In the Madness and Soil of That Sad Earthly Scene
The sunlight gleamed onto the flowing river in front of them as Remus stretched across the quilt he brought. Sirius was sat across from him, his back straightened and his chin held high as they gazed over the notes Remus wrote during their last meeting. Remus can feel Sirius’s breath misting down his neck every time he leans over to examine Remus’s writing. He hates it, and he wonders if Sirius hates it too.
He probably does.
Remus doesn’t tell him to move.
They haven’t spoken of Sirius’s disintegration in the church bathroom, but maybe it’s for the better. Sirius’s disposition has resorted to its normal, condescending attitude, and Remus can’t tell if that too is for the better.
“We should finish up soon,” Sirius declares, “The sun is setting,”
“And?” Remus asks, glancing toward the darkening sky. “We’ve only been here for an hour,”
“I must always be home before dark,” Sirius said.
Remus nodded, clicking his pen, “But we need to finish with the notes today. I want to start writing the rough draft on Monday,”
“Yes, but I want to go home,”
“And I want to get into a good university,” Remus replies. “Can’t we go back to your house?”
“Unless you want to join my family and me for dinner, then I recommend you retreat to your own home,” Sirius said.
“And we can finish the notes after dinner?” Remus asked, and Sirus nodded. “Brilliant!”
Remus stood from his position on the ground, reaching for his bag. Sirius shook his head, following after the brunette boy. “I was joking! I don’t want to eat dinner with you,”
“Neither do I,” Remus chuckled, “But again, I want to get into a good University. We are finishing the notes. Tonight,”
Sirius let out a dreadful groan, “You’ll regret this, Lupin,”
゜✧*̣̩☽⋆゜
Remus did in fact, regret his decision as soon as he walked into the Black home. The presence of Walburga and Orion Black somehow made the emptiness of the home expand with their emotionless motions and attitude. Regulus was in the corner of the sitting room, his fingers strumming the strings of his violin, and his head shaking violently along with the lyrical beat. The darkness of the house sent a chilling sensation down Remus’s body, and he clutched onto his sweater.
Sirius tilted his head, looking toward his mother who was sitting on the sofa. The woman’s hair was slicked back into her usual tight bun, and she was wearing a long, black, dress. She had a teacup raised to her lips, as she stared blankly at the wall. The sight was harrowing.
Remus scanned the room for the darkening figure of Orion Black, but he was not in his vision. He thought back on Sirius’s words, on how his father is usually in his study or at the church.
Sirius cleared his throat, and his mother’s head slowly turned. “Mother,”
“Sirius,” She replied, then her eyes widened once she noticed Remus. “You didn’t tell me you were having a guest over,”
“Remus will stay for dinner and then we’ll work on the report together,” Sirius said, and Remus noticed a slight quiver in his voice. “We didn’t get much done at the park, the sun was too bright,”
That was an utter lie. The sun was melting in the abyss by the time they had arrived, but between the two boy’s endless bickering and Sirius’s snobby attitude, they didn’t get very far.
“Very well,” The woman replied, “Kreacher is almost finished with dinner. It’s caviar and roasted potatoes, I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Lupin.”
“No, not at all,” Remus shook his head.
“Well, he could hurry up,” Sirius huffed. “I’m starving.”
Walburga Black shared an odd expression with Sirius. “You could always pour your hunger out into the piano like your brother does the violin. I don’t see you putting in half the effort he does,”
The words came out in a merry tone, the woman ending her final sentence with an arid chuckle. Remus ineptly laughed, as the woman’s vision burned directly onto Sirius’s skin. The air inside of the darkened room felt so gauche, Remus wished it were just he and Sirius, because at least then he didn’t need to deal with the artificiality of Walburga Black.
“Fine,” Sirius panted, “Let’s go, Lupin. I’ll show you my untasteful piano skills!”
Sirius trampled over to the piano lying in the middle of a room, the black mahogany wood gleaming off of the setting sun. His cross necklace was resting on the side of his neck, most likely because of the number of times he shook his head every time Remus spoke.
“Well don’t just stand there like a scathing fool, sit,” He motioned toward the bench. “C’mon Lupin, we don’t have all night,”
Remus reluctantly slid beside Sirius, placing his messenger bag on the ground. The boy chuckled, fucking around with the keys. “What should I play then? Chopin? Rubinstein?”
