The Purrfectly Giftastic Christmas Blog Hop is in full swing, hope you're enjoying it! Today I'm going to start something I'm calling Fanfiction Sunday! A lot of writers got their start with writing fanfiction, and to many it's something very near and dear. I've written a lot myself, particularly in the Harry Potter fandom. So I'm going to share some of them with you. You can also find my work at Fanfiction. net and Adultfanfiction.net. I hope you enjoy these, and I'd love to hear from you, what you think, and even what you'd like to see. I don't know all fandoms, of course, and don't do all pairings, but you never know, right? I'm going to start with my favorite couple, Remus and Sirius. Enjoy! I hope to work on a logo this week for next Sunday! For right now, I'll just use a beautiful pic I found of my young pups.
This tale takes place during the Marauder era, when Remus and Sirius are still students at Hogwarts. Sirius has fucked up - siriusly. Can he get Remus to forgive him?
AUTHOR: Lady Sirius
DISCLAIMER: Of course all rights to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling
I would claim Sirius if I could (but alas this is not meant to be!)
DEDICATION: To my glorious, talented, wondrous and everlastingly sexy
inspiration - Gary Oldman.
Remus is mad at me, very very very mad. No, mad isn't the right word at all, he's beyond mad, he's beyond angry, past simple rage. I don't know how to describe it other than he isn't speaking to me, and he is hurt, unbearably hurt, and it's all my fault, because sometimes I have the capacity to be a right stupid bugger. I don't mean to be, of course, and I would never intentionally do anything to hurt Remy - for he is my life, my heart, my soul. But that doesn't mean that it doesn't happen, or that I can't and don't hurt him, cause apparently I do. And I would give everything I possess to have him talk to me once more, to have him look at me even, acknowledge my presence in some way, much less allow me to share his bed once more.
The nights are the worst. Lying alone in my bed - so temptingly close to Remy's and yet so very far away because we should be sharing his and we're not - we're apart, for the first time since we began to sleep together, last year, our fifth year - when we joined together and became one flesh, one spirit, one mind. Now we are torn asunder and it's killing me. No touching, no words, nothing... Gods, it hurts so much I can't bear it, but what else can I do? Remy, I need you so badly, but you won't even look at me...
It all started last year, with a stupid little prank. A joke. Nothing to get worked up about, a simple jape. A moment of boredom, if you will - and yes, I'll admit it, it was my boredom which began it - which led to James having a little fun at Snivellus' expense. Which earned him Lily's wrath. And Remus wasn't particularly happy with either of us, I think, but he kept it in, didn't say anything to us, just beat himself up with it, because although he didn't join in, neither did he try to stop us. Maybe if he'd said something then... But no, I don't mean to blame him, and thinking that way serves no useful purpose at all.
Personally I blame Snape - for being an obnoxious nasty git whom nobody in their right mind would have anything to do with - which is proven by the fact that he has no friends, lovers, or even simple acquaintances - he is the ultimate loner. He may be intelligent - and I would never repeat that to a living soul, much less Mr. Greasy himself - but he has no people skills whatsoever. I think that he is jealous of me, but why - the looks that I get from him are so dark and brooding - what does he want that I have? I know it's not money, his family has that, and besides I don't any more, ever since I was officially disowned as a Black last summer. There's only one thing I can think of and so help me, if he tries to lay a finger on my wolf, I'll kill him...
There I go again, that's what got me into trouble, I need to quit it, quit it now, or I'll never get Remus back, and that's an idea that I can't live with...
Ever since the beginning of our sixth year, I'd felt his eyes on me, glaring at me, at all of us - me, Remy, James and Peter. Nothing overt, he wasn't brave enough for that. But he began to make his appearance in the strangest places where normally you wouldn't expect to find him - you'd never know when you turned around, would he be there, watching and waiting and seemingly biding his time. As if there was something he wanted from us, or wanted to know about us. It's the latter idea that got me worried. What if he discovered Remy's secret, what would he do with the knowledge? Hold it over his head? Threaten him? Or worse, let it out, so that my poor love's life would be even more miserable than it was. I couldn't bear the idea, not at all.
So I decided to do something to him first.
