that the betrayal of the one he loved had caused him. And it is also understandable that Joyle agreed, though at the time she harboured only affection and deep friendship for Remus.
They got married, scarce a year after Voldemorts downfall. Their wedding night they spent not as any other couple in the bolts of lovemaking, but in each other's arms, talking, trying to mend. It was then that Remus promised his wife that he would not betray nor ever leave her, for he knew that was her greatest fear, to loose yet another person in her life. She kissed him warmly, and when this time they made love it was, though not the passion one harbours for a lover one desires, not tainted by the painful thoughts of those they had once been or wished to be with.
Their pain had not ended, though. Besides the thoughts of the past and the turmoil in their hearts, more hurtful events were to follow. Their daughter born to sickness and dying within a year. The death of Joyle's father, her only remaining parent. Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban, then still thought a criminal. And the truth, finally revealed, of Peter having being the traitor in their midst.
Pain bonds hearts together, and Joyle Lupin had long discovered her feelings for Remus had changed over the years. She loved him with the desperation that only deep loss and suffering can conjure, and with Sirius proven innocent, at least to Remus and herself, her deepest fear was to once again loose a person she loved. She knew he had promised her not to betray her, never to leave her, and she knew he was too noble a person to break his word. But sometimes, when she looked into his eyes, they were adrift far away, and she knew he was thinking about Sirius. Sometimes, when she touched him at night, he would gently take her hand, kiss it softly, and then regard her with silent apology in his eyes. Sometimes, when he slept and she could not, she would see his eyes flutter under the closed lids as he dreamt, and by his expression she would know that he was not dreaming of her but of Sirius, even before he whispered the name of his friend one night in his sleep.
That evening, when Cherubim brought her Remus' message, she sat in her armchair at the fire and cried as she thought over her impossible situation. Her impossible love.
TBC
A/N: The next chapter is actually already written, but rated NC-17, and has to be rewritten to fit the standards of Fanfiction.Net. Those of you who wish to read it in its unaltered adult version can request me to send it to you by email. Ask for it at thiari@theganan.de with an age statement saying that you're at least 18 years old. My apologies for the trouble.
By Reija Linn
Loneliness and loss makes us do strange things, actions we would, perhaps, never have thought of before. Perhaps it was loneliness that drove Peter Pettigrew to betray his friends and his lover, so many years back. Never sparkling and inventive like Sirius, always the first to think of a prank or jump into adventure, admired by so many for both his looks and his mind, never intelligent and brave like James, the pole in their midst, unofficial leader, the one you turned to when you needed problems solved, nor loyal and strong like Remus, bearing his terrible curse over the years, never complaining, yet opening his heart to others so freely if they needed help. Even his own girlfriend proved to be, or so he perhaps thought, on a higher level than himself, quick of mind and tongue, cunning in most forms of magic, and beautiful, which, in all honesty, no one would ever have described Peter as - though not ugly or plum, he had a certain plainness and clumsiness about him, and was certainly not handsome. Perhaps his own feelings of inadequacy, and the longing to be more, to do more, to have more power made him change his alliance so many years ago.
Whatever his reasons, it was his actions that served as a starting whistle for the chain of events to come, action and reaction, cause and effect that always follow each other.
Mistrust once planted, though maybe laughed off at the time, is as a festering wound, driving deeper and deeper the more one denies the possibility of its truth, until one day, it hits the bone, gnawing from inside at ones innermost beliefs. When Peter Pettigrew voiced to Sirius Black his suspicion that Remus could be the traitor, albeit not directly but by using subtlety, the one thing he was tremendously good at, Sirius laughed the matter off. But night after night he sat in his room, or lay in his bed, brooding, and thus the suspicion was founded, with the terrible results that started paying off one Halloween night, many years ago.
James and Lily Potter were killed by Voldemort, leaving their son Harry an orphan. Subsequently, triggered by blinding anger and wish for revenge on his friends behalf, Sirius Black was convicted to the prison of Azkaban to serve a life sentence.