“Claude Debussy,” Remus said, “My mother loves him,”
“She has excellent taste then,” Sirius smiled, and the smile was as if he’d never expressed his hatred for Remus. It was as if he genuinely did appreciate Remus’s presence. Sirius Black, a conundrum, but that was nothing new.
He flipped through the sheet music, licking his finger, and sighing every time he was met with a sheet of paper that wasn’t a Debussy composition.
“Clair de lune,” Sirius said, “I’ve got Clair de lune, is that alright?”
“That’s brilliant,”
And then Sirius’s fingers met the piano keys and Remus fell into the lyrical whir of Sirius’s musical capability. As he listened, Remus realized that Walburga Black did not know her son. Because, as Sirius’s fingers danced along the keys of the piano, Remus could taste the starvation Sirius felt. The woman had said Sirius didn’t pour his hunger into his music, But Remus believed he was wrong. Sirius didn’t just pour his hunger into the piano, but his soul and emotions as well. His talent was draining both of their souls and pulling into the notes of Debussy’s composition.
Remus gazed down at Sirius’s fingers as they rapidly pressed down on the keys, sweat dripping from his forehead as the strained fingers quickened their pace. His face felt white, completely drawn into the euphony. He felt like he had vanished, and ascended with the music as Sirius’s passion increased.
The craving Remus felt to absorb each and every lyrical mark Sirus left, abandoned Remus in a state of confusion. He’d always had a liking for Sirius’s piano skills (a secret he’d never admit), but he had never listened to it in such a state of solitude. The spark of seclusion lit Remus’s heart on fire, he felt it burning within him, the art spreading in his veins.
The music slowly faded, and Remus noticed the ringing in his ears diminish. Sirius’s fingers lifted themselves from the piano, his breath letting out sharp and deep breaks of air, as he slumped into the bench. Remus stared in wonder.
“Black, you’re– that was…” He trailed off, searching for the right word.
“Astounding, I know,” Sirius winked.
Remus parted his lips to reply, but Regulus’s voice filled the gutting silence.
“Sirius,” He said, looking down at his brother’s disheveled frame. “Dinner,”
Sirius sighed, running his hands over his face, turning away. “This will be the most peculiar night of your life, Lupin,”
Remus didn’t reply and followed Sirius into the dining room. The room was kept dazzling by the candlelight chandelier hanging above the long stretched dinner table. Out the window, Remus had noticed the moon had now risen, and he silently prayed his seat wouldn’t be facing the window. Pastor Orion sat at the end of the table, a glass of wine resting in his grasp, while his wife was sitting on the opposite side. Remus didn’t fail to notice the lingering invisible string of discomfort hanging between them.
Sirius pulled out the chair facing the window as Regulus sat down across from his brother. Remus quickly sat himself down in the lone chair beside Sirius, immediately reverting his vision to the table.
“Mr. Lupin,” Pastor Orion greeted, the glass now raised to his lips. “How lovely is it for you to join us this evening,”
His tone came out bitter and condescending, and Remus attempted to ignore it, facing the man. “It’s a lovely night, I’m happy to spend it with you and your family, Pastor,”
Sirius snorted beside him, but gradually pacified once he noticed his mother’s dawdling glare. Just as the room retrogressed to its silence, a small man with wispy grey hair entered the room with two plates in his hand. He placed one in front of Pastor Orion, murmuring the word ‘Master\’ as a greeting which Remus found both dehumanizing and abnormal. The next place was settled before Remus, the man’s lips quaking as he delivered the dish. Remus thought he was far too old to be doing this, his body shaking with every movement, even when he walked half a step.
Once all of their dinners had arrived, and Pastor Orion led them in prayer, the man left, and Remus found himself becoming absolutely entrapped in the kinship of the Black family. He wondered if every night was the same, or if it differed due to Remus’s visitation. The comportment being displayed before him was different from Remus’s nights of laughter and story-telling. This night however was a suffering pit of agony and Remus wanted to sink into his chair. The silence was so apparent Remus could hear every scrape of a plate and every chew.
“How is the report coming along?” Pastor Orion asked once he had swallowed a bite of his potatoes.
