- Rating:
- PG-13
- House:
- Astronomy Tower
- Characters:
- Remus Lupin Sirius Black
- Genres:
- Slash General
- Era:
- Multiple Eras
- Stats:
-
Published: 05/26/2003Updated: 05/26/2003Words: 2,369Chapters: 1Hits: 675
No Other Options
audi
- Story Summary:
- Post GoF. Yeah, this is a ‘Lie low at Lupin’s’, but not really… In a mini-sequence of ficlets, a half-mad Remus is finally reunited with his mate. I have Phases (Remus POV), After the Fact (Sirius POV) and now this. While they do stand alone, they kind of fit together.
- Posted:
- 05/26/2003
- Hits:
- 675
- Author's Note:
- This is dedicated to all the people that reviewed
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Whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest motives.
– Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray, 1891
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No Other Options
I’ve always been somewhat solitary, it probably has something to do with being forced to be alone from an early age. Even before The Bite, I was often on my own. My parents considered themselves scholars, Maman was a Muggle and Papa a wizard, and they spent much of their time wandering through the ancient ruins of ages long past. Would you believe they were studying the Romans when I was born? Well, I was supposed to be twins, so it seemed appropriate to them. They studied constantly as we travelled through Europe and they only time they paid attention to me was when I was studying. After The Bite, we moved to France, my parents’ homeland, and they tried to find a cure. Well, they said they were finding it for their sweet, innocent son, but I knew even then that that was a lie. They wanted the glory of being the ones to find the cure for being a werewolf.
They never wanted me to attend Hogwarts, not even Before, they wanted me to go to Beauxbatons, just like my father had and his had before him. I was stopping their research, and they wanted me out. That and only Dumbledore would take me in. Papa knew as soon as I got bitten that I couldn’t attend Beauxbatons and I couldn’t give him threescore grandchildren, I couldn’t be normal and I couldn’t bring him any pride. Who would possibly want to take in a good-for-nothing werewolf-pup? Papa turned to the Brits. Being a Frenchmen, Papa rather disliked the Brits, and thought that if anyone was crazy enough to want me, they would. And they did. The single best thing my parents ever did for me was send me away, then they forgot about me.
I think Maman and Papa had three more children, two girls and a boy or so I’m told, to follow them and their name. I haven’t talked to them since I was ten. In the end, I’ve been better for it. My friends once looked them up, trying to urge me to go visit my parents, live and let live, but I grew irritated and that was that.
Dumbledore sent me to an old cottage of his to live after I left Hogwarts. I had to take care of it and he promised he’d send me letters frequently and even gave me use of one of his owls, a beautiful creature called Doyle. He really has been too kind to me, and for that I’m willing to give him anything. Sometimes, when I let my mind wander, I wonder how Dumbledore managed to work his way in to every one of his students’ lives, and those of the professors that weren’t his students at some point. I’ve always felt safe at Hogwarts, and I know that Harry is safe there, too. Harry and all the other students I’d grown to love in that short year. I couldn’t stay and I can’t go back. James was right all along though, teaching does suit me. I may be a solitary creature by nature, but others have a tendency to pull me forcefully from my solitude.
I miss my lack of privacy.
As a child I was always alone and then I went to Hogwarts. With three other boys in the same room as me, I could hardly turn around, much less have any privacy. After James and Lily died and I lost my custody cases, though, I pushed myself as far away from people as I could. I didn’t want them, and they obviously didn’t want me. It was an equal balance. Society was happier with one less gay werewolf, and that’s the truth of it.
When I saw Harry on the train my mind started playing games… Making connections… Harry Potter… James Potter… best mates… Sirius Black… my mate… Siri… And every time my mind did it, it was in a different order… Gryffindor third years… Marauders… Animagi… Padfoot… Paddy… Siri… And every time I was lead back to the same ending. The Map… Hiding places… Snogging secessions… Siri… It didn’t take me long to get used to a quite Peter meekly asking for help; it didn’t take me long to get used to a hyper James who wanted to master everything; it didn’t take me long to get used to a jumpy Sirius bouncing all over the place. The school is huge, and yet I remember every corner from my youth. I remember when Peter slipped on his robes and feel down the stairway letting Snape catch up to us, Sirius hexed him and we ran as fast as we could to the dormitories. I remember Halloween my fourth year, it was the day after a full moon, and Sirius skipped going to Hogsmede to sit with me – he claimed it was because James was mooning over his redhead (Lily) and Peter was in the library trying to finish a paper that was due the day before. I remember…
My day is so routine here, but I need that. I wake, eat, tend the house and gardens, eat, study and then sleep. Owls usually come sometime between noon and nine. Once a month I receive a batch of wolfsbane from Severus. I should probably take some now. I don’t really need it, not being way out here, but I’ve gotten used to keeping my mind during my transformations again. Sirius used to be the one that helped me keep my mind. Sirius isn’t here, though. Sirius obviously wants nothing to do with me or he’d have been here long ago. I’m not hiding from him. The wolf laid his scent down for his mate.
