Rating:
PG
House:
Astronomy Tower
Characters:
Remus Lupin Sirius Black
Genres:
Slash Humor
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Order of the Phoenix
Stats:
Published: 09/13/2003
Updated: 09/13/2003
Words: 1,567
Chapters: 1
Hits: 1,426

Pictures Never Lie

Maddy

Story Summary:
Harry almost squealed when he came face to face with Remus, who was sitting in his bed, looking sleepy but wearing the very same apologetic expression on his face than the picture-Remus had worn…well, before he started kissing Harry’s dead godfather, anyway. ````“Even in pictures, he never knew how to behave himself…” Remus said, his lips stretching into a grin for a second.``Post OotP. Harry comes to wake Remus up, and makes a startling discovery. Slash.

Posted:
09/13/2003
Hits:
1,426
Author's Note:
I formerly posted this on the Wolfstar Cookie Jar, and just remembered today that it was actually long enough to be posted into one of the Houses. So here it comes again, with only one or two sentences added.


Pictures never lie

Harry carefully closed the door shut with his foot and stepped further into the room, heading for Lupin's bedside table. Problem was, said table was far too crowded for a breakfast tray to be laid onto it. Harry scanned the room and turned towards the chest of drawers, which was empty except for a thin layer of dust. His hands now freed, he turned back towards the bed, watching the sleeping form of his ex-professor, completely hidden by the sheets and covers except for a mop of hair on the pillow. From the curves of the covers, Harry could tell Lupin was rolled up in a ball, and he also thought he knew where the second pillow had disappeared to. He felt a tight knot in his throat, wondering if Lupin had always slept that way or if it was yet another reflection of the forecast look the werewolf had been sporting for months. When Harry was there, Lupin smiled and did small talk and everything, but every time Harry walked in on him, or observed him from afar, he could see the sadness in every of Lupin's gestures, in his mere stance, in the melancholic melody of his voice. It had been so ever since Sirius had died, and Harry often wondered if it would ever stop. Not that he didn't understand Lupin (When will you call me Remus? he heard the professor humorously ask him in his head, as he did every time Harry talked to him) (And when will you stop calling me "professor"?); the last of his best friends had died (Peter was just as good as dead, if you asked anybody), it was the end of an era, and yet another tragic death. Harry could only imagine how L...Remus might feel.

And Harry? His heart had healed. It had been long, painful, and he had been reluctant in letting the healing occur in the first place, but he was feeling better now. He was still sad, and he still dreamt of Sirius from time to time, waking up in shameful tears, but he had stopped being bitter, which, according to everybody, was a good thing. He wasn't so sure himself. Part of him felt like he was betraying Sirius by not keeping up the hate he had felt during the first months.

Remus stirred in his bed and Harry shook his head imperceptibly, bringing his thoughts back to the present. It was already well past ten in the morning, but Harry was reluctant to wake Remus up. He was always the first to be up and going, so if he was still in bed at this late hour, he must have had his reasons. Go and explain this to Molly, though. Harry knew everything she ever did was out of love and compassion, but he wished she understood that sometimes, people needed to be left alone. For their own good.

Harry cast a glance at the ratty curtains, which barely hid the soft sunshine from view. When his eyes went back to the bed, they spotted a small frame on the table, which he hadn't noticed before. Harry silently stepped closer, careful of not making the rotten wood floor squeak, and he reached out for the framed picture, with quasi-deference. He walked to the window to get a better light, and smiled.

He knew instantly were the picture had been taken, because that tree was his, Hermione and Ron's favourite, right near the lake at Hogwarts. Remus was there, and Sirius too, both with their arms around each other's shoulders. Harry's heart gave a little jolt at the sight, and he willed himself to stay happy, because it was, after all, a happy picture. He guessed they must be around 17, because they looked pretty much like they had done in the Pensieve, only a little taller. They were both waving at him, grinning with an air of deep happiness...an End-of-exams happiness, most probably. The fact that absolutely no book lay around Lupin was a big indication, in Harry's mind. He found himself once again wondering if the pictures had the slightest idea of what had happened to their real-selves, but he knew it couldn't be so, and it was far better that way. Under his eyes, Sirius was still carefree, still in possession of every good memory he had, with a bright future ahead of him...if only he could change it, that was. Harry frowned and shushed his brain, concentrating on the picture. Sirius seemed to have grown tired of waving and was now squinting up at him, as if he was wondering whether it was James looking down at them. Lupin was beaming, but Harry could tell from the movement of his robe that he was shifting a bit, probably tired of standing up for all eternity. Harry smiled again and lowered the picture, deciding that he would just open the curtains, and let Remus wake up if he felt like it.

