February passed, shedding her white shroud to reveal her browning grasses. Now silver rain was beginning to fall, and the earth began to breathe again in feeble, gasping breaths. Remus watched storm clouds gather slowly, bruised blues and dismal grays assembling quietly and weeping softly until only their hollow carcasses remained, which were swept away by the mournful winds. He pressed his face against the cold glass and watched his breath form little clouds, in which he engraved Sirius' initials until they too were hollow.
In this time of gentle winter, where colors began to return and song began anew, Remus felt himself fading. His attention became a homeless bird, flitting from one brief excitement to the next, straying from work that needed to be done. March had come timidly, and Remus began to wait for the imminent storm to break, for the waves of soft rains were whetting the earth's desire for nourishment but never quite satiating it. The clouds hardly moved from the horizon, blocking the lurid sun as if they were unable to roll away. And so it had been for several weeks, the youth mused.
"Moony?" a soft voice shattered Remus' serenity. "Er… Moony?" Remus turned his head from the rain-streaked window and his eyes met with those of deep silver, so delicately framed with lashes; the eyes which he had so nonchalantly looked at weeks ago, which now caused him to avert his gaze. "I thought I could find you here," Sirius grinned nervously and lowered himself into an armchair next to Remus'. They sat in silence for a few moments before Remus turned back to the window. Sirius took this opportunity to study his pale face, framed in yellow-gold and gently freckled; dark circles had pooled under his liquid honey eyes, which palely reflected the passing world. Remus wore a grave air, enshrouding himself in its solemn folds.
The shafts of sullen sunlight that had just started to penetrate the clouds dappled his hair, his skin, his robes, and Remus carried a wisdom and sadness beyond his years. The sunlight shone dully in his eyes; Sirius noticed him picking pensively at crimson threads on his chair. Sirius stirred uncomfortably, the silence settling heavily around him; he spoke again.
"Moony…" Sirius began, then hesitated. "Remus," he started again in a soft voice. Lupin turned to face Sirius, and he realized that this was the first time Remus had made eye contact with him in several weeks. His head was tilted at a questioning angle, and his eyes were slightly confused. "Er, Moony," Sirius began again. Remus' unfaltering yellow gaze began to make him feel uneasy. "We've been really worried about you. You haven't been at any meals recently and… you don't really seem to be interested in anything any more. 'You alright?"
Remus was once more staring out the window, considering his response. "I suppose I'm just a little out of it," he murmured.
Sirius grinned. "Good. I hate to see you like this, Lupin. It's depressing, mate."
Remus laughed, genuine laughter shrouding a bitter undertone. "Things have just changed a little. I simply have to… adjust."
Now it was silver eyes that shone confusion. Remus grinned wolfishly at this look and Sirius gave a small smile; something about Remus' face made him feel oddly like cornered prey.
Remus sat watching the clouds, his body spread out on the corpse of a snow bank. He observed them gather and felt the sky darken, felt the air thicken; this was the storm he had been waiting for. When the graying darkness was complete, the rains began to fall; gently at first, but increasing steadily as gales of wind breathed through them. Remus sat on his knees, robes plastered to his damp flesh, the moisture of his body indistinguishable from the moisture falling through air. Harder and harder the sky wept; lightning penetrated the clouds as thunder moaned loudly, vibrating through the earth. The wind pulsed through the trees, brining huge droplets crashing down through the snow.
Remus was now crying, his tears washed away by the raging storm. The wind now began wailing Sirius' name and Remus wept along with it, aching for what Delia had. He staggered down to the lake and waded into the crisp waters, drunken by love and despair. As the storm climaxed, he silenced, listening not to the voices of his misfortunes but to the furious melody of the storm. Rain turned to hail, cutting into the snow and lake, and Remus began to laugh, softly at first, but harder and harder until he was sobbing from joy and sadness all at once. He sank to his knees, shivering from the cold, and laughed and wept until he ached. He fell back onto the shore of the lake, shaking and sputtering, coughing and crying.
As he headed back to the castle, the sky began to clear.
Author's Note- I know thunderstorms are a summer thing, but they do happen in winter. Sometimes. Like I researched it. Kay thanks.
P.S. Review or I'll eat your firstborn