A/N: Written in about twenty five minutes, with practically no editing. It hardly has any direction either, but I'd just figured I'd post it until I felt like tweaking it.

His Affliction
11/30/05

He had heard the things they said about him in the break room during tea. He knew that every time he walked into the room and it got suddenly quiet, several people jumping nervously to their feet to refill their cups, they were talking about him. Him and his...affliction.

It wasn't all that unheard of this day and age, what with the way things were falling apart, how people were dying left and right. What happened to your neighbors at night was something completely unrelated to you. Very few things were supposed to surprise you or upset you in times of war.

But them...they were morbidly fascinated. Remus could tell by the way theystole glanceshim as he flipped the pages of a book, or dipped his quill in the inkpot, or even how he stacked the tomes he was neck deep in every day. As if they were expecting some physical sign, some difference between him and themselves that they thought they should have caught earlier, or that they carefully store away in their minds to never do, just in case.

Remus could handle it, however. It wasn't anything new. Just an extension of his youth, the days when young boys or his age would blink wildly at him in fear, confusion, and, scuttling backwards, avoided every contact at the fear of contracting his "disease."

Memory charms were helpful in this instance.

Unfortunately, now, they could do no good. One person was inconspicuous. Six or seven or eight would be extremely tricky for someone not particuarly skilled in that complex area, and therefore just plain daft. He would have to suck it up. One day they would understand. Just hopefully in his lifetime, if they didn't take him away and burn him at the stake like their ancestors before them did to those like him.

Until then, the only thing he needed after a long day at the office with the jeers and conspicuous gazes and the suddenly quiet rooms, was a nice book and a cup of tea in front of the fire. And a few of those little chocolates with hazelnuts sprinkled on top. Well, maybe more than a few.

And sometimes, that did the trick. A little warmth and alone time with Henry David and Victor and William were all it took to bring back what little satisfaction he had with himself. The smell of the dusty pages and the thick bindings and hand-tipped illustrations of churchbells and balconies brought him closer to the feeling of home than he'd gotten in all his thirty six years.

And what a lie he told himself everytime he tried to convince himself that.

There was one person, and one person alone that brought him all that. He loved this person so much it hurt to think about it, but it was a good hurt, the kind where you knew you had to love and be loved as much, if not more than it hurt. And most nights, when he allowed himself to think about it, it hurt like hell.

Like tonight for example. Fire, chair, book, tea, chocolates. Every ingredient for a perfect night. But, realizing he'd read the same paragraph six times, and thereupon realizing he didn't even know what book he was holdling was, he knew it was one of those nights.

Closing his book, and moving over to the couch where he could lay out, Remus closed his eyes and imagined a world where there was no love like his own. A world without hurt like his own.

An uneventful life; a life not worth living.

And who better to remind him of this, than the person who walked into the room next.

"Hullo, Moony. Sleeping before midnight? That's new."

A heavy weight dropped down on his feet, pushing them down into the cushions.

Remus cracked a drowsy eye at the playful man on his feet. Sirius grinned at him, then tweaked the material of his pants at the cuff. "Bad day? I see you but that bloody big book down. Not like you."

" 'orrible day, actually," Remus responded, covering his face up with an arm. He expected the hand at his ankle to move up his thigh, so he didn't even flinch.

"What happened?" His voice was softer now, a more serious and protective side flaring up.

"Just the people at the Order. Watching me again, talking behind my back."

Remus could just see the angry grimace on Sirius' face. "Oh...Moony, I'm sorry. Do you want me box their ears? That's about all I'm good for, I'm afraid. And not even physically, since I can't leave this house."

Remus could feel his warm body shifting positions to squeeze inbetween the back of the couch and his body. Sirius buried his face into Remus' side, and his hand clutched at the fabric of his jumper.

"They'll get over it, eventually. Don't worry about it."

"It?"

"Us."

"Ah. That again."

"Always, Padfoot, always."

He felt his arm being pulled away from his eyes, and found two dark grey orbs peering softly into his own. Love and hurt mingled in his chest. "You know, I'm a little jealous."

"Whyever is that?"

"Because those buggers get to watch you all day long. I'd give my left arm to be able to watch that bum of yours, hour upon hour upon hour..."

A smile creeping to his face, Remus knew once again that this was worth all the staring and the whispering. This, right here, that brought warmth when there was no fire, and assurance when there was no hope.

He knew, that when there was no fire, no chair, no tea, and no books...there would always be Sirius, his beautiful affliction.