The wolf had been calling out for his mate for almost fourteen years. The wolf wanted his mate. Even before I knew of Sirius’ innocence, Moony wanted Padfoot back. He doesn’t understand it, and it’s been far too long. Wolves need their mates to survive, and so do I.
It was going to be a hard one, I could feel my body start to tremble. I’ve been through countless transformations, and yet I’m never quite ready for what happens to me. It’s my own body revolting. The wolf and I are always fighting for dominance, once a month he wins. How can I be so weak?
When the wolf is quite finished, I curled up and slept. I took the wolfsbane, so I had some control over my actions, but that didn’t stop me from sleeping in a sealed cellar. I’m safer where I can’t get to anyone.
I can’t think of words enough to describe the pain, though this one wasn’t all that bad. Most months of late, I’d woken up to find I’d torn and thrashed at myself in my sleep. I ache, but not so much as I have in the past. I don’t want to open my eyes, doing so always brings me back to a reality that I didn’t want to live. Any reality without Sirius is a reality that is pure torture.
When I got up, I took my clothes from their hook and dressed. I have a healing balm and know some healing Charms, but they aren’t worth it in the end. I’d slept all night, but it was still exhausted, and I hurried back to the cabin and my bed.
Blindly, routinely I made my way inside, limping with each step. The wolf was roaring at me, inside my head, with a fury that would make the madman gawk. I just wanted to lock myself in my room. In my room, cuddle under my duvet where I can forget about my problems, if only for a few hours.
I woke slowly, reacting to my lupine senses. I wasn’t alone. I turned my head and saw, in the corner, a huddled, black mess. I watched him watch me. Neither of us moved, we didn’t want to wake up from the dream.
“I would have come sooner, but I felt I needed to watch Harry.” We both knew there was a falseness about that, but chose not to acknowledge it.
“How is he then?” I easily slipped into the façade. It was as if small talk made it all better.
He shook his head. “I promised him that I’d take him from those Muggles during his third year, and I’ve failed, twice. He’ll be better once he sees Ron, though. The two of them are so much in love and too young to realize it.” The just like us hung in the air; unsaid.
“He’s suffered more than anyone his age should have to. Each year only amplifies it.”
“Dumbledore asked me to help him reunite the Order,” I knew this, the headmaster had told me two weeks prior. “You’re the last on my list,” he chose his words carefully, so unlike when we were younger. He used to always say exactly what he was thinking, and make a fool of himself for doing so. “I wanted to be with you, with Moony, last night. You locked yourself in the shed, though.” He used my near-dead nickname to describe the wolf. It was like the past, only different.
“I’m safer in there, Sirius. As it is, I’m awful close to the town.”
“Close! Your nearest neighbour is five miles from here, and it’s twice that to the nearest town!”
“Moony was looking for you,” I was nearly whispering and no longer looking at him. “I would wake in the morning and be far from where I had transformed the night before. Once I transformed in Paris and woke in Calais. Moony was continually searching for his lost mate.” I tried to make it sound like fact, but I knew that he detected the hurt in my voice.
“Paris?” Once I had told him that I’d never go back to France, but that time seemed eons past.
“Thirteen years ago, I needed to get out of England. There were too many memories. It hurt so much. Everywhere everyone was talking about how you betrayed James and Lily. Voldemort was gone, and you were the last Death Eater locked in Azkaban. And who was I after all that? How could I ignore what everyone said? Yet Moony wanted his Padfoot. Moony was vicious, he didn’t want to be without his mate. He would have run to Azkaban and dug you out if he knew where you were.”
“And you?” his was whispering, too. His voice sounded nearer than it had been before. I think I was crying.
