Fic: Hard To Sleep for solidbaby

[cursedinsanity.livejournal.com]

Title: Hard To Sleep
Author: cursedinsanity
Written for: solidbaby
Rating: PG.
Prompt: something about jawlines - particularly beautiful ones; the beauty of winter and some kind of Scottish theme (I meant to stick to one, but then the other two came in without me noticing. Sneaky things.)
Summary: When Remus Lupin stayed at Hogwarts for the holidays, he couldn't have possibly imagined that things would turn out like this.
Notes: solidbaby, I'm sorry! I meant to post this a lot earlier, but real life was being positively horrid and thus it was delayed for a while. However, I hope you still enjoy this fic to some extent, for it is not angsty and very school year-y. I'd like to thank Nowrah for the amazing beta ♥



Hard To Sleep

It's the beginning of January, just after Christmas, and Sirius and I are outside. James and Peter have buggered off to their respective families (James to France, Peter to Hertfordshire), so it's just us together for the winter holidays.

We've passed the lake now. It's frozen and a few Ravenclaws are trying their luck on wooden skates, the sort my Mum gave to me when I was three and which I haven't touched since then. Winter is always ... magical at Hogwarts. It's such a stupid description – and if Sirius could hear my thoughts, he'd probably laugh at me – but it's true.

Everything turns to ice. There are sculptures; giant Christmas trees in the Great Hall and all the coats of armours are singing. James thought it would be fitting. I've told him time and time again McGonagall is going to get angry with him, but he doesn't seem to mind. Before the holidays, he even got himself another detention. It's his hundredth, he told us proudly.

Mum always said I was too old for my age, but I never quite got what she meant by that. I mean, I do read an unhealthily amount, but books are my friends.

That probably sounded a bit weird.

I just mean, well, books are a good thing to have when you're twelve and a wizard and a werewolf, a secret which you can't tell anyone, ever, even though I wanted to tell Sirius a lot. Sirius is not like me at all – he's from a pureblood family and he's very rich. Too rich, my Dad wrote back sternly when I told him about the new friends I'd made. He said Sirius's blood would show eventually. I wrote back to say I didn't believe him.

'Remus?'

'Ah, yes?' I ask, shaken from my train of thought. Sirius has led us both towards a tiny copse of trees near the beginning of the Forbidden Forest. There are birches, mostly, but also a few oaks. Those are my favourite trees, because my wand's made out of it (oak wood, I mean).

'Remus?'

'Sorry,' I mutter, blushing. Sirius is standing in front of me, the ridiculous red bobble hat James sent him as a joke tipped sideways over his ears. It looks like something my Grandfather would wear and when I told him that, he laughed.

'Brilliant. I'll look like a well and proper Scotsman now, then.'

That's another thing that's different about Sirius. I'm from Glasgow (so I try to avoid talking too much, because James usually makes fun of me), James is from Manchester, and Peter's from Brighton. But Sirius is from London, and talks really posh. James has never made fun of him, though.

'Let's climb a tree,' a voice whispers in my ear, and I jump before turning around. Sirius beams at me. He's taller than I, much taller; I come up to his neck. And, I think in a slight daze (this isn't the first time Sirius stands so close to me – but I'm still not used to it), it's a handsome neck. I follow it up to Sirius's jaw line, which is a bit round, but has every sign of being handsome, as well. Everything about Sirius is handsome. It's really unfair.

'But –' I start and force myself to stop thinking for just a moment, 'my Mum never let me. I might be bad at it.'

Sirius stares at me with wide eyes, like he sometimes does when he thinks I've said something really stupid. I fidget with the hem of my winter robe, which is too long because it's Dad's old one.

'Don't be stupid.' Sirius stops staring and is already advancing on an oak tree. 'Come on.'

I follow him. The tree looks sturdy and Sirius says, 'Follow me. Don't climb on the smaller branches; you'll want the ones that will hold your weight.'

Clumsily, I make my way up. Sirius is already at the top, waving down at me. 'Yeah, yeah, keep your hair on,' I mutter under my breath, as I gently reach for one of the branches above my head.

It happens in a split second. My hand slips and I teeter-totter dangerously for a moment. 'Oh, blast,' I manage, looking up. Sirius's panicked look is the last thing I see as I lose my footing altogether and slide off the branch, down to the ground.

As soon as it starts, it's over and I'm lying on the frozen grass, my ankle at a very odd angle (in fact, it looks like it had no business being at that angle at all. Blast). I'm so distracted by it that I don't notice Sirius landing gracefully next to me, white as a sheet.

I raise my head up slightly, but lay it down again, because I feel dizzy. It hurts, a bit, my head. Not as much as the transformation or the first two days after, but still, a bit.

'Shit,' Sirius says and glances at my knee. I forget to tell him swearing is bad; instead, I follow his eyes towards my knee, which I scraped on one of the tree branches. It's bleeding. My heart stutters to a halt and starts beating so slowly in my chest I'm no longer sure it really is. I've always been afraid of blood.

'Remus!' Sirius is hovering over me now and waving his hand quickly over my eyes. It bothers me, this movement, and I tell him so. 'I have to get you to the Hospital Wing,' is all Sirius says and tries to lift me up.

'Really,' I insist. 'I'm fine. Bit faint. I don't like blood. I told you I wasn't any good at climbing trees. I'm clumsy, you know, you could notice. I've banged my head against the bathroom cabinet forty-three times already.'

That always happens when I'm about to faint. I start babbling. It also happens when I'm nervous, so Sirius probably can't set the two apart. He hauls me up despite my protests and slings my arm over his shoulder, half-dragging me towards the castle.

