Standard disclaimers for Harry Potter apply. In other words, I
own absolutely nothing other than the wacky plot idea; the characters and
world belong to the wonderful J. K. Rowling.
Warnings: Slash, fic author conjectures up the wazoo, etc. etc.
SPOILERS for PoA and GoF. This has some ties with my monster
fic (ch´, aren´t all of my fics monster fics) Deep As You
Go, but not a whole lot. It was simply a fun look at Moony and Padfoot
in a less traumatic situation.
A/N: Bluebells are a flower used to denote constancy--in my
opinion, a perfect flower for Moony and Padfoot.
It was an odd sort of house to find in the British countryside, but the
residents of the nearby town paid little mind anymore to the high
wood-and-iron fences, and the dark, austere brick face that loomed over
the top of the fence through the trees. It was an old house to be sure;
rumour was that it had been the country estate of an eccentric noble´s
family in the time of King Henry IV.
Now, however, it had only a single occupant, the last of a long line
of French minor nobility to own the place. Though no-one ventured up into
the hills to Luna Manor except on a dare, the nearby townspeople knew of
the house´s lone dweller and wondered about him amongst themselves.
He was a decidedly odd chap, though no-one had ever been able to find
real fault with him. True, his clothes weren´t in the best repair, but his
manners were pleasant. And he was attractive despite the silver that laced
his tawny hair and the fine lines that framed his wide sherry eyes and
sombre mouth.
"There´s a boy who´s suffered," Granny Ella told her granddaughter one
day as the man ambled slowly across the commons, long hair blown over his
face by the teasing wind.
"Nana, he´s just old," the child said, wrinkling her nose.
"No child, not that one--not in body, anyway. Old in heart, old in
soul." Granny Ella clucked her tongue, adjusting her spectacles. "That one
is heartsick, despite his smile; mark my words, child, he´s no more an old
man than you´re an old woman."
Granny Ella couldn´t recall if the man had always lived at Luna Manor
or not--some days she thought so, but others she thought him a recent
arrival. It was hard to judge his age exactly, for at times he looked near
fifty, others like a wide-eyed schoolboy. She went with what her heart
told her, however: he´d once been a boy who laughed and smiled and played
at mischief, and was now a man afraid he no longer knew how.
Not that his age really mattered. Despite the rumours of haunting at
the manor, and despite the usual problems with curious teenage boys, the
man was a quiet neighbour--so quiet that, at times, people forgot he was
there.
"Tom said he saw a bear up in the woods!"
"You git--there haven´t been bears in the woods for years! Not since
the wolves took over. `Sides, what does Tom know?"
"Yeah. Probably someone´s pet dog got loose is all."
The small knot of teens continued their bickering until one of them
noticed the black-clad figure strolling across the commons with a battered
pack over one shoulder.
"Look, it´s Loony Lupin! You know, they say he talks to the wolves."
"Who says? He´s just an odd Frenchie who lives alone in the woods.
Gotta be rich to afford the Manor, though."
"Then how do you explain the noises that come from the Manor on a full
moon, huh? And besides, everyone knows that his family owned the Manor for
years; `s the only reason he´s still there."
"Maybe...maybe he has a pet?"
"Hey, yeah! Maybe it´s his dog that´s loose. What´d Tom say it looked
like again?"
"Big, black, and shaggy. Like I said, Tom thought it was a bear."
"Should we ask him?"
"What, talk to Loony Lupin?!"
"What´s the matter--cat got your tongue?"
"Wolf got your tongue?"
"No! It´s just...he´s kind of creepy."
A pause of silence. Then--
"Yesterday you said he was hot!"
"Well--well he is! But he´s creepy too. There´s this brooding, sombre
quality to him.... And when he looks at you and smiles, it´s like he´s
looking at somewhere else, someone else. It´s disturbing as all hell."
The teens continued to watch Lupin as he came closer, eyes assessing.
"How about we just talk really loud?"
"What for?"
"You know, so he can overhear. That way, if it is his dog--"
"--he´ll know and we won´t have to talk to him ourselves. Brilliant!"
"Hey, we all get lucky sometime."
Remus Lupin loved all seasons of the year, but summer was especially
his favourite. Everything was alive, pulsing, teeming with frenetic
energy. The world was bright and vivid, full of sounds and scents at their
peak. And it was warm--Remus´ thin frame liked the warmth of
summer.
It was just coming into July, but it felt more like late July or early
August. It was cloud-free and hot, and the humidity was high enough that
his hair was flat as a board.
