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small_giftsTitle: The Tyranny of Petty Things.
Author/Artist:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rian219
Written for:moondagny
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "I fly because it releases my mind from the tyranny of petty things." -- Antoine de St-Exupery
Any other random notes, warnings, etc.: Thanks tostarkiller and suzene for the beta. Merry Christmas moondagny! I hope you like it.
****
Remus had a hand raised to knock on the scratched, beaten-up door of 12 Grimmauld Place when Sirius opened it, and without a word beckoned him inside. The sunlight of a rare fine day in London didn't follow him in, however, the hall he stepped into gloomy and almost totally dark. The darkness enveloped him totally once the door was shut behind him, along with the dank, damp smell of a house long shut up. He put the suitcases he was carrying down and opened his mouth to speak, assuming that Sirius was still somewhere in front of him and that his eyes would adjust eventually. As he took in a breath to speak, Sirius' wand flared to life, and he clapped a hand over Remus' mouth. In the stark light of his wand, he looked drawn and haggard, and not happy. Remus was sure he himself looked much the same.
"We can't talk here," Sirius whispered. "We'll go down to the kitchen, at least there's a fire there. Leave those there." Gesturing to the suitcases with his wand, Sirius turned and started towards a door down the corridor, and Remus had no choice but to follow. Not that he would have wanted to stay where he was.
The kitchen was at least marginally more cheery than the entrance hall, made so by the fire and the presence of alcohol. Imprints of fingers had been left in the thick dust that covered the bottle of very fine scotch sitting on the kitchen table; Remus picked it up and pulled Sirius' empty glass toward him, pouring himself a couple of fingers and throwing it back all at once. They'd need more of that if they were going to live there for any length of time, he was sure of it. He picked up the bottle again and poured himself some more.
"Where's Buckbeak?"
Sirius smiled the first real smile Remus had seen on him since Dumbledore had said yes to his offer of the house for a Headquarters. "In my mum's room."
Remus laughed and lifted his glass. "I'll drink to that."
Sirius picked up the bottle and clinked it against the side of the glass. "So will I."
****
They got roaring drunk that night, on several bottles of Mr Black Senior's dust-covered finest. They shagged each other rotten on Sirius' childhood bed, repeatedly and loudly, a few over the top theatrics a small price to pay for keeping the dark, damp gloom of the house at bay.
****
The next morning Remus went to get food, head pounding and stomach roiling, so they could stave off their hangovers with grease. Their plates were barely cleaned of their breakfast when Dumbledore arrived with a box full of potions, potions ingredients, elixirs and antidotes from Snape, to assist them in getting the house fit to live in. Sirius curled his lip at that, but followed Dumbledore out of the kitchen docilely enough when it was time to perform the Fidelius. Remus sat in the kitchen, drinking tea and eating the leftover bacon out of the pan, and trying not to think about just how horribly wrong that spell had gone for them, for all of them, so many years ago.
When Sirius came back into the kitchen with a face like thunder, Dumbledore was gone. Sirius drank the rest of his tea, long cold by then, and went up to Buckbeak's room. Remus put the box of potions ingredients away, made more tea and went to sit out on the back step and contemplate life and the overgrown garden. He'd finished his tea and made another by the time he heard the tick-tick-tick of furry feet approaching through the door behind him. He didn't have a chance to turn around before Padfoot was nudging under his arm, sitting with his rump on one step and his front paws on the one below. Remus squeezed him gently, and Padfoot put his head up, pressing his nose to Remus' cheek. It was wet, and his whiskers tickled. Remus put his hand up to scratch the dog's ears, and Padfoot sighed.
"We'll be fine, Padfoot. Things'll be different this time." That part he was saying as much for himself as for Sirius. "You'll see."
Padfoot put his head down, pressing his nose against Remus' bended knee, and snorted, spreading a patch of wetness on the material of Remus' trousers. Remus shoved him gently.
