Disclaimers: I make absolutely no claims to these characters; they are the sole property of their original creator/author. I make no profit from this work of fiction, and no disrespect is intended.
Rating: G. Nothing objectionable here.
Cast: Remus Lupin, Lily Evans, with random James and Sirius.
Notes: This set of mental images have been sitting in my head and in my fic idea file since I saw PoA for the first time, and eventually, they just had to come out. I'm using the common fanon idea that Lily's quite fond of Muggle music; rather old Muggle music, sometimes, in this fic. "It's Only a Paper Moon" is Rose, Harburg, & Arlen, "I Believe in Music" is Gallery, "Morning Has Broken" is Cat Stevens, "Come Go with Me" is the Del Vikings, and the title of the fic is taken from the first line of "How High the Moon" by Hamilton & Lewis. Feedback is appreciated.
Canon/Timeline: MWPP era.
Summary: "Somewhere there's music / how faint the tune." Five scenes from a friendship that spanned years.
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SOMEWHERE THERE'S MUSIC
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I. It's Only a Paper Moon
Remus could have sworn the clock's hands were actually slowing down. The sooner he finished with the chapter, the sooner he could leave, but the information he sought was remaining stubbornly elusive, and the afternoon threatened to last forever.
A knock at the door startled him, but he decided to be grateful for the interruption.
"Remus." Lily's voice rose slightly on the first syllable of his name; she shifted the books wrapped in her arms. "I had to return these... Professor Thorne isn't here?" He shook his head, and stepped back to let her in, closing the door behind her to block the noise from the hall.
She deposited the books on the professor's desk, then, rather than leaving, leaned against the bookshelf closest to the door. Like the rest of the room, it was full to overflowing with texts and various Muggle artefacts. "No James," she said. "No Sirius, and no Peter. Are classrooms the only places you can get peace anymore?" A smile played at the corners of her lips.
Remus sighed, only half-serious. "Even the library is no longer safe."
Something seemed to have caught Lily's eye; she tilted her head, thumbing through a small stack of records neatly organised on one shelf. "These are new!" she said, but immediately corrected herself. "Well, not new. Actually, very old, but they weren't here last time." She chuckled, her soft smile gone a little nostalgic. "My parents listen to this stuff."
He shut the book in front of him, planning to continue the research after supper. He was aware of Lily watching him put his quill away, then she chose a particular album and pulled the dust cover from what turned out to be a phonograph, sitting on a table beside the shelves. "Don't worry," she said, though he hadn't been, "she doesn't mind letting me use it, once in a while." She lowered the needle.
There was a piano, muted drums, and a clear, strong female voice. Tolerable, he supposed, if unremarkable. Lily sang along, almost under her breath, while he replaced all of the texts he'd removed from the shelves. "I can't sing," she said unselfconsciously.
"You sound all right."
She grinned, then nodded toward the desk at which he'd been sitting. "Nobody should have to do homework on a Saturday afternoon."
He raised an eyebrow, looking pointedly toward the stack of books she'd returned, then back to her.
"I made use of them last night," she said, by way of explanation.
"How's Friday night any better than Saturday afternoon?"
A shrug was her only response as she changed the song before the first one had ended. "I suppose it's better than doing it Sunday night at half-past ten. Like some," she added as an afterthought.
"Are you going back to the common room before supper?" he asked once he'd finished packing up, sitting on the edge of his desk.
She shook her head. "Not yet. After a while," she answered. "I'd only intended to come down for a moment but... I seem to have gotten distracted." She opened out the purple album jacket in her hand, showing him the pictures on the inside. "Are you?"
He nodded, but didn't move toward the door, knowing he stood little to no chance of being any sort of productive once he returned to the dormitory.
"You could always wait, if you like," she said, perceptively. "It'll give you a few minutes more peace, and I promise I won't be all that long." She handed him the first jacket, and pulled another from the shelf.
II. I Believe in Music
"I still think that one of these days you're going to get caught," Lily said while she changed the record on the phonograph. "You'll get detention for a week. Or worse."
"In the unlikely event that that happens," Sirius said, sending a folded paper dragon flying over Remus' head with a flick of his wand, "I'll be sure to incriminate you, as well, since you're the one benefiting from our bi-monthly abduction of certain noise-making Muggle artefacts." He wrinkled his nose. "And that is noise, Lily."
"It's not noise, it's new. Well, newer than everything else in the Muggle Studies room. Anyhow," she continued, "I was talking about your stealing food."