“It’s going along just fine,” Remus replied. “Dwynwen has a fascinating backstory, I’m shocked she’s rarely spoken of among other saints,”
“It sincerely is a depressing matter,” The man sighed. “I chose her to represent our church because she’s the role model everyone in our faith should look toward, isn’t that right?”
“Yes, father,” Remus nodded. “It’s a shame,”
“A damn one,” The man replied, raising his glass, and Remus didn’t fail to notice how Regulus and Sirius barely moved an inch during the entirety of the conversation.
The man continued. “I hear you want to study literature, Mr. Lupin, that’s why my wife chose you to represent our parish,”
Remus nodded. “Yes, I’ve had a passion for writing for years, and have decided it’s absolutely what I want to pursue,”
“And what it is about writing and literature that…” The man waves his hand in the air, the wine clearly streaming through his brains, “Entraps you,”
“Everything sir,” Remus replied simply, “Everything,”
It seemed like a better answer than to delve into the truth of how his fondness of literature altered every aspect of his life. He didn’t think Orion Black was worthy enough to know Remus because he knew that the man thought the exact same of Remus.
When dinner finally ended Sirius had practically leaped from his chair and pulled Remus up the stairs to the library. Remus allowed Sirius to pull him, glad that he had finally escaped the depths of the Black family’s dining room. It is there in that library when Sirius finally mentions that day in the church basement.
“I’ve never screamed so hoarsely before,” Sirius said in their silence as Remus looked over their notes. “Never like that,”
“What?” Remus can’t help but look up from his notebook.
“I’ve screamed several times in my life, but I’ve never screamed at someone like how I screamed at you on Sunday,” Sirius annunciates, “Isn’t that odd? Why is Remus Lupin the man I’ve screamed the loudest at?”
Remus sighs, “Black, that is something that you’ll just have to answer yourself,”
Sirius nods, but instead of replying he places his cross necklace between his teeth.
“Get back to me when you do, though,” Remus adds, “I’d love to know whatever the bloody fuck your meltdown was about,”
Sirius doesn’t reply and Remus steadies himself for the upcoming night of ineptitude.
゜✧*̣̩☽⋆゜
Remus finds the third letter, once again, in his messenger bag (neatly folded this time around). He’s with Peter, James, and Frank and locks himself in Frank’s bathroom once he finds it buried at the bottom of the leather satchel.
Dear Lupin,
If only you knew the true profundity of myself, then maybe, you would understand. Maybe you would understand why I screamed at you in the church basement, maybe you would know why I despise the label of egotistic. But you don’t know, and I won’t tell you. Why don’t you find out yourself, you colossal fucking prick.
"Il n'y a pas de verités moyennes." - Georges Bernanos
Sirus O. Black
Remus flushes it down the toilet and tries to ignore it.
He can not ignore it because the third letter soon becomes a paramount piece of every running thought he consumes.
When he is overgoing a newly written piece with McGonagall, he thinks of the letter. When he is eating dinner every single night, his parents sitting across from him, he thinks of the letter. When he is trying to focus on his maths lesson, he thinks of the letter. When he is dancing in the sunlight with Mary and Marlene, he thinks of the letter. When he is up late at night, his eyes a bright shade of red, he thinks of the letter. When he is trying to distract Mr. and Mrs. Potter as James and Lily have sex in the back of his truck, two streets away, he thinks of the letter. When he stares at Sirius from across the church, he thinks of the letter.
He hates himself so much for it, yet he still has a yearning urge to discover the truth. He wants to know why Sirius is such an oddity, and it kills him because, for every desire he has to learn more about the boy, he wants to burn all of the evidence he’s ever known of the boy. It’s a delicate subject.
And he finds himself not telling a soul, not even the air of his bedroom late at night. His parents will think he’s finally reached the brink of insanity, and his friends will tease him harder than when they discovered his abhor for the moon. So he lets the thoughts swallow him until it feels as if he’s trapped at the bottom of a pool filled with his own notions.
It distracts him, pulling him away from reality as he drifts into a world filled with the third letter. He has no idea how far he’s gone until someone is pulling him back in.
“Remus, Pete’s just taken his willy out!” James shouts, and Remus shakes his head, pulling away from his brain, once again.