He smiled slightly as he noticed the knot of teens up ahead. No doubt
they were out to enjoy the nice day the same way he was.
School must be out, he thought, surprised. Had it really be a
whole year now since he´d left Hogwarts? He spent so much time alone in
the Manor, and since...since the Incident he´d had no contact with anyone
until last year.
Time passes differently when you close yourself away, Moony.
The smile grew and Remus bowed his head. Ah, Padfoot. How is it
that you haunt me when I least expect it? Your continuous gems of wisdom...
You silly, odd, lovable man. He shook his head, pulling his
mind from woolgathering.
"--big dog."
"How big?"
"Well, Tim said it was black and shaggy. Maybe he´s one of those
wolfhounds or a cart dog."
"Wonder whose it is. No-one in town has a dog like that."
Remus heard the teens´ chattering, and though his interest was piqued
enough to look up at the mention of a big black dog, he didn´t stop his
walking.
One night. It was the first time in twelve years, and... Damn you,
Severus! Thanks to your pride and paranoia, I didn´t even get to say
`hullo´ let alone `good-bye.´ Wherever you´re hiding, Padfoot, try to keep
your head attached, hmmm?
Sighing, he clutched his pack straps just a little bit tighter and
bowed his head again, closing off his view of the world in the same way he
had closed himself off from the world for twelve years: by refusing to
acknowledge its existence.
One foot in front of the other, he continued to shuffle through town,
a man who retained rigid control of himself because he hadn´t been able to
control anything else.
"...Nothing. He didn´t even twitch."
"Yeah he did. He smiled!"
"But it wasn´t like he usually smiles. He actually looked...happy."
"I still say he´s loony. But..."
"But what?"
"But you´re right. He´s hot."
The wind rustled the leaves and pine boughs, sighing waves of green
that lapped the sky. A mocker bird was laughing off in the distance
somewhere--Remus felt sorry for its target, having been a victim of the
raucous laughter many a time. Up ahead on the path, a hare darted from
beneath a hedge, veering crazily up the cone-littered trail. It paused to
look back at him, eyes wide, breathing heavily before it took off
again.
He could see the brick and iron gate posts of the manor fence as he
rounded the corner. The stone guardians that sat atop them looked down at
him in sombre watchfulness, ears perked forward, tails wrapped at their
feet as they sat on their haunches.
"Hullo, Romulus. Hullo, Remus."
The muzzles of both statues briefly dipped in acknowledgment as Remus
passed between them, amber-gem eyes fixed ever forward. In the world where
it seemed Remus had no control over anything, it was nice to have
something that was always constant.
However, upon reaching the wrought-iron gate, Remus felt as if
something wasn´t quite right. The air about the manor felt different, felt
more...alive. He frowned, keying the spells on the gate and stepping
through. Romulus and Remus hadn´t indicated that there´d been people
snooping around. So, if there hadn´t been any strangers about, why did
things feel off?
Sherry eyes were watchful as he made his way through the thick garden
foliage to the front door. It wasn´t just an aura; there was a scent as
well--several scents. He paused beside a patch of foxglove, crouching down
to sniff the flowers. Yes, there it was again. It was a familiar smell,
but he couldn´t place it.
Sighing, he rose and brushed his knees off. Maybe I´m just being
paranoid--no, I am paranoid, but I´m probably imagining things this
time.
The scent lingered, however, and it grew stronger as he grew closer to
the Manor. And despite his thoughts that it was just paranoia and not a
real threat, his hand crept down to his waist, feeling for the wand hidden
in the voluminous folds.
He slowly rounded the high rose bushes, wand at the ready as his eyes
looked left and then right, then towards the stairs--
And he froze.
In a corner of his mind, Remus wondered if he hadn´t been alone a bit
too long. Because he had to be hallucinating--had to.
But...
The thick-layered fur was mud spattered, matted in spots with tree
sap. Needles clung to the ruff of his neck, spots of brown and green.
There was a red-and-brown spattered bandage tied about his right front
leg. He was sprawled out on the landing, muzzle resting on his unbending
leg, staring directly at Remus with unwavering, unusual pale blue eyes.
And pinned between leg and muzzle was a single slip of blue bell.
Remus´ numb fingers released his wand as his arm fell to his side,
shaking. The pack soon followed, hitting the tiled walk with a clatter as
he took a step forward.