The war in general, and that fateful night in particular, had left many victims, but not only those obvious and mentioned above. The people left behind, families, friends, lovers, were also affected, and left to loneliness and despair. Mrs. Gladis Pettigrew, widowed mother of Peter, had lost her only child, seemingly to death, and no honorary awards and posthumous medals could change the fact that she had been stripped off the one thing in her life she still cherished after her husbands death. Joyle Watson had lost her lover, painfully reminded of him every time she touched the thin golden ring on her finger. They had wanted to marry as soon as the war was over. And Remus Lupin had lost, though in a different way, the one person who had been able to plant himself firmly into his heart and soul, closest to him amongst his few friends. He had come to his decision only a few nights prior to the shattering events of the first of November, 1981. He would tell Sirius that he loved him, and try to make their relationship work, if Sirius was still waiting for him, as he had claimed to do over a year ago.
Loneliness leads to despair, and despair is a powerful if painful emotion, as strong as love or hate or passion. When Joyle Watson sought out Remus Lupin, to share their anguish and perhaps find comfort in one another, one thing lead to another. No one else, outside of what had once been their little circle, could possibly understand, so they largely distanced themselves from the outside world, waving off well-meaning visitors to Remus' apartment, which they now shared. The inevitable happened, and they tried to dim their pain in passion, though the thoughts on their minds remained the same. It was not an act of love, that they shared bed and bodies that night, nor even of friendship, but the desperate wish for oblivion, just a moment of forgetting how their world had crumbled around them. It happened only once, for they both knew in their hearts that they would never be able to truly forget. But, alas, as these things go, once was enough. Neither of them had thought to use protection that night.
It is well known that in these times in the wizarding world, it was not unusual for a parent to raise his or her children alone. Marriage no longer was a necessity. Yet it is also known that few if any people are immune to failure, and it is common, if unwise, to subconsciously try to use children as a means of mending ones wounds. Many a distanced couple has tried to save their marriage or relationship by having children, most often leading to disagreeable results for both themselves and their children. So it is, perhaps, understandable, that when Joyle told Remus she was pregnant, he asked her to marry him. Not out of love, both of them knew that, but to try and make a new beginning. He thought that if he had to care and take responsibility for a child, he could maybe stop focusing on the loss of his best friend, extinguish the hurt that the betrayal of the one he loved had caused him. And it is also understandable that Joyle agreed, though at the time she harboured only affection and deep friendship for Remus.
They got married, scarce a year after Voldemorts downfall. Their wedding night they spent not as any other couple in the bolts of lovemaking, but in each other's arms, talking, trying to mend. It was then that Remus promised his wife that he would not betray nor ever leave her, for he knew that was her greatest fear, to loose yet another person in her life. She kissed him warmly, and when this time they made love it was, though not the passion one harbours for a lover one desires, not tainted by the painful thoughts of those they had once been or wished to be with.
Their pain had not ended, though. Besides the thoughts of the past and the turmoil in their hearts, more hurtful events were to follow. Their daughter born to sickness and dying within a year. The death of Joyle's father, her only remaining parent. Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban, then still thought a criminal. And the truth, finally revealed, of Peter having being the traitor in their midst.
Pain bonds hearts together, and Joyle Lupin had long discovered her feelings for Remus had changed over the years. She loved him with the desperation that only deep loss and suffering can conjure, and with Sirius proven innocent, at least to Remus and herself, her deepest fear was to once again loose a person she loved. She knew he had promised her not to betray her, never to leave her, and she knew he was too noble a person to break his word. But sometimes, when she looked into his eyes, they were adrift far away, and she knew he was thinking about Sirius. Sometimes, when she touched him at night, he would gently take her hand, kiss it softly, and then regard her with silent apology in his eyes. Sometimes, when he slept and she could not, she would see his eyes flutter under the closed lids as he dreamt, and by his expression she would know that he was not dreaming of her but of Sirius, even before he whispered the name of his friend one night in his sleep.
That evening, when Cherubim brought her Remus' message, she sat in her armchair at the fire and cried as she thought over her impossible situation. Her impossible love.
TBC
A/N: The next chapter is actually already written, but rated NC-17, and has to be rewritten to fit the standards of Fanfiction.Net. Those of you who wish to read it in its unaltered adult version can request me to send it to you by email. Ask for it at thiari@theganan.de with an age statement saying that you're at least 18 years old. My apologies for the trouble.