"It's not stealing, really," James rationalised. "Once you're into the kitchens, the house-elves practically fall all over one another to give it away."
"And we never get caught," Sirius said; it was somewhere between an embellishment and a lie. "We're rescuing Peter from detention on the way back, and--"
"Rescuing?" Lily cut in, exasperation in her voice. "You're not--"
"He means pick him up, since Peter's done at eight," Remus clarified. "'Collect' doesn't sound dramatic enough."
Sirius' glare was half-hearted at best. "Now," he said loudly, "let's go already, James."
"Back soon enough," James promised, flashing a smile at Lily as he followed Sirius out the door.
Remus waited until the door had closed before muttering "Immobilus." The paper dragon fell to the floor at his feet; he picked it up and dropped it on the bed beside him.
Lily reached up, taking it and turning it over in her hands. "What do you think?" she asked, inclining her head toward the album jacket on the floor between her and the phonograph.
"It's all right, I suppose." Remus decided. "I like the older stuff better."
"See, I told you last year you'd come to like that 'older stuff'. I borrowed this one, though, from my sister."
"Is this the type of borrowing where your sister knows you have it?"
She laughed. "You know me too well. She'll find out when she gets it back. If I'd asked her outright she would have said no, but I don't think she'll even notice it's gone." She pulled her legs up and rested her chin against them, setting the paper dragon on Remus' knee. "Besides, once she knows that I brought it here, she won't want it back." He expected her smile to fade, but it didn't, much.
III. Morning Has Broken
"I'm never going to get this done before Saturday." Hands on hips, Lily surveyed the half-packed mess that was her bedroom. "I almost wish I could just make it all arrange itself into trunks and be done with it. It's the picking and choosing that's taking so much time, and besides, it's too haphazard if I don't do it myself."
"You have three days, Lily." Remus reassured her, sitting on the edge of her empty desk with his hands in his lap. "You'll have it finished, and you'll even manage to have enough time for wedding jitters."
She seemed to be trying to smile and frown at the same time. "I've already got those," she said. "In spades." She tossed him a tiny box, and it rattled as he caught it. Placing it into the trunk at his feet, he watched her turn around in the middle of the room. One hand was tangled in her hair, and she hummed to the music playing softly in the background as she decided what to do next.
"You know, though..." he started after a minute or two of silence. She didn't give him a chance to go any further.
"... I bet James is worse."
"Far worse," Remus agreed. "But he's got Sirius with him to keep him sane."
"He's got Sirius, and I've got you." She chuckled as she climbed onto a chair; detaching the curtains from their rod let a stream of sunlight into the room. "No offence to Sirius, but mine's the better half of the deal."
He laughed, blinking against the light, and took the end of the curtain she offered. "I'll refrain from offering my opinion on that." The folded fabric went into another trunk, and she closed the lid.
"Pity," she said, with a grin that was almost a smirk, and handed him a stack of books that had been on the floor.
"Where do you want these?" he asked, a little while later, holding a collection of records in his arms.
She shook her head. "Nowhere. Exactly where they were. I refuse to pack them until five minutes before I walk out the door."
Her bed had been stripped down to the frame and mattress, and it squeaked softly as he settled on the end. After a moment, she joined him, bumping their shoulders together lightly. "Promise me something," she said.
"Like what?" he said, turning his head to look at her.
"Come visit. The flat's small--I don't think we'll be there long, anyhow--but we'll make room."
"I'll do what I can." He smiled softly.
"If worse comes to worse, you could always travel with Sirius. You know he'll be around fairly frequently."
He raised an eyebrow. "I am not getting on that motorbike of his."
"Remus," she said, and he had the odd feeling he was being chastised. Taking an album out of his hand, she crossed the room.
"I've seen how he flies a broom, Lily. I'm not anxious to discover how he flies anything else."
"Oh, all right," she said, with a light-hearted air of resignation. "But I'm still holding you to that promise."
"I'll count on it."
IV. Come Go with Me
"James is an idiot."
"We established this several years ago, Lily."
She appeared in the doorway joining the living room and the kitchen with two glasses in her hand. "Point taken. However, I assume I'll be spending plenty of nights alone here. So it's only the second night and the house is mostly empty except for trunks and boxes... it shouldn't make a difference." She made a face, then chuckled, handing Remus his glass as she took a sip from her own. Rather than taking a seat next to him on the sofa, she sat on the floor.