"Hey! Stop snotting all over my trousers, you bloody pillock."
Padfoot put his head up and grinned, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. Remus chuckled, and hugged him close, pressing his face into the soft fur of his neck.
"You laugh now, you hairy bastard, but you'll be the one cleaning them, not me."
****
The house was too big a beast for them to tackle most of the time, so they retreated to the garden more often than not, both of them finding therapy in blasting the wild, out of control vegetation to smithereens in as spectacular a way as possible. Once it was cleared they spent as much time out there as possible, weather permitting. On warm days they even ate their meals out there, in their shirtsleeves, trousers rolled up to their knees.
"You know, with the Fidelius, we could get about out here naked, and no one could see us," Sirius said one day, completely out of the blue.
Remus snorted. "I don't think even the Fidelius could stand up to the sight of my naked body, Sirius. Even if it could, I wouldn't want to frighten the birds."
He laughed, but Sirius didn't laugh with him. When Remus looked over at him, he was smiling slightly, but had his head down, his gaze trained on the pages of his old copy of Quidditch Through the Ages that he'd found in Regulus' old room. He turned a page idly.
"There's nothing wrong with your body. It looks just the same to me." He turned another page. "Same old Moony."
Remus opened his mouth to reply, but couldn't think of a single thing to say. Sirius turned another page of his book, and Remus shut his mouth and looked up at the summer sky.
****
Sirius' sleep was not restful. If it wasn't dreams - nightmares, more like - waking him up in a cold sweat, forcing them both down to the kitchen for whiskey-laced tea, it was that he couldn't sleep at all, or couldn't stay asleep. More times than he could count Remus woke alone in bed, Sirius silhouetted against the window where he stood looking out into the night. At first Remus tried to coax him back to bed, but after a few times he just let him be, lying in bed watching him until he fell back to sleep again. When he woke up in the morning, sometimes Sirius would be there, and sometimes he wouldn't. They never talked about it. It was just the way things were.
****
The day they got notification that the Weasleys and Hermione were coming to stay was spent making beds and bedrooms presentable, cleaning charms the order of the day. Their talk was of organisational things, how many blankets they had, how much food they needed, until Sirius, pillow tucked under his chin as he pulled a pillowcase onto it, said, "What do you think happened to my bike?"
Remus blinked, and finished tucking in a blanket corner before answering. "Your motorbike? I don't know."
Sirius put the pillow he was holding down and picked up another, frowning a little. "Mmm. I lent it to Hagrid, the night...that night." He paused for a moment, then went on. "I wonder if he still has it."
Remus shrugged. "I don't know. I never saw it around the school, but I suppose there's no real reason why I would have. Maybe you should ask him."
"Mmm," Sirius said again, stuffing the pillow he was holding into another pillow case, "Maybe I will. I loved that bike. I loved flying it." He smiled, a little sheepishly. "I loved flying everything."
Remus nodded, smiling. "I remember."
****
Two days later was their last night alone in the house before the Weasleys arrived. Remus woke to a dark room and an empty bed again, Sirius standing in his usual place at the window, looking out. Remus lay still and watched him for a while, then got up, moving quietly across the room to stand beside him at the window. He didn't seem surprised. Remus put an arm around Sirius' waist and pulled him closer, and Sirius leaned into him with a sigh. They stood like that for a while, neither speaking, until Remus finally said, "Come on. Let's get dressed."
Sirius looked at him. "What?"
Remus smiled a little. "We need to get dressed. In warm clothes."
Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Why? It's the middle of the night. And it's summer."
"I know. But you'll see. Just get dressed."
Remus squeezed Sirius' waist briefly then stepped away towards their chest of drawers to dress. After a few moments of surprised silence, Sirius followed. They dressed in silence, the air positively thrumming with the force of Sirius' curiosity. When they were ready Remus led him downstairs and into the library; lately, when he'd gone out to run errands, he'd started dropping by his cottage to pick up a few things of his own that he'd not thought to bring when they'd left to come to Grimmauld Place, and he'd been bringing them back and storing them in the library until such time that he found a place for them. One of the things he'd brought back most recently was his broom. He picked it up, turning to Sirius with a smile.