'You're being silly. I'm fine,' I tell him. My eyes start to droop and I can't even begin to manage the horror of fainting on Sirius. He'd probably be upset with me. Maybe he'd even tell James, and then I won't be his friend any more. That made me a bit sad.

'You're not.' I'm no longer listening, because everything has faded to black.

*

'It was stupid of you, Mr Black.'

'I don't think so. He needed to see you, his leg was all odd.'

I recognise Sirius's voice. I wonder why he's so mad.

'- postural hypotension!'

The other voice is saying and I recognise it as Madam Pomfrey's. She's the school nurse. I wince. Sirius didn't listen to me, again.

'What?' Sirius responds and his voice is just on the edge of polite. He talks to Severus Snape in the same way.

I try to shift on the bed, but something's stopping me and I open my eyes. The light streaming into the Hospital Wing through the window opposite me is unnecessarily bright and I groan, because my head hurts and my leg hurts, as well.

'Remus.' Sirius doesn't sound angry any more, he sounds relieved. I notice he's standing at the foot of my bed, Madam Pomfrey opposite him. She smiles at me. 'How're you feeling, dear?'

'My head hurts,' I squeak, blushing. Madam Pomfrey is always so nice to me. I don't know why – I've bled on her sheets a lot.

'I'll get you a potion,' she says and then flutters away. Sirius goes to sit by me.

We're both quiet for a while. I can feel Sirius's tense shoulders next to me. It's odd, he looks a bit like I feel: nervous, sick.

'Sorry I made you climb a tree,' he says, eventually. I stare at him. Sirius has never said sorry for anything before and I've known him for nearly two years, now.

'Sorry I fell out of it,' I remark dryly and Sirius grins at me, though it's obviously a bit forced.

I finger the sheets on either side of me. It's stupid, but this is my bed in the Hospital Wing. I always know it is, because its sheets are the softest.

'It's weird,' Sirius says suddenly, startling me, 'that you're afraid of blood.'

I blink, feeling my cheeks heat up. There it goes. Sirius will announce he'll tease me for it for the rest of my life.

'I mean, for a werewolf.'

I whip my head around, my eyes as wide as saucers. How did he – oh, blastblastblast, this was not good! What if he told someone? What if he was mad at me? What if he doesn't want to be your friend any more, a voice in my head went and I closed my eyes.

'What, you thought I didn't know?' Sirius says now, sharply. 'Do you think I'm blind?'

'I –'

'No, let me finish,' Sirius interrupts. 'I thought we were friends. Friends tell each other things like this, you know.'

'But –'

'What?'

I open my eyes. Sirius is glaring at me, arms crossed over his chest. He looks really angry. I can't help it; I really hate it when people are mad at me.

'I'm sorry. I – I'm sorry. I – I didn't want to keep it from you, but I promised. And –'

Well, it doesn't matter any more, does it? Sirius probably hates me right now and is angry with me for being a werewolf and probably feels disgusted that he stood so close to me outside.

'– it doesn't matter, right? I'll be gone tomorrow, anyway.'

'You're leaving?'

Sirius's anger turns into shock abruptly.

'Well, yeah. No one was supposed to find out. That was the agreement. If they did, I have to keep my part of the promise and go home.'

'But ... what will you do?'

Now that it's all falling apart, it doesn't seem to matter, anymore. I like Hogwarts, but I'd known from the start that it wasn't going to last forever. I should be grateful that I got this far, really. I felt disappointed, but it was just the way things were. I had fun, right? That's what mattered. Maybe Dad would lend me his old wand, once mine was snapped.

I shrugged. 'Maybe I'll become a librarian. I've always liked books.'

'You – you can't leave,' Sirius splutters and it's the third time he stresses his words, which he only does when he's upset.

'I really should,' I say and I look at my knees. 'I mean, you've told and people aren't very nice to werewolves.'

'I haven't told!'

I blink up at him, surprised.

'What, you think I would?' Sirius demands. My apparent lack of reply within three seconds makes him growl. 'Of course I'm not going to! It doesn't matter.'

'W – what?'

'It. Doesn't. Matter,' Sirius says through clenched teeth. 'Twat. Do you think it would?'

'Well, yes,' I say, perfectly reasonably.

Sirius hits me.

'Twat,' he says again (he heard Gideon Prewett say it to his brother earlier this month; he sort of worships Gideon Prewett). 'You are a twat. You are the twattiest twat that has ever twatted.'

'Er,' I say and wonder why the feeling in my chest is now oddly relaxed. I hadn't realised it felt so constricted in the first place. 'I'm sorry?'

'Yeah, you better be,' Sirius says darkly. I nod. Does this – does this mean he's still my friend? That he's really not mad? Oh, please let it be that. Please let it be true. I really, really like Sirius.

'Remus?'

I turn, and suddenly, Sirius kisses me. He backs away really quickly, though, like it was accidental and he hadn't meant to.

'Er,' I say.

'You're a twat,' Sirius says darkly, then stomps out of the Hospital Wing. I blink after him, surprised. Madam Pomfrey glides back into the room, potion in hand.

'Here you go, dear,' she says, and hands me a cup. 'Swallow. There you go. Now, sleep.'

'Mhm,' I muttered, in reply, already starting to feel drowsy.

'That Black boy,' I heard Madam Pomfrey mutter and then she disappears.

The doors to the Hospital Wing open and Sirius slinks back in. I can hardly keep my eyes open, but I know it's him, because he whispers, 'You're one of my best mates, Remus. Of course it doesn't matter. I'll always be here for you.'

'M'all right. Y'can't copy m'Charms essay, though,' I tell him.

'Spoilsport,' Sirius laughs, and the sound gets me to sleep.