But then, something happened that Harry had never thought he'd see. This was why at first he simply cast it on a trick of the light. However, when he brought the picture closer to his eyes again, he could hold no doubt. Sirius wasn't looking at him at all anymore, apparently far more interested by his neighbour's neck. Oh. And earlobe, evidently. Harry felt his cheeks flush and gulped down, wondering if he was going insane. The Remus from the picture grinned awkwardly at him, looking almost apologetic, and started trying to push Sirius away from him..."trying" being the key-word. To be honest, he didn't seem to be trying very hard, although he did look deeply embarrassed. Harry saw his tiny lips moving and wished he could hear what was being said. From the way picture-Sirius stepped back and laughed (obviously) loudly, head thrown back, it must have been either very stupid or very funny. Remus straightened his robe, his cheeks glowing. Harry breathed a little sigh, hoping it had just been a prank, but just then Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus and leaned closer again, this time aiming for the corner of Remus's mouth. Harry felt a strong urge to look away, but found out he couldn't. Remus pushed again, shifting more, then cast a weird anxious look at Harry and seemed to sigh, and next thing Harry knew Remus and Sirius were engrossed in kissing each other, hands getting lost in ebony and dirty blond, eyes closing. Harry almost dropped the frame in shock and quickly started tiptoeing back to the bedside table, his cheeks burning with shock and shame.

He almost squealed when he came face to face with Remus, who was sitting in his bed, looking sleepy but wearing the very same apologetic expression on his face than the picture-Remus had worn...well, before he started kissing Harry's dead godfather, anyway.

"Even in pictures, he never knew how to behave himself..." Remus said, his lips stretching into a grin for a second.


Harry's mouth worked over thin air as he stood at the foot of Remus's bed, the metal frame still clutched in his sweaty hands. Then he did the first natural thing that came to him: "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snoop..."

"It's okay," Remus said, before stifling a yawn. He crossed his hands on his lap and scrutinized Harry's face, looking worried. "You...do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Harry said before he could even think about it, then he looked down with shame. To his surprise, he heard Remus chuckle.

"It's okay. I understand."

Harry looked back up at him, finally moving to put the picture back where he had found it. "You'll let me talk about it later, though?" Lupin asked, looking up at him.

"...yes, of course," Harry said, not sure he meant it. At the same time, Lupin's prolonged sadness suddenly made ten thousand times more sense than before, and Harry thought maybe it would help, if Remus had somebody to talk to. He sure would like to talk about Sirius with somebody who had been so close to him.

"Good." Remus seemed to hesitate, then softly said: "You can go now, if you want."

Harry shifted on one leg, then the other, then said: "I brought you breakfast."

"Thanks." Lupin smiled at him and Harry felt his cheeks flushing again, although he had no idea why. He walked to the door, wondering what the hell he would tell Ron when he'd face him; then he thought maybe he would go hide a bit in Buckbeak's room, just long enough for his heart to stop hammering so hard in his chest.

"Harry?"

Harry's hand froze on the doorknob, and he didn't look around, hoping very much Remus wouldn't say some very disturbing thing like "We were in love," or "We had splendid sex."

"You're not too...you're not too shocked are you?"

Harry knew exactly what Remus meant. "No," he answered, and this time he meant it. The fact that they had both been boys was just a detail compared to the startling revelation that they had been together. Harry knew he didn't make much sense, but he understood himself, which was, after all, what mattered.

He opened the door and stepped out, trying to get rid of the image of his two surrogate fathers French-kissing each other under his and Ron's tree.

--------