Okay, maybe that wasn't the brightest idea I ever had. But my motives were pure - I did it for Remus, all for him. I'd do anything for him. Anything. If he asked me to, I'd kill for him. And I almost did, using the wolf as my weapon. In retrospect, this was perhaps not a very good idea. I know that now, but I can't undo what's been done, or I surely would, Remy, I surely would. Dammit, will you please look at me? Each day I die a little more...
I knew that deep inside Snape was a coward, so I decided to teach him a good lesson - let him see what he seemed to want to see so badly, and frighten him in the process so that he'd never say a word to anyone about it. But I couldn't just come out and say it. I had to be more subtle than that.
So I wrote myself a note, as if it was from Remus. Telling me not to meet in our usual place but at the Whomping Willow. With a simple reminder about finding a nice long stick to press the knot with. Snape would have no way of knowing that was where we always went. I think I did a fairly good imitation of Remy's handwriting - nicely formed, and meticulate - and his signature is very nice and loopy. I pulled it out when I knew he was around, but not having shown that I was aware of his presence, read it, smiling to myself. Then I hastily shoved it in my pocket. From which precarious position it fell, while I went "obliviously" along my way, knowing full well he would pick it up. And read it. Which he must have.
And that night I knew that he was watching us - watching and waiting. I told Remus to go on ahead of me, I'd be right there, so he did, little suspecting my errant duplicity, nor my perfidious treachery. I hid myself nearby, seeing but unseen. Watched the slimy Slytherin approach the tree, gain admittance, wearing a self-satisfied smirk that I think he bought in a second hand shop. Stood there, grinning like a prize idiot, thinking of the surprise that would appear on Snape's face when he saw the werewolf. Ah, sweet, sweet revenge. And then before I knew what I was about, James came upon me. I had told James not to come right away tonight, and he must have been suspicious of me, for there he was. And apparently he had seen Snape's entry. "Sirius, what have you done?" he cried in horror, as he made his way into the Willow. And as full realization of what I had indeed done sunk into me, I couldn't bear to wait for the aftermath, and I slunk back to the dorm, and laid awake, horrified at myself, and my actions.
From what James told me afterwards, apparently Snape only caught a glimpse of Remus in his wolf form, but that was enough for him to derive an understanding of the situation, and he was more than a little petrified until James caught him up and forcibly ejected him from the tree, at great risk to himself I might add, as he was still in human form at that point, and the wolf does not differentiate between friend and foe, just animal and human. And human is the enemy, of course.
All night I tossed and turned in our solitary bed - Remus' solitary bed, as I had no wish to occupy my own, and at least if I lay in his, I could still smell the lingering scent of him faintly warm upon the sheets - that spicy, musky, chocolatey fragrance that would forever spell Remus Lupin to me. Remembering the night before, and just how we lay there together, whispered together into the night, when even then I had already set into motion the self-destructive course of action which might spell the very death knell of our relationship - the very Guy Fawkesian treachery which even now I wish that I could undo, even as I ask myself, what the hell were you really thinking? Merlin, I wish I knew.
The next morning, as soon as I rose - not that I could say when I awoke, for there was no sleeping done that night - I hastened to the hospital wing, to find James on his way out. He grabbed my arm, attempting to prevent my entry. "Don't go in there, Sirius," he said.
"Don't go in? Why not? Remy's in there, isn't he?"
"Yes, and I don't think he wants to see you right now." James' eyes bored directly into mine, but not unsympathetically.
I blanched at his words, but I refused to be dissuaded. "Of course I have to see him, I have to explain..."
"Sirius, I don't think you can explain this one." He laid his hand on my arm, tried to walk me away, but I snatched it back, snarled at him.
"I'm going in," I said simply, as I left him there and entered the infirmary.
Remus was in his usual place, the same bed he normally occupied after each full moon, and I could see as I approached him that he was very awake. He looked so very pale, even against the hospital white sheets, lethargic even. He must have been aware of my presence, how could he not be, with his heightened senses, yet he made no move to turn toward me. "Remy," I began, as soon as I came within earshot.
He shook his head, wouldn't look at me. "Go away, Sirius, " he said.
"Remy, let me explain..." I tried.
He only rolled over, buried his face in his pillow, didn't say another word.
And hasn't yet. Even now. Not one single word in all this time.
Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck.
I have never been so frightened in my entire life.