Ice and sherry remained locked as Remus placed one foot in front of
the other, allowing shaky legs to take him up the steps. Upon reaching the
last one, he dropped to his knees, slowly reaching his hand out.
"Padfoot?" he whispered in disbelief.
The dog whined, raising his head to butt against Remus´ hand.
Blinking, Remus was surprised to find tears trembling in his lashes,
falling free to slide down his cheeks. Any other time, he would have
chastised himself for losing control, but not right now...not when he had
finally been allowed this moment. He ran both hands over the dog´s ears,
down the back of his head, through the thick fur at his ruff. Familiar...all
so familiar and so long missed!
Sitting up, the dog leaned forward, licking the tears from Remus´
cheeks, nuzzling his hair.
With a sound that was half laugh, half sob, Remus threw his arms
around the dog. He closed his eyes, cheek pressed against the dog´s neck.
"Hullo, Sirius."
The form in his arms shifted, the fur beneath his cheek becoming long,
slightly tangled hair. Thin but iron-strong arms rose to wrap around his
ribs, drawing him securely against the thin chest where Remus could feel
the heart that echoed his own.
Sirius Black smiled into his friend´s sunshine-scented hair. "Hullo,
Remus."
And, for a while, nothing more needed to be said.
Sirius watched from the comfortable (yet extremely ugly) monstrosity of
a chair Remus had sat him in as Remus went to argue with his
teapot.
"I asked you to heat the water, not whistle Bon Odori music! Damn
grandfather and his weird antiques...."
"You´ve been saying that for how many years, Moony?" Sirius asked with
a laugh.
"Too many," grumbled Remus. "Be a good teapot or I´ll let the tanuki
play with you the next time she comes to visit."
The teapot immediately ceased playing music and began to emit a thin
curl of steam.
Remus smiled and patted the teapot. "Good teapot."
Leaving the china to its task, he grabbed a tray with a bowl of water,
a washrag, and clean bandages, heading towards Sirius.
Sirius leered as Remus knelt beside him. "My own personal nurse--I´m
moving up in the world. And kneeling at my feet too! You know, usually
it´s women doing that, Moony."
"Yes, Padfoot." With nimble, practised fingers, Remus undid the crude
bandage about Sirius´ forearm. He wet the washrag down, wiping the skin
around the bandage and then wetting the bandage itself so that it would be
easier to remove and hopefully wouldn´t tear off the scab beneath.
"Look, I even rate a sponge bath!"
"Yes, Padfoot." Slowly he unwound the bandage, frowning at the mottled
blue and black flesh and deep, ragged gash beneath. "What did you mess
with?" he muttered, gently prodding the wound. It was a little warm
beneath his fingers, sticky with blood serum that oozed between the cracks
of the new and patchy scab.
Sirius winced despite the tenderness of Remus´ touch. "I´m not really
sure. It was dark and there wasn´t a moon out. I shifted long enough to
wrap it and then I was on the move again."
If there hadn´t been a moon then it was about two days old. Well,
Remus might as well get it cleaned up and see how bad it really was.
One hand lay atop Sirius´ arm while he gently swiped the wound with
the wet rag, peeling away dirt and grime.
"So what´s the prognosis? Are we going to have to amputate, Nurse
Moony?"
Remus´ lips twitched as his hands continued to work. "No, Padfoot."
Sirius snapped his fingers. "Damn! There goes the automatic sympathy
from beautiful women."
The wound wasn´t as deep as Remus had originally thought. But it was
red about the edges, and there were a few thin striation marks leading
from the wound. Damn--possible blood poisoning. "Too bad neither of
us took Advanced Healing," Remus said lightly, trying to keep his worries
to himself.
"Professor Nettles was a boring old fart. I´m surprised I made it
through Basic Healing with passing marks; all I ever did was sleep in that
class."
"Or cause trouble."
"Who, me?" asked Sirius innocently. "Just because of that time I tried
to set Snape´s hair on fire..."
"And what about the time you turned Avery´s hair green, hmmm? Or the
time you "accidentally" slipped houndstongue into my restorative draught?
I couldn´t sit still all day--or stop laughing."
Sirius grinned unrepentantly. "I had to keep up appearances--you know,
the Great Rivalry and all. You understand of course, right Moony?"
"...Yes, Padfoot."
"And I found a way for you to stop laughing later, didn´t I?"
"...Yes, Padfoot."