“What?” He asks and turns to Peter who is innocently chatting with Mary in the corner of Alice’s bedroom.
“Not funny, James,” Peter replies, his hand lightly ghosting over Mary’s shoulder.
“Oh, they’re totally going to shag,” Frank whispers in the vicinity of Remus and James.
“Totally,” James replies. “I didn’t believe it at first, but it’s as clear as day now!”
“I bet they do it at the Halloween party tomorrow night,” Frank grins, “What about you, Potter?”
“One hundred percent,” James replies, looking toward Remus, “Moony?”
“Don’t call me that,” Remus says, and he’s said the phrase so many times it sounds like one word together. “And I think Mary has a bit of self-respect, she wouldn’t give herself up that easily…”
“But they’ve been friends for years!” Frank exclaims, “You’re just jealous you’ll be that last single friend remaining,”
“We’ve got to set him up!” James sits up, “I heard Lily’s friend Amelia is coming tomorrow night! Oh, this is perfect…”
Remus sends a signal for help over to Marlene, Lily, and Alice, his widening, but the girls are too caught up in discussing Alice’s record collection. “I don’t know…”
“Oh, c’mon!” Frank exclaims, “You’ve been so stressed ever since you had to write that bloody essay with Black, wouldn’t a nice orgasm… loosen you up? What’s the harm in an easy shag?”
In truth, Remus thinks an easy shag would be the perfect remedy, but he’s terrified he’ll think of Sirius Black the entire time. He’s scared that as he runs his tongue along the neck of a girl he’s barely spoken to, he’ll wonder if Sirius has ever kissed someone. The consumption of Sirius Black has ruined everything in Remus’s life.
He tries to not let himself think of the fact that he’d also love to run his tongue along the neck of a boy he’s barely spoken to.
“Maybe,” Remus replies, attempting to change the subject, “I think poor Peter needs more help than I do. Will someone please tell him that caressing Mary’s ankles is not arousing for either of them!”
James snorts, “Maybe he has a thing for ankles,”
The three boys break into cackles as they watch the scene in front of them. Remus can’t help but smile as he wraps his arm around James and tosses an almost empty whisky bottle at Frank. The propinquity he shares with his friends is sacred and the bonds of their group are something out of a film scene. He finds so much joy in the platonic affections they share with one another.
He wonders if Sirius has any friends.
゜✧*̣̩☽⋆゜
Amelia Bones is beautiful. She has long black, silky hair that rests against her back and her skin is a golden brown that emphasizes her radiating smile. She’s dressed as an angel, which Remus believes fits her elegance perfectly. And Remus thinks she’s one of the most lovely girls he ever had the pleasure of looking at.
Remus is appalled at himself because every time Amelia lets out a giggle or her hand grazes Remus’s arm, he thinks of Sirius. Her smile is so brightening, that it reminds Remus of Sirius’s cross necklace. These thoughts swarm Remus’s brain and he can’t seem to escape them.
He readjusts his wolf ears, leaning against a staircase as Amelia recounts a story that Remus can barely follow along. Music is blaring in the halls of Gideon and Fabian Prewett’s house, and from the corner of his eye, he notices Peter and Mary exchanging heavy-planted kisses.
Frank and James are watching him from across the room, sitting on kitchen counters, beers held in their clutch. James winks at Remus, and for a moment, Remus despises him. He takes another sip of his own drink, hoping that by descending into intoxication, he’ll leave this party without making a fool of himself.
“I think your friends are watching us,” Amelia says lightly.
Remus nods. “Yeah, they do that. I’m sorry they’re the biggest idiots I know,”
The girl giggles and the sound is so seraphic Remus wants to praise it. “No, it’s alright. My friends are watching us as well,”
She points to two drunken boys smirking as they share a joint. “Oh,”
“Yeah, so stupid friends,” The girl shrugs, “Something we’ve got in common,”
Remus snorts, “I think I carry the brain for the majority of my friends. Well, Lily and I do,”
Amelia nods, “Lil’s the brightest girl I know,”
“How’d you two meet?” Remus asks.