I can't stand it, I can't fucking stand it any more... I glance at my beloved wolf, fast asleep, alone, in what was our bed, now his again. The tears are close, perilously close...threatening to burst from my chest in great convulsions if I don't get the fuck out of here now.
I stifle everything I am feeling and I quickly throw on a pair of pants, toss on my robes, and then I simply leave the dormitory. No shoes, no shirt, who gives a fuck? For good measure I grab James' invisibility cloak first - I know just where the git keeps it. I don't wish to be caught out at this time of night, I'm in no mood to be serving detention.
I escape the confines of the castle, unseen, although I am almost caught by that obnoxious Filch and his felonious feline while crossing the Great Hall. Once out the main doors, I make my way to the quidditch field - where I always go when I am upset, to the top of the Gryffindor stands, and the place where I first told Remy I loved him . And where I tried to run away right after I told him. Luckily he was faster than I was, and he forced me to stay. And talk to him.
All I want to do is talk to him again. Tell him how very sorry I am. How stupid I was. How imbecilic. I want to tell him that I love him, and that I would never deliberately hurt him for the world. Beg his forgiveness. Get down on my hands and knees to him. Whatever it takes.
Thinking of Remus, and aching for him, is the last straw. I double over, my head on my legs, a pain in my gut that refuses to go away, sobbing wholeheartedly now, not even bothering with a silencing charm, for none are near to hear my pain, as I cry as I've never cried before, keening for my lost love...
...when suddenly I feel a hand on my arm, and I jump. Glance up through the veil of tears which clouds my vision. My eyes bedevil me for they give me the illusion that it is Remus I am seeing, Remus who is standing before me, now taking his place beside me. But that cannot be, for he wants nothing to do with me. He hates me, I know it.
My heart jumps as I hear his voice - yes, it's him, it's really him - and I blink to clear the tears from my sight. "Remy?" I whisper in a shaky voice.
"Yes, it's me..." and those three words are all it takes to send me over the edge, as I hear myself, as if from a great distance, howling out his name, and then somehow I am being held within his embrace, the words tumbling from my lips in a great unintelligible torrent, "Remyiloveyouimsorryimsorryforgivemeiloveyouiloveyouiloveyou..." until I run out of breath and can only whimper against his breast.
"Sshhhh, sshhhhh, Siri, don't cry," he soothes me, his arms are holding me, his fingers stroking my hair, his lips kissing away the tears which litter my cheeks, as I sob myself out, until I can cry no more, and I can only breathe through my mouth now cause my nose is completely stopped up from tears, and I can only whimper softly...
"Remy, I didn't mean to... I didn't think...I would never..." I cry out brokenly. I can't describe how I feel at this moment, back in his arms, feeling him, hearing him, having him there - like finding myself after having been lost, like feeling complete where I was only half myself before...
"I know, Siri, I know," he whispers soothingly as he continues to minister to me. "I was hurt at first, and angry, but I'm calmer now, and I realize you didn't mean to hurt me."
"No, never, Remy, never," I swear to him, I affirm to him, my voice pledging my eternal undying love for him. "Remy, I love you, I've missed you so much, I was sure you'd never speak to me again, it's been an eternity, sleeping without you..."
And then his lips are on mine, stemming this choked confession, stilling my protestations... and after all, how better can I tell him that I love him than by showing him with my lips? Which I do, clinging to him eagerly, deepening the kiss, until my entire being is filled with him once more, and nothing else exists in this universe other than he and I. And we are together once more.
He breaks the kiss at last, licks the last of my salty tears from my cheeks, straightens out my disheveled robes. "Sirius!" he clucks, "you're barefoot!"
"It doesn't matter," I reply hastily.
He starts to do a more thorough inventory. "And you're only half-dressed!" he says in disapproval. "It's too cold out here for that, let's get you back to the dorm."
I let him fuss over me, wrapping his cloak around me for warmth, we huddle together in it. "It's into the shower for you when we get back, and straight to bed," he dictates as we walk down the stepped bleachers in tandem.
"Remy, will you come to my bed?" I ask softly, hopefully.
"No..." is his immediate reply, but before I can protest, he adds, "You'll come to mine, of course. Who's the alpha here, Sirius?" And I hear the deep love behind his words, and I am happy once more, as we make our way back to the castle, to our bed, together.
And all is right with the world again...