"I thought we could go flying."
Sirius just stared at him blankly. "Flying?"
"Yes." Remus nodded. "I mean, I know my poor old broom's not the bike, or Buckbeak," he'd thought about using the Hippogryff, actually, but decided he'd be too conspicuous; he was daring when it came to Dumbledore's wrath, but not that daring, "but it's flying all the same, and you loved flying anything. So what do you say?"
Sirius just kept staring at him, and for a good long minute Remus thought that he was going to say that they couldn't, that he wasn't meant to leave the house, that Dumbledore said so. But then he didn't, because saying those sorts of things was Remus' job, and if Remus wasn't going to say them, then no one was going to, least of all Sirius. Eventually he just smiled, and Remus smiled back as Sirius reached out for Remus' broom and claimed it as his own, giving Remus his answer even before his smile turned to a grin and he said, "Let's go, then."
They flew high up above the lights of London, the freezing wind blowing in their faces and making their eyes and noses stream. Sirius whooped with joy, and Remus tightened his arms around Sirius' waist, his chest warm against Sirius' back. They headed for the countryside, where they could be more certain of remaining undetected, dipping in and out of wispy clouds, skimming low along treetops and lakes, and doing daring acrobatics, loop-the-loops and kamikaze dives that made Remus' stomach drop and his eyes shut tight as he clung to Sirius for dear life.
They flew all night, for miles and miles, returning to Grimmauld Place only when the Eastern sky began to lighten. They sat shoulder to shoulder on the back step and watched the sun come up, watch it illuminate a clear, bright blue sky without a cloud in sight. It was going to be a good day.
****
Author/Artist:
rian219Written for:
moondagnyRating: PG-13
Summary: "I fly because it releases my mind from the tyranny of petty things." -- Antoine de St-Exupery
Any other random notes, warnings, etc.: Thanks to
starkiller and suzene for the beta. Merry Christmas moondagny! I hope you like it.****
Remus had a hand raised to knock on the scratched, beaten-up door of 12 Grimmauld Place when Sirius opened it, and without a word beckoned him inside. The sunlight of a rare fine day in London didn't follow him in, however, the hall he stepped into gloomy and almost totally dark. The darkness enveloped him totally once the door was shut behind him, along with the dank, damp smell of a house long shut up. He put the suitcases he was carrying down and opened his mouth to speak, assuming that Sirius was still somewhere in front of him and that his eyes would adjust eventually. As he took in a breath to speak, Sirius' wand flared to life, and he clapped a hand over Remus' mouth. In the stark light of his wand, he looked drawn and haggard, and not happy. Remus was sure he himself looked much the same.
"We can't talk here," Sirius whispered. "We'll go down to the kitchen, at least there's a fire there. Leave those there." Gesturing to the suitcases with his wand, Sirius turned and started towards a door down the corridor, and Remus had no choice but to follow. Not that he would have wanted to stay where he was.
The kitchen was at least marginally more cheery than the entrance hall, made so by the fire and the presence of alcohol. Imprints of fingers had been left in the thick dust that covered the bottle of very fine scotch sitting on the kitchen table; Remus picked it up and pulled Sirius' empty glass toward him, pouring himself a couple of fingers and throwing it back all at once. They'd need more of that if they were going to live there for any length of time, he was sure of it. He picked up the bottle again and poured himself some more.
"Where's Buckbeak?"
Sirius smiled the first real smile Remus had seen on him since Dumbledore had said yes to his offer of the house for a Headquarters. "In my mum's room."
Remus laughed and lifted his glass. "I'll drink to that."