“We work at the tutoring program together, in the next town over. We’re the only two who aren’t old ladies, so we naturally clicked together,” The girl says. “I go to the private school, Bringington, and my teacher recommended me for the program,”
“Private school, eh?” Remus raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not a posh twat,” The girl replies, “Scholarship,”
Remus nods, “I was offered a scholarship at Brinington, but It’s an hour-long bus ride and all my friends were going to Hogwarts anyway,”
Amelia doesn’t reply, she raises her own cup to her lip, attempting to keep eye contact with Remus. He feels a heavy hand clap the back of his shoulder and he jolts like a frightened cat. He turns to see Gideon and Fabian Prewett grinning at him, ear to ear. They’re both dressed in black, and Remus can not decipher what their costumes are supposed to be.
James, Peter, and Remus are known for their mastery in the prank department, but Gideon and Fabian are their silent rivals. For every disturbance the trio creates, the twins feel the need to one-up them and increase the intensity of their formed uproar. And it’s not just within the region of pranks. When James asked Lily out in the middle of class, Fabian asked Emmeline to dinner in the middle of a school-gathered assembly. Peter and Gideon had bought fallen for Mary Macdonald, and in the end, Gideon had won her over (until he tragically broke her heart in June of this year). But now, Remus feels a sense of pride as he watches Peter snog Mary just a few feet away. For some odd reason, Gideon doesn’t seem bothered.
“Oi, Lupin,” Fabian says, “This is the first time I’ve seen you speak to a girl other than Evans or MacDonald in… months,”
“Shut it, Fab,” Remus replies, “You know that’s a lie, an utter one,”
“Is it?”
“Yes, because I was with your sister the other night,” Remus smirked.
“That’s a horrible one, mate!” Gideon exclaimed, his tongue loose, obviously drunk. “My mum could crack a joke better than that. And besides, Molly’s just had er’ baby, she’s too busy to want to put up with you and your bullshit,”
Amelia raises an eyebrow, “Wait… Molly Weasley? With the red hair?”
“Yeah, that’s her,” Fabian says.
“Her husband, Arthur is it? He works with my brother, they’re practically best friends,”
“Oh thank god,” Gideon snorts, “That– he needs… he needs one,”
His tone is wobbly as if it’s on the verge of spilling from his throat. Remus places his cup down gently, looking at Gideon. “Are you alright, Gid?”
The red-haired boy nods lightly, and Fabian snorts. “Oh fuck, he’s proper gone. He’s about to puke his fucking guts out, he always does when he’s light-headed. I’ll take him upstairs–”
“Fab!” Emmeline shouts, running toward him. “Snape’s just arrived! He’s already started it with Potter! Get him out of here before someone ends up dead!”
“Snape?” Remus’s fingers curl into a ball.
“No, Lupin!” Fabian shouts, raising a hand in front of Remus’s face. “You’ll kill him, I can’t deal with that blood on my hands, this is my bloody party! Just– will you take Gid upstairs? Make sure he doesn’t fucking loose it all over mum’s new carpet.”
“Fabian–”
“Remus, just fucking do it,”
“But Snape–”
“I don’t bloody care what Snape’s done, I need him out, and knowing you, you’ll start a fight with him. You and Potter against him is like two dogs from the pound against a starved cat,”
Remus looks over at Gideon, who’s stumbling over broken bottles of vodka, and sighs, “Fine,”
Fabian mouths his thanks yous and runs after his girlfriend. Remus turns to Amelia but he’s with the sight of vacuity. Amelia’s running over to the kitchen, joining in on a chant, that Remus can only vaguely hear. Something along the lines of Potter, he believes.
“Alright, let’s get this done with, Prewett,” Remus huffs, slightly annoyed that he hasn’t even reached the edge of tipsiness yet.
“What?” Gideon murmurs and Remus shakes his head.
He places Gideon’s arm over his shoulder, and his hand along the boy’s back. As he carries him upstairs, helping him place his foot on each step, he thinks about Sirius for each and every stair that he wishes so desperately to be in Gideon’s position, drunk and oblivious, like your innocence has been restored.
They barely make it to his and Fabian’s bathroom before he’s emptying himself in the toilet. Remus shouts and pushes him into the door once he notices the vomit descending from his mouth, and thankfully, it barely touches the tiled floor. Gideon falls to his knees, and grips strongly onto the toilet seat, and Remus crouches down beside him, his hand hovering over the boy’s back.