“I wanted to hate you. I wanted to push you from my thoughts. I wanted to hope the Dementors got you for what you did to James and Lily and Peter,” I admitted. “I didn’t want to be missing you, I didn’t want to love you. Society doesn’t like accepting werewolves. Can you begin to think what they feel for a werewolf who couldn’t get his mind off of a man that was in league with Voldemort and had killed three of his best mates?”
“But I didn’t…”
“I know that now, and I suppose I did then, too. But everyone was telling me else wise. I couldn’t think anymore. It all hurt. I thought you betrayed me…”
“Maybe I did, I didn’t do what I was sent to Azkaban for, but I did betray you. You gave me everything – your friendship, your love, your trust… and I don’t deserve to be talking with you now.” The air shifted and I knew that he was leaving. It wasn’t going like it was supposed to. “I’m sorry for the pain I caused.”
“If you’re so sorry, Siri, why are you leaving?” I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and turned to face him. “Siri, these last fourteen years without you have nearly killed me… especially since you’ve been free for two of them. If you leave now, I won't be able to live on. How dare you act so selfishly at a time like this!” I collapsed in a fit of tears and rolled up on the bed like a small child.
His strong arms wrapped around me, holding me in a comforting embrace that I’d all but forgotten. Was he crying, too? I don’t know. What I do know, is that I never wanted him to let go. I never wanted him to leave me again. Even if wizards live longer than Muggles, we were getting older, and I wanted him with me for the rest of my life. We’d lost so much time already and everyone else was gone, one way or another. It was just the two of us, starting our lives anew.
“Don’t leave me, Siri! I couldn’t bear it if you did. You came back to me, you’ve been gone for two years and I was starting to think that you’d forgotten about me… about us…” the last couple words were a whispered afterthought, and I wasn’t sure I’d said them until he responded:
“Never, Rem. Never!” It was a desperate attempt. He held me tighter still. “I seriously thought that you wouldn’t want me back,” he admitted, flinching slightly on the overused childhood pun of his name. “You’ve forgiven me for so much already, I didn’t want to come back and see you not forgive me. I didn’t want to come back and see that you’d moved on.”
“Siri,” I ran a hand through his tangled mass of hair, hair that used to glisten in our youth, “I can't do anything but forgive you.” He made a move to protest, and I halted him with a finger to his lip, “it’s nothing to do with the bond, or perhaps it’s everything to do with it, but I can't move on because I have no life without you, Siri, and I never wanted to.” I replaced my finger with my lips, and we kissed for the first time in over fourteen years.
And, as Muggles say, the rest is history.
Whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest motives.
– Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray, 1891
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No Other Options
I’ve always been somewhat solitary, it probably has something to do with being forced to be alone from an early age. Even before The Bite, I was often on my own. My parents considered themselves scholars, Maman was a Muggle and Papa a wizard, and they spent much of their time wandering through the ancient ruins of ages long past. Would you believe they were studying the Romans when I was born? Well, I was supposed to be twins, so it seemed appropriate to them. They studied constantly as we travelled through Europe and they only time they paid attention to me was when I was studying. After The Bite, we moved to France, my parents’ homeland, and they tried to find a cure. Well, they said they were finding it for their sweet, innocent son, but I knew even then that that was a lie. They wanted the glory of being the ones to find the cure for being a werewolf.
They never wanted me to attend Hogwarts, not even Before, they wanted me to go to Beauxbatons, just like my father had and his had before him. I was stopping their research, and they wanted me out. That and only Dumbledore would take me in. Papa knew as soon as I got bitten that I couldn’t attend Beauxbatons and I couldn’t give him threescore grandchildren, I couldn’t be normal and I couldn’t bring him any pride. Who would possibly want to take in a good-for-nothing werewolf-pup? Papa turned to the Brits. Being a Frenchmen, Papa rather disliked the Brits, and thought that if anyone was crazy enough to want me, they would. And they did. The single best thing my parents ever did for me was send me away, then they forgot about me.
I think Maman and Papa had three more children, two girls and a boy or so I’m told, to follow them and their name. I haven’t talked to them since I was ten. In the end, I’ve been better for it. My friends once looked them up, trying to urge me to go visit my parents, live and let live, but I grew irritated and that was that.