Sirius picked up the bottle and clinked it against the side of the glass. "So will I."
****
They got roaring drunk that night, on several bottles of Mr Black Senior's dust-covered finest. They shagged each other rotten on Sirius' childhood bed, repeatedly and loudly, a few over the top theatrics a small price to pay for keeping the dark, damp gloom of the house at bay.
****
The next morning Remus went to get food, head pounding and stomach roiling, so they could stave off their hangovers with grease. Their plates were barely cleaned of their breakfast when Dumbledore arrived with a box full of potions, potions ingredients, elixirs and antidotes from Snape, to assist them in getting the house fit to live in. Sirius curled his lip at that, but followed Dumbledore out of the kitchen docilely enough when it was time to perform the Fidelius. Remus sat in the kitchen, drinking tea and eating the leftover bacon out of the pan, and trying not to think about just how horribly wrong that spell had gone for them, for all of them, so many years ago.
When Sirius came back into the kitchen with a face like thunder, Dumbledore was gone. Sirius drank the rest of his tea, long cold by then, and went up to Buckbeak's room. Remus put the box of potions ingredients away, made more tea and went to sit out on the back step and contemplate life and the overgrown garden. He'd finished his tea and made another by the time he heard the tick-tick-tick of furry feet approaching through the door behind him. He didn't have a chance to turn around before Padfoot was nudging under his arm, sitting with his rump on one step and his front paws on the one below. Remus squeezed him gently, and Padfoot put his head up, pressing his nose to Remus' cheek. It was wet, and his whiskers tickled. Remus put his hand up to scratch the dog's ears, and Padfoot sighed.
"We'll be fine, Padfoot. Things'll be different this time." That part he was saying as much for himself as for Sirius. "You'll see."
Padfoot put his head down, pressing his nose against Remus' bended knee, and snorted, spreading a patch of wetness on the material of Remus' trousers. Remus shoved him gently.
"Hey! Stop snotting all over my trousers, you bloody pillock."
Padfoot put his head up and grinned, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. Remus chuckled, and hugged him close, pressing his face into the soft fur of his neck.
"You laugh now, you hairy bastard, but you'll be the one cleaning them, not me."
****
The house was too big a beast for them to tackle most of the time, so they retreated to the garden more often than not, both of them finding therapy in blasting the wild, out of control vegetation to smithereens in as spectacular a way as possible. Once it was cleared they spent as much time out there as possible, weather permitting. On warm days they even ate their meals out there, in their shirtsleeves, trousers rolled up to their knees.
"You know, with the Fidelius, we could get about out here naked, and no one could see us," Sirius said one day, completely out of the blue.
Remus snorted. "I don't think even the Fidelius could stand up to the sight of my naked body, Sirius. Even if it could, I wouldn't want to frighten the birds."
He laughed, but Sirius didn't laugh with him. When Remus looked over at him, he was smiling slightly, but had his head down, his gaze trained on the pages of his old copy of Quidditch Through the Ages that he'd found in Regulus' old room. He turned a page idly.
"There's nothing wrong with your body. It looks just the same to me." He turned another page. "Same old Moony."
Remus opened his mouth to reply, but couldn't think of a single thing to say. Sirius turned another page of his book, and Remus shut his mouth and looked up at the summer sky.
****
Sirius' sleep was not restful. If it wasn't dreams - nightmares, more like - waking him up in a cold sweat, forcing them both down to the kitchen for whiskey-laced tea, it was that he couldn't sleep at all, or couldn't stay asleep. More times than he could count Remus woke alone in bed, Sirius silhouetted against the window where he stood looking out into the night. At first Remus tried to coax him back to bed, but after a few times he just let him be, lying in bed watching him until he fell back to sleep again. When he woke up in the morning, sometimes Sirius would be there, and sometimes he wouldn't. They never talked about it. It was just the way things were.