Remus rose and went back to the kitchen. He rummaged through a few
packages on the countertop, finally finding the one he needed. He emptied
a handful of dried herbs onto some cheesecloth and tied it in a tight
bundle. He then put it in a cup and slowly poured the hot water over it
until it was completely wet.
"I´ll leave this on until tonight," he said, setting the cup down to
cool. "Then I´ll check it again and change the bandage."
"Perfect Nurse Moony."
Remus bit his tongue on a retort, instead checking the temperature of
the poultice. He pulled it from the cup, and, kneeling back at Sirius´
side, set it atop the wound, carefully arranging it so it covered the
whole thing. He then began to wrap it snug enough so that Sirius would be
able to use the arm without hindrance.
He bowed his head as he put everything back on the tray. Fingers at
his temple startled him and he stiffened. But all they did was gently comb
through the hair that had escaped confinement, a soothing, repetitive
motion.
"You´ve changed."
Remus smiled sadly, and he couldn´t keep the hint of bitterness from
his voice. "We´ve both changed. We weren´t given much choice in the
matter." He pulled back abruptly, grabbing up the tray and striding away.
Sirius watched his jerky movements in understanding, sharing the
silent pain. Remus had never been very good at emotions; Sirius had become
an expert, years ago, at reading him despite that fact.
"Hey, Moony, wanna do the world a favour?"
He waited until Remus´ head tipped slightly to the left; then he knew
he had his friend´s attention.
"Give me a haircut?"
They went out into the garden, Sirius carrying a mirror, Remus comb and
scissors. Sirius sat in the grass while Remus knelt behind him.
The only sound as Remus began to work through the snarls and tangles
was the wind as it rustled through foliage, the birds as they chirped
their noontime songs, and the comb slowly sliding through hair.
It took nearly a half hour, but Remus finally got the mass to lie
flat. It was longer than waist-length, the ends brushing the ground as
Sirius sat. He pulled the hair back, looking critically at the ends, which
were dry and split. "How much do you want cut off?"
"However much needs to come off."
"Probably about eight inches or so."
"You´re the one with the scissors, Moony."
"...Yes, Padfoot."
The scissors snipped slowly across the long mass. Every few cuts Remus
would stop and comb through it again to catch any stray hairs he´d missed.
Eventually he´d made his way from right to left, and everything appeared
to be even. Silently he stood and moved to Sirius´ front, re-combing the
hair over his shoulders. He trimmed the ragged bangs, tiering the hair
around Sirius´ face.
"Okay, you can stand up."
Sirius got to his feet, brushing the cut hair from his robes with a
sigh. He then ran his hands through his tangle-free hair, smiling.
Glancing down, he asked, "How do I look?"
He never once bothered to look at the mirror in his hand.
Remus looked up, eyes sweeping over Sirius´ features. Pale,
unblemished skin, high and angular cheekbones that were the envy of
everyone, to-die-for pouty lips flushed with a hint of colour, ice-blue
eyes framed by thick sooty lash, long thin wisps of black dripping into
those eyes, framing his angular jaw. The Rake of Gryffindor, he´d been
called in his heyday, though he´d never done much to earn that reputation.
True, he´d flirted with everything and everyone, but he´d never been
promiscuous despite the rumours the Slytherins had tried to start. Remus
had found it odd how he could have had anyone he wanted, but he´d been
more interested in school and mischief and friendship... Remus shook his
head as he looked down at his hands with a small smile. "You look as
devastating as ever."
"Coming from the pretty Nurse Moony, high praise indeed!"
Colour touched Remus´ cheeks. "Shut up, Padfoot. I am not
pretty." I´m an old and worn man six months your junior who looks
sixteen years your senior. Your imprisonment aged me more than it aged
you, my friend.
"Remus..."
Hands cupped his cheeks, slowly drawing his face up. Sirius was
smiling as he pulled loose the ribbon holding Remus´ hair back, running
his fingers through the tawny and silver strands. "You will always be
pretty, my Remus."
"You´re biased."
"Maybe." Sirius shrugged. "It´s good to be with you again."
Remus placed his hands over Sirius´, closing his eyes. "Yes--yes, it
is."
He suddenly felt bone-achingly, soul-achingly tired in that instant;
his body and nerves trembled with the sensation.
Sirius drew Remus down in the grass, pillowing Remus´ head in his lap.
"It´s all right now, my Remus," he murmured, petting Remus hair, gliding
over his shoulders. "You don´t have to be brave anymore, you don´t have to
worry anymore. I´m here now."
