Tainted Revelations
Remus squelched through the snow covering the Hogwarts grounds. He made a strange face at nothing in particular as he strode on, ignoring the occasional sprinkle of rain on his forehead or, less fortunately, in his eyes. Remus hated it when the snow squelched; it signified that the snow was ruined, not entirely pure anymore.
He remembered back a few nights ago, to how Sirius and himself settled themselves on a couch facing the ancient windows of the Gryffindor common room, holding hands and watching the first snowfall. He remembered that content feeling of simply being in his friend's presence, how such a trite thing as holding his hand had made him feel as if he were sharing an intimate embrace with his dark-haired friend. But he wasn't, and that was the point. That was something that Remus could never hope to have, and he was well aware of it.
In fact, the only reason Sirius had been holding his hand was because he had needed something comforting and tangible to grasp on to. He had received a letter from his family then, finally announcing his disownment. Remus had stood next to him as he read the letter sealed with the words 'Toujours Pur', He had ushered him onto the couch, worried as Sirius' face remained blank and unaffected. As Remus sat next to his friend, offering his hand, he had the opportunity to look into Sirius' stormy eyes, reflecting the diminishing fire in the hearth. Unlike the rest of Sirius, seemingly rehearsed and calmly composed, they showed a tumultuous array of emotions; rejection, hate, regret, defiance. But mostly there was vulnerability, something Remus had only once before seen lingering on Sirius' face. That one time wasn't when Sirius indirectly endangered Severus Snape of his life by leading him into the clutches of a fully transformed werewolf, but instead, when he finally took the liberty of facing a bleeding and bruised Remus, apologizing with all of his heart for what he did.
Remus had then followed Sirius' lost gaze to the window and the falling snow, frost beginning to creep down the glass like intricate spider webs. The two marauders sat there in the dying light of the fire, watching the snow and taking comfort from one another's presence. They allowed the silence convey their unspoken feelings.
Remus continued squelching through the slush on the path towards Hogsmeade, making a strange face at the mud-tainted substance covering the ground ahead of him. He ignored the rain that was gradually climaxing, oblivious of the haphazard drops of icy water dripping along his neck and proceeding down his back. Remus thought that this impure snow could somehow symbolize Sirius; tainted by his past, and presently forsaken.
Remus wondered why his thoughts always seemed to betray him and stray back to Sirius. He vaguely wondered when this had started happening, but soon realized that it had been occurring all along. He cursed himself for wanting more from Sirius, for needing to feel his hands against his own, and for always craving his presence. Remus knew though, that he could never express these feelings to anybody else, and thus, was cautious to keep them a secret.
The werewolf had finally reached his destination; Hogsmeade. He sullenly walked through the gates, not bothering to read the welcome signs and posters expressing proper mannerisms whilst occupying the small town. He ambled into the library, removing the books he had been protecting from the rain from the folds of his cloak. As he handed them to the librarian he briefly wondered if Sirius had started reading the novel he had lent him the week previous, but quickly reprimanded himself for such an absurd idea (between Quidditch, pranks, and the occasional girl, when could Sirius possibly find the time?). Remus sighed, and made his way out of the library, intent on returning to the warm common room before the rain intensified.
Remus walked back towards the gates in a dazed state, unintentionally thinking about a certain black-haired marauder again. Mere minutes later, he was surprised to find himself staring into familiar stormy gray eyes. He was astonished to find that these eyes alone had the ability to penetrate through his fog-ridden mind. The world around the entrancing pair of eyes came swirling back into focus. Remus found himself standing in front of Madam Puddifoot's. Gazing through the window, Remus watched as Sirius leaned across the table towards an older Ravenclaw girl, about to give her the kiss of her lifetime. Sirius grinned at his friend through the window, and waved his hand slightly before going in for the kill. When Sirius looked up again, Remus had disappeared, leaving only slushy footprints in his wake.
Remus squelched back towards the castle, retracing his faded watery footprints. He made a strange face, his lips seeming to go in opposite directions, his eyes focused on the slush, which had nearly disappeared. The rain was coming down in torrents now, causing Remus' tawny hair to darken to a dull shade of brown and to plaster to the sides of his face. Remus hated slushy snow, and the unpleasant squelching sound it made, but most of all he hated himself for loving someone who he couldn't have. He did, though. He knew that he was a hopeless cause. He knew that Sirius was someone completely out of his grasp, and he was well aware of it. The only problem was… his heart wasn't.