Dumbledore sent me to an old cottage of his to live after I left Hogwarts. I had to take care of it and he promised he’d send me letters frequently and even gave me use of one of his owls, a beautiful creature called Doyle. He really has been too kind to me, and for that I’m willing to give him anything. Sometimes, when I let my mind wander, I wonder how Dumbledore managed to work his way in to every one of his students’ lives, and those of the professors that weren’t his students at some point. I’ve always felt safe at Hogwarts, and I know that Harry is safe there, too. Harry and all the other students I’d grown to love in that short year. I couldn’t stay and I can’t go back. James was right all along though, teaching does suit me. I may be a solitary creature by nature, but others have a tendency to pull me forcefully from my solitude.
I miss my lack of privacy.
As a child I was always alone and then I went to Hogwarts. With three other boys in the same room as me, I could hardly turn around, much less have any privacy. After James and Lily died and I lost my custody cases, though, I pushed myself as far away from people as I could. I didn’t want them, and they obviously didn’t want me. It was an equal balance. Society was happier with one less gay werewolf, and that’s the truth of it.
When I saw Harry on the train my mind started playing games… Making connections… Harry Potter… James Potter… best mates… Sirius Black… my mate… Siri… And every time my mind did it, it was in a different order… Gryffindor third years… Marauders… Animagi… Padfoot… Paddy… Siri… And every time I was lead back to the same ending. The Map… Hiding places… Snogging secessions… Siri… It didn’t take me long to get used to a quite Peter meekly asking for help; it didn’t take me long to get used to a hyper James who wanted to master everything; it didn’t take me long to get used to a jumpy Sirius bouncing all over the place. The school is huge, and yet I remember every corner from my youth. I remember when Peter slipped on his robes and feel down the stairway letting Snape catch up to us, Sirius hexed him and we ran as fast as we could to the dormitories. I remember Halloween my fourth year, it was the day after a full moon, and Sirius skipped going to Hogsmede to sit with me – he claimed it was because James was mooning over his redhead (Lily) and Peter was in the library trying to finish a paper that was due the day before. I remember…
My day is so routine here, but I need that. I wake, eat, tend the house and gardens, eat, study and then sleep. Owls usually come sometime between noon and nine. Once a month I receive a batch of wolfsbane from Severus. I should probably take some now. I don’t really need it, not being way out here, but I’ve gotten used to keeping my mind during my transformations again. Sirius used to be the one that helped me keep my mind. Sirius isn’t here, though. Sirius obviously wants nothing to do with me or he’d have been here long ago. I’m not hiding from him. The wolf laid his scent down for his mate.
The wolf had been calling out for his mate for almost fourteen years. The wolf wanted his mate. Even before I knew of Sirius’ innocence, Moony wanted Padfoot back. He doesn’t understand it, and it’s been far too long. Wolves need their mates to survive, and so do I.
It was going to be a hard one, I could feel my body start to tremble. I’ve been through countless transformations, and yet I’m never quite ready for what happens to me. It’s my own body revolting. The wolf and I are always fighting for dominance, once a month he wins. How can I be so weak?
When the wolf is quite finished, I curled up and slept. I took the wolfsbane, so I had some control over my actions, but that didn’t stop me from sleeping in a sealed cellar. I’m safer where I can’t get to anyone.
I can’t think of words enough to describe the pain, though this one wasn’t all that bad. Most months of late, I’d woken up to find I’d torn and thrashed at myself in my sleep. I ache, but not so much as I have in the past. I don’t want to open my eyes, doing so always brings me back to a reality that I didn’t want to live. Any reality without Sirius is a reality that is pure torture.
When I got up, I took my clothes from their hook and dressed. I have a healing balm and know some healing Charms, but they aren’t worth it in the end. I’d slept all night, but it was still exhausted, and I hurried back to the cabin and my bed.
Blindly, routinely I made my way inside, limping with each step. The wolf was roaring at me, inside my head, with a fury that would make the madman gawk. I just wanted to lock myself in my room. In my room, cuddle under my duvet where I can forget about my problems, if only for a few hours.
I woke slowly, reacting to my lupine senses. I wasn’t alone. I turned my head and saw, in the corner, a huddled, black mess. I watched him watch me. Neither of us moved, we didn’t want to wake up from the dream.
“I would have come sooner, but I felt I needed to watch Harry.” We both knew there was a falseness about that, but chose not to acknowledge it.
“How is he then?” I easily slipped into the façade. It was as if small talk made it all better.