Gideon groans once he’s finished, and tilts backward to lean against the bathtub. Remus steps over his frame, flushing the toilet and sighs as he picks up an empty glass filled with toothbrushes, replacing it with water. He hands the glass to the red-haired calamity on the floor. Gideon thanks him with a grumble, and downs the glass, as Remus slides down the wall beside him.
“Thanks,” The boy groans.
Remus waves his hand. “It’s fine, you alright?”
“Yeah, I’ve just gotten bloody wasted and it’s not even fucking twelve yet, my ex-girlfriend is getting it on with Peter Pettigrew, and the funny part is I’m not even jealous, but other than that, lovely night,” Gideon snorts.
“Well, you did break up with her,” Remus adds.
“Trust me, if we went on, I would have broken her heart ten times worse,”
“What? You’d cheat on her?” Remus asks, anger rising.
“No…” The boy sighs. “Maybe, if we– do you have any dire secrets, Lupin?”
Remus gulps because he truly wouldn’t even know where to begin. “Maybe,”
“And would you want anyone to know those secrets?” Remus shakes his head. “Exactly. So, imagine having all of these secrets completely contradicting your relationship, because they know the truth. And it haunts you. Every single day. A piece of you doesn’t want to ruin the girl you love so much, but another piece of you just wants to be free,”
Remus understands so deeply it sets his insides on fire. “Yeah, I get that. So you broke up with her because you fell in love with another girl? No wonder she’d never say why you ended things,”
“I told her not to tell anyone,” Gideon looks down at the floor, “Because it wasn’t a girl I fell in love with,”
It takes Remus a minute to process the sentence before he’s placing his lips on Gideon’s. It doesn’t feel right, it doesn’t match the passion Remus had always believed he’d feel when kissing a bloke. He tries so hard to dive deeper into Gideon, but all he can think of is what Sirius Black would say if he found out Remus kissed a bloke. Gideon kisses him back, his hands reaching for Remus’s neck, and Remus pictures pale hands, rather than freckled ones. He wonders if Sirius would scream at him about Leviticus until his throat ran dry, or if he would go down on his knees, begging God to save him.
He wonders if Sirius would kiss a boy, and he pulls away gasping.
“Lupin?” Gideon drawls quiet and Remus feels as if all the air has been drained from his lungs. “Fuck, Lupin, I know that’s a lot to take in, but…”
Remus lets out a dry sob and he wants to hide in the bathtub until the entire house has been cleared. He wants to crawl into himself because his mind is running a thousand times at once and it’s all too much.
“Is that the first time you’ve…”
“Kissed a bloke, yes,” Remus nods, “I’ve known for a while,”
“So… you’re gay as well, then?” Remus finds himself wincing at the word.
“No, I like girls too,”
“Oh,”
“What’s wrong with me?” He asks, but it comes out as a beg. “I’m so– I’m so ashamed of liking men, it’s driven me up the wall. And now I can’t stop thinking of him and it possesses every single aspect of my fucking life!”
“Who’s him?” Gideon asks lightly, and Remus notices a slight smile on his face.
“This boy, I hate him,” Remus shrugs. “But some things he does are absolutely brilliant and he says things that I think about for days and days, and I don’t sleep over it. I want to know everything about him because he’s so mysterious,”
“Ok, Remus,” Gideon looks directly at him. “Firstly, you can not control your liking for men, none of us can. The church fucked us all up, I understand that, but you need to dig that belief out of your brain because it’s not true. Secondly, I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about... I can't process it. I've just emptied half my stomach into this toilet,"
"I hate him," Remus emphasizes, "I do, truly,"
Gideon snorts. "Alright mate,"
"Gid," Remus says softly, after a few minutes of silence. "How long does it take for you to dig those beliefs out of your brain,"
"It's a long journey," Gideon replies, "I still have nights where I cry until my entire body aches, because why me? But, some days I feel okay. I feel as if I can take on the universe, and that my liking for blokes shouldn't hold me back. It's so normal, Remus. There are more of us than you could ever possibly imagine,"
His words give Remus a sense of comfort, but they're not vital enough to give him a long interval of serenity.