****
The day they got notification that the Weasleys and Hermione were coming to stay was spent making beds and bedrooms presentable, cleaning charms the order of the day. Their talk was of organisational things, how many blankets they had, how much food they needed, until Sirius, pillow tucked under his chin as he pulled a pillowcase onto it, said, "What do you think happened to my bike?"
Remus blinked, and finished tucking in a blanket corner before answering. "Your motorbike? I don't know."
Sirius put the pillow he was holding down and picked up another, frowning a little. "Mmm. I lent it to Hagrid, the night...that night." He paused for a moment, then went on. "I wonder if he still has it."
Remus shrugged. "I don't know. I never saw it around the school, but I suppose there's no real reason why I would have. Maybe you should ask him."
"Mmm," Sirius said again, stuffing the pillow he was holding into another pillow case, "Maybe I will. I loved that bike. I loved flying it." He smiled, a little sheepishly. "I loved flying everything."
Remus nodded, smiling. "I remember."
****
Two days later was their last night alone in the house before the Weasleys arrived. Remus woke to a dark room and an empty bed again, Sirius standing in his usual place at the window, looking out. Remus lay still and watched him for a while, then got up, moving quietly across the room to stand beside him at the window. He didn't seem surprised. Remus put an arm around Sirius' waist and pulled him closer, and Sirius leaned into him with a sigh. They stood like that for a while, neither speaking, until Remus finally said, "Come on. Let's get dressed."
Sirius looked at him. "What?"
Remus smiled a little. "We need to get dressed. In warm clothes."
Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Why? It's the middle of the night. And it's summer."
"I know. But you'll see. Just get dressed."
Remus squeezed Sirius' waist briefly then stepped away towards their chest of drawers to dress. After a few moments of surprised silence, Sirius followed. They dressed in silence, the air positively thrumming with the force of Sirius' curiosity. When they were ready Remus led him downstairs and into the library; lately, when he'd gone out to run errands, he'd started dropping by his cottage to pick up a few things of his own that he'd not thought to bring when they'd left to come to Grimmauld Place, and he'd been bringing them back and storing them in the library until such time that he found a place for them. One of the things he'd brought back most recently was his broom. He picked it up, turning to Sirius with a smile.
"I thought we could go flying."
Sirius just stared at him blankly. "Flying?"
"Yes." Remus nodded. "I mean, I know my poor old broom's not the bike, or Buckbeak," he'd thought about using the Hippogryff, actually, but decided he'd be too conspicuous; he was daring when it came to Dumbledore's wrath, but not that daring, "but it's flying all the same, and you loved flying anything. So what do you say?"
Sirius just kept staring at him, and for a good long minute Remus thought that he was going to say that they couldn't, that he wasn't meant to leave the house, that Dumbledore said so. But then he didn't, because saying those sorts of things was Remus' job, and if Remus wasn't going to say them, then no one was going to, least of all Sirius. Eventually he just smiled, and Remus smiled back as Sirius reached out for Remus' broom and claimed it as his own, giving Remus his answer even before his smile turned to a grin and he said, "Let's go, then."
They flew high up above the lights of London, the freezing wind blowing in their faces and making their eyes and noses stream. Sirius whooped with joy, and Remus tightened his arms around Sirius' waist, his chest warm against Sirius' back. They headed for the countryside, where they could be more certain of remaining undetected, dipping in and out of wispy clouds, skimming low along treetops and lakes, and doing daring acrobatics, loop-the-loops and kamikaze dives that made Remus' stomach drop and his eyes shut tight as he clung to Sirius for dear life.
They flew all night, for miles and miles, returning to Grimmauld Place only when the Eastern sky began to lighten. They sat shoulder to shoulder on the back step and watched the sun come up, watch it illuminate a clear, bright blue sky without a cloud in sight. It was going to be a good day.
****
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no subject
Date: 2006-12-28 05:25 pm (UTC)How dreary you described the house - and how worn Sirius seemed to me.