Thin arms wound about Sirius´ waist. "Promise?"
Sirius´ kissed the top of Remus´ head, a sad smile appearing at the
childlike question asked on the verge of sleep. "Till I die, my Remus.
Till I die."
It was just past moonrise when he woke.
Fingers trailed languidly through his hair, over his cheek, a
repetitive motion that was soothing at the same time it was affectionate.
"I can´t believe you didn´t wake me," Remus murmured between stifled
yawns.
"There wasn´t any need to."
He rolled over onto his back, looking up into Sirius´ face. "But
haven´t your legs gone to sleep?"
Sirius smiled. "Yeah, but they went numb soon after, so I figured it
wasn´t a big deal."
Remus wrinkled his nose. "You´re an idiot."
"So I´ve been told."
Carefully sitting up, Remus stretched his arms over his head, another
yawn slipping free. "I can´t remember the last time I fell asleep out in
the garden," he said, turning his head.
Sirius had risen to his feet and his arms were crossed over his
abdomen, face tilted towards the waxing sliver of moon. "I can´t remember
the last time you fell asleep in my arms." He was haloed in the faint
light--to Remus´ eyes, a study in etched, pale perfection.
However, his words made the blood drain from Remus´ face, and he
turned quickly away to look down at his hands.
Sirius pulled his gaze away from the moon, frowning when he saw that
Remus was huddled in upon himself. "Oh, Moony..." Slowly he sank to his
knees, arms sliding around Remus´ shoulders and pulling the slightly
shorter man into an embrace.
"I´d always counted on your constancy," said Remus after a moment,
raising a hand to place it over Sirius´. "Yours and James´ and Peter´s...
And in that last year before James and Lily´s deaths, there were so many
things going wrong between us, so many harsh words, so many situations
misconstrued...so many things not said."
"You´re not the only one who´s scared though, Remus." Sirius´ words
were soft, a warm whisper of breath across the back of Remus´ ear.
"Knowing what´s gone on...what´s going one...where things are heading... After
twelve years in Azkaban, finally having this freedom is frightening. And
knowing that it could be taken away from me at any moment--that everything
I hold dear could be taken away from me at any moment--is enough to make me
want to run away and hide.
"But I can´t do that. Because there are so few people left in my life
that I care for, so few people I have left to protect...so few people that I
have left to love."
A sob broke free, startling in the quiet night. Sirius´ arms tightened
as the slight body in his embrace shuddered, hot tears spilling over his
hands. Had it been anyone else, Sirius would have chastised them for so
little control of their emotions. But it was Remus, and having known the
man as long as he had, he knew better.
He´d only seen Remus cry twice before in all the time he´d known him,
after all.
The hand clutched tighter, nails digging into his flesh. "Promise me..."
"Yes?"
"Promise me that, no matter what..."
He could tell that the usually articulate Remus was struggling for
words.
"That even though you might come and go, that you might change, you´ll
always be there?"
"That´s not constancy, Remus."
"Yes it is." Remus pulled away, scrubbing fiercely at his eyes with a
scowl as he turned. He hated losing control. "It´s like the moon, Sirius;
it´s the greatest display of constancy in the fact that it´s always there,
no matter what phase it´s in. It always comes back."
"I can´t be like the moon, Moony," said Sirius, trying to lighten the
mood with a laugh. He reached over, catching a last, traitorous tear on
his fingertips. "That´s your name."
"Fine." Pursing his lips in thought, Remus said, "Then if I´m the
moon, you´ll have to be the earth."
"So I´m the centre of your universe?" Sirius was grinning now,
expression sly.
"...Yes, Padfoot."
"Good. Then if you´re the moon and I´m the earth, we´re obviously not
going anywhere any time soon."
Remus began to smile in return. "Right."
"Except to bed!" With a cackle, Sirius darted forward and scooped
Remus up in his arms, dashing for the house.
Remus laughed, playfully kicking his legs. "Put me down, you lout! I´m
too heavy for you."
"Never!"
And then they were home, the two of them together again, at last. And
there was a warm bed, a welcoming bed for once, one for two people who
shared a bond of laughter, friendship, and love. And there were clothes on
the floor and skin bared to the night, limbs entwined, skin relearned, and
lips melded in sacrosanct union.
Later, fingers trailing through the long black hair that spilled over
his chest as Sirius slept, Remus smiled as he looked out the window.
And I will be the moon to your earth, forever. Moon...Moony...la Luna.
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