"I like this place better than the last one already," she said. "Doesn't take much to make me happy. It's a house rather than a flat, there's more space, and there's a garden. Plus," she added, with a one-shouldered shrug, "an extra bedroom down the hall from mine and James'."
"That could prove useful."
"Eventually," she said; his hand reached out, touching her shoulder. "I think..." she paused, and sighed. "I think I'm about ready to put down roots. As much as any of us can. This," she gestured to the room, "feels like the start of something permanent."
Remus nodded. "I can understand that."
"I thought you might." She reached up, squeezing his fingers, then let go. "Tomorrow, I fix up this room. And give you a proper tour of the garden and the lane, since I didn't get around to it today. Tonight," she continued, "I wander around and figure out where I'll put things."
"Like you've been doing for the past two hours." He grinned at her over the rim of his glass.
She took a moment to switch albums on the phonograph, the only other item in the room, other than the sofa, that she'd unpacked. Then, standing up, she drifted across to the window, using one hand to shield her eyes against the early-evening sun.
He tilted his head when the music started again. "Early nineteen-fifties?"
"Late," she corrected. "For some reason I like it, sort of. Maybe just because I heard it so often when I was growing up." She tapped her foot against the floor, then suddenly turned back to him. "Do you ever dance anymore?" she asked, like the thought had just occurred to her.
"I haven't, not for ages."
"That's a shame," she said. "I always thought you were good at it." Her brow furrowed for a moment, then a quirky smile crept over her face and she knelt beside the sofa. She lifted the needle from the record and changed the song. Standing, she held out her hand.
He blinked. She waited.
Shaking his head with a faint smile, he got to his feet. She took his hand in her smaller one, her other hand on his shoulder as his arm slid around her waist. It wasn't as fluid, nor as easy, as it had been a couple of years ago, but her laughter echoed in the near-empty room. She collapsed onto the sofa once the song ended, with him beside her.
"I'm out of practice," she said, a slight flush colouring her cheeks.
"As am I," he replied. "Obviously." The last word earned him a light smack on the arm.
"Thanks for being here," she said, quietly, after a few minutes had passed without conversation. "If I didn't say so before."
"You did. And you're still welcome."
V. How High the Moon
"The leaves'll be changing soon," Lily said, closing the window to keep out the breeze, turned chilly since the sun started to set. She lowered the volume on her phonograph, and made her way back to the sofa. "Earlier than usual, you think?"
Remus nodded, handing a mug of tea to her as she passed and took a seat in a chair opposite him. "I think so. Winter's coming fast this year."
"You're going to stay until James comes home tomorrow, aren't you?"
"Absolutely," he replied. "We didn't have more than a half hour earlier, and it's been far too many months since we've been able to do something like this." He set his teacup down on the end table with a half-smile that almost managed to look convincing.
"It has been. Not since the first week in the house. Which reminds me, James and I are going to find a way to get you, Sirius, and Peter all here for an evening. I've decided that all of our paths need to cross at once."
"I'd like that. Honestly, I don't even see Sirius as much as I used to. Or as much as I'm used to."
Sympathy in her eyes, she touched his wrist with her fingers. "Oh," she said suddenly, "I had something I wanted you to hear." Rummaging around in the cabinet beside her chair, she unearthed a familiar purple album jacket, the edges battered and the colours faded.
His eyes widened in recognition and a trace of surprise. "Is that... ?"
"Yes and no. It's a copy I borrowed from my parents... I did tell you, once upon a time, that they used to listen to this stuff."
A warm smile spread over his face. "Is this the type of borrowing--"
"They know I have it, Remus." She'd replaced the record on the phonograph, and let it play. "I spent more time listening to it in the four days I was home to visit than they have in the past five years, so they didn't mind."
"My opinion stands," he said, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the sofa when she moved to sit beside him.
"And which opinion is that?"
"It still sounds nicer than anything you ever got from your sister."
He was rewarded with her laughter. "They remind me of you, now. These songs," she said, her voice growing quiet. "Of school, mostly, and how the rest of them used to complain no matter what music I chose. James still does, sometimes."
Remus chuckled softly. There didn't seem to be anything further to say for a time; the soft music filled the room, and the only other sound was the occasional clink of teacup against saucer. The room was darkening, the light outside fading. Neither moved to find a lamp.
"If I can ever find another copy," she said, "it's yours."
-- finis
[2004.09.02]