Remus being self concious about his body made me laugh.
"I don't think even the Fidelius could stand up to the sight of my naked body, Sirius. Even if it could, I wouldn't want to frighten the birds."
XD
Great work!
no subject
Date: 2006-12-29 01:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-28 05:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-29 01:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-28 07:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-29 02:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-28 09:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-29 02:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-28 11:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-29 02:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-28 11:56 pm (UTC)I dearly loved the scene with Padfoot, and the simplicity of their exchange here:
"There's nothing wrong with your body. It looks just the same to me." He turned another page. "Same old Moony."
Remus opened his mouth to reply, but couldn't think of a single thing to say. Sirius turned another page of his book, and Remus shut his mouth and looked up at the summer sky.
Lovely fic.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-29 02:03 am (UTC)Thank you!
Date: 2006-12-29 03:39 am (UTC)What a lovely thing to see when I signed on to LJ this evening. I've been looking forward to reading your story, and it's everything I hoped for, really! :)
My favorite part is Remus reflecting on Dumbledore coming over to cast the Fidelius charm, and the impact that charm has had on their lives. I've got to say, I've never thought about how that must have gone! What an intriguing scene!
Remus and Sirius have a warm, comfortable exchange that seems to right for their relationship at that stage. I love how you've treated their voices. Lovely work! Thank you so much!
Lisa
Re: Thank you!
Date: 2006-12-30 12:38 am (UTC)I'm so glad that this lived up to your expectations! I chose your prompt in the first place because I like writing in this period, I like giving them some happy times and also showing the closeness that they must have had after so long knowing each other. So I'm very happy that you liked it. Thanks for giving me such good prompts to work with.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-29 03:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-30 12:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-03 03:41 pm (UTC)I loved
I always find it difficult to imagine them having light-hearted fun sex in that house.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 05:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-04 01:17 pm (UTC)So wistful and what if and should have and ought to have - all those emotions that are caught up in the imprisonment in Grimmauld. I love the image of flying free; the sadness comes of knowing that they didn't manage to fly free *sniffle* Lovely story!
no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 05:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 01:14 pm (UTC)Padfoot put his head up and grinned, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. Remus chuckled, and hugged him close, pressing his face into the soft fur of his neck.
"You laugh now, you hairy bastard, but you'll be the one cleaning them, not me."
You know, I really liked the contrast here between the deep tenderness of the gesture and the casual humor of the words - they struck probably deeper than a conforting attempt would have.
Another aspect I liked was how you made it sweet, but without leaving the sad out. Because things are not okay and they are never going to be, but they can at least be made a little better. Or something like that.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-09 02:07 am (UTC)You know, I really liked the contrast here between the deep tenderness of the gesture and the casual humor of the words - they struck probably deeper than a conforting attempt would have.
I like to remember that they're two people that have known each other a long time, and being someone who has friends of 20 - 30 years standing myself, I think that that scene is a more realistic one than something else might be. Different strokes for different folks and all that, of course, but I'm glad that part worked for you. Thanks so much for the feedback!
no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 09:20 pm (UTC)he was daring when it came to Dumbledore's wrath, but not that daring
I love this Remus. So often he's pictured as the rule-keeper, but that doesn't fit with what we know of him.
The ending is gorgeous, too - both the imagery and the simplicity of that last line.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-09 02:09 am (UTC)So often he's pictured as the rule-keeper, but that doesn't fit with what we know of him.
I heartily agree. I like to remind myself that I think that by putting in little bits like that, so I'm glad you liked it too. :)
no subject
Date: 2008-07-22 11:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-22 06:56 pm (UTC)http://such-heights.livejournal.com/99218.html?style=mine
Thanks for reading, and for being so supportive - I've seen you around recommending the stories from
no subject
Date: 2008-08-30 07:03 pm (UTC)You described the house and its chilly atmosphere very well, and their methods of escaping it were just really sweet.