All Kinds - Moony
Author - Paige Darke
Summary - He barely remembers his life before the Veil. But he courts Death in his dreams.
He barely remember school, now. Barely remembers James, or Lily, or Peter. Half the time he barely remembers Harry. Sometimes he can't even tell you who he is.
All he remembers now is Sirius.
In his dreams it's a different story. He dreams about his family. The proud old Lupin family, whiling away centuries of wealth in a desperate search for a cure for lycanthropy. His mother's tears, the night he was attacked. His father's quiet desperation, the quiet desperation that killed his hope and then his heart before it killed him.
He dreams about Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. He dreams about the Shrieking Shack and the Willow. He dreams about moonlit runs through Hogsmeade and Padfoot's grin.
He dreams about James and Lily, about James' Quidditch and Lily's laugh. He dreams about Harry, as a baby, with James and Lily holding him, but he always has his scar.
Mostly, though, he dreams about Sirius. About his laugh and his grin and his haunted eyes. About the big lovable shaggy black dog and his horrible family and his boisterous nature. About hot kisses and stolen moments and thirteen years of imagining him howling alone in a cell.
He's always surrounded by people now. Molly Weasley is always there, bringing him food and new books to read to take his mind off of things. Hermione Granger sits by him and simply watches and he wonders if she knows. If she'll tell Harry when he arrives later in the month.
Ron Weasley, Molly's youngest boy, is avoiding him. Avoiding everyone. He loved Sirius in his own way, and he's trying to deal with it. Ron's strong. Stronger than he is.
Charlie's returned from Romania, he can hears his voice in the kitchen downstairs. He doesn't move. He can hear Bill asking about him, but he doesn't care. He picks up his bottle of Firewhiskey and wanders back to Sirius' room. The room he and Sirius had not openly shared, though just about everyone had known. He curls up in bed, and sleeps, and dreams.
Of Padfoot. Of Sirius. Of Death.
Author - Paige Darke
Summary - He barely remembers his life before the Veil. But he courts Death in his dreams.
He barely remember school, now. Barely remembers James, or Lily, or Peter. Half the time he barely remembers Harry. Sometimes he can't even tell you who he is.
All he remembers now is Sirius.
In his dreams it's a different story. He dreams about his family. The proud old Lupin family, whiling away centuries of wealth in a desperate search for a cure for lycanthropy. His mother's tears, the night he was attacked. His father's quiet desperation, the quiet desperation that killed his hope and then his heart before it killed him.
He dreams about Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. He dreams about the Shrieking Shack and the Willow. He dreams about moonlit runs through Hogsmeade and Padfoot's grin.
He dreams about James and Lily, about James' Quidditch and Lily's laugh. He dreams about Harry, as a baby, with James and Lily holding him, but he always has his scar.
Mostly, though, he dreams about Sirius. About his laugh and his grin and his haunted eyes. About the big lovable shaggy black dog and his horrible family and his boisterous nature. About hot kisses and stolen moments and thirteen years of imagining him howling alone in a cell.
He's always surrounded by people now. Molly Weasley is always there, bringing him food and new books to read to take his mind off of things. Hermione Granger sits by him and simply watches and he wonders if she knows. If she'll tell Harry when he arrives later in the month.
Ron Weasley, Molly's youngest boy, is avoiding him. Avoiding everyone. He loved Sirius in his own way, and he's trying to deal with it. Ron's strong. Stronger than he is.
Charlie's returned from Romania, he can hears his voice in the kitchen downstairs. He doesn't move. He can hear Bill asking about him, but he doesn't care. He picks up his bottle of Firewhiskey and wanders back to Sirius' room. The room he and Sirius had not openly shared, though just about everyone had known. He curls up in bed, and sleeps, and dreams.
Of Padfoot. Of Sirius. Of Death.