He shook his head. “I promised him that I’d take him from those Muggles during his third year, and I’ve failed, twice. He’ll be better once he sees Ron, though. The two of them are so much in love and too young to realize it.” The just like us hung in the air; unsaid.
“He’s suffered more than anyone his age should have to. Each year only amplifies it.”
“Dumbledore asked me to help him reunite the Order,” I knew this, the headmaster had told me two weeks prior. “You’re the last on my list,” he chose his words carefully, so unlike when we were younger. He used to always say exactly what he was thinking, and make a fool of himself for doing so. “I wanted to be with you, with Moony, last night. You locked yourself in the shed, though.” He used my near-dead nickname to describe the wolf. It was like the past, only different.
“I’m safer in there, Sirius. As it is, I’m awful close to the town.”
“Close! Your nearest neighbour is five miles from here, and it’s twice that to the nearest town!”
“Moony was looking for you,” I was nearly whispering and no longer looking at him. “I would wake in the morning and be far from where I had transformed the night before. Once I transformed in Paris and woke in Calais. Moony was continually searching for his lost mate.” I tried to make it sound like fact, but I knew that he detected the hurt in my voice.
“Paris?” Once I had told him that I’d never go back to France, but that time seemed eons past.
“Thirteen years ago, I needed to get out of England. There were too many memories. It hurt so much. Everywhere everyone was talking about how you betrayed James and Lily. Voldemort was gone, and you were the last Death Eater locked in Azkaban. And who was I after all that? How could I ignore what everyone said? Yet Moony wanted his Padfoot. Moony was vicious, he didn’t want to be without his mate. He would have run to Azkaban and dug you out if he knew where you were.”
“And you?” his was whispering, too. His voice sounded nearer than it had been before. I think I was crying.
“I wanted to hate you. I wanted to push you from my thoughts. I wanted to hope the Dementors got you for what you did to James and Lily and Peter,” I admitted. “I didn’t want to be missing you, I didn’t want to love you. Society doesn’t like accepting werewolves. Can you begin to think what they feel for a werewolf who couldn’t get his mind off of a man that was in league with Voldemort and had killed three of his best mates?”
“But I didn’t…”
“I know that now, and I suppose I did then, too. But everyone was telling me else wise. I couldn’t think anymore. It all hurt. I thought you betrayed me…”
“Maybe I did, I didn’t do what I was sent to Azkaban for, but I did betray you. You gave me everything – your friendship, your love, your trust… and I don’t deserve to be talking with you now.” The air shifted and I knew that he was leaving. It wasn’t going like it was supposed to. “I’m sorry for the pain I caused.”
“If you’re so sorry, Siri, why are you leaving?” I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and turned to face him. “Siri, these last fourteen years without you have nearly killed me… especially since you’ve been free for two of them. If you leave now, I won't be able to live on. How dare you act so selfishly at a time like this!” I collapsed in a fit of tears and rolled up on the bed like a small child.
His strong arms wrapped around me, holding me in a comforting embrace that I’d all but forgotten. Was he crying, too? I don’t know. What I do know, is that I never wanted him to let go. I never wanted him to leave me again. Even if wizards live longer than Muggles, we were getting older, and I wanted him with me for the rest of my life. We’d lost so much time already and everyone else was gone, one way or another. It was just the two of us, starting our lives anew.
“Don’t leave me, Siri! I couldn’t bear it if you did. You came back to me, you’ve been gone for two years and I was starting to think that you’d forgotten about me… about us…” the last couple words were a whispered afterthought, and I wasn’t sure I’d said them until he responded:
“Never, Rem. Never!” It was a desperate attempt. He held me tighter still. “I seriously thought that you wouldn’t want me back,” he admitted, flinching slightly on the overused childhood pun of his name. “You’ve forgiven me for so much already, I didn’t want to come back and see you not forgive me. I didn’t want to come back and see that you’d moved on.”
“Siri,” I ran a hand through his tangled mass of hair, hair that used to glisten in our youth, “I can't do anything but forgive you.” He made a move to protest, and I halted him with a finger to his lip, “it’s nothing to do with the bond, or perhaps it’s everything to do with it, but I can't move on because I have no life without you, Siri, and I never wanted to.” I replaced my finger with my lips, and we kissed for the first time in over fourteen years.
And, as Muggles say, the rest is history.