Fear of the Dark for passakiss by busaikko

[busaikko]

Title: Fear of the Dark (2921 words *does wordcount limbo*)
Author: busaikko
Rating: PG13 for boykissing
Fandom: Harry Potter / Dark Is Rising crossover
Beta, Brit-pick, and Guide to Hiking though Slough: Aunty Marion
Summary: for passakiss who wanted full moon on Christmas, carols, snow snogging, no sap, angst light or hardcore, Hogwarts and post Hogwarts, and silly random hats. I deliver all of this save Hogwarts (though am not sure about the sappiness content). I hope this pleases! (And the crossover thing? It just happened! Do not know why!)
And sweetie: Happy Birthday! (12-29!) *throws confetti*


"Oh - oh - oh, buggery," Remus said, breathless and flushed scarlet, broad hands spread on his knees as he doubled over, trying to get his breath back.

Sirius skidded to a stop - literally - windmilling his arms to keep from sliding onto the train tracks. He straightened instantly, brushing snow from his coat, and set his shoulders back, raised his chin, and tried to look bored. "There'll be another train," he offered, and Remus turned his head enough to glower. Remus' hair was dark with sweat at the roots and stuck up all over in untidy clumps the colour of honey. There was snow and ice in Remus' hair, not to mention the brambly scratches and the half-blackened eye. Sirius wondered if he ought to apologise for the not-quite-as-short-as-he'd-thought shortcut.

"There won't be another bloody train," Remus said. "That was the last one before the holiday." He straightened, one hand massaging his side. "Well. This is just lovely."

"Dumbledore would understand - " Sirius started, gesturing swishily with a finger, and Remus blew his breath out in a long, tight stream of frustration.

"I don't have my wand, either," Remus said flatly.

Sirius blinked, and then swore.

"Dumbledore was very insistent," Remus continued. "No magic. Disguised as Muggles. I thought it would be safer if I left my wand in your flat as well."

"You didn't trust me."

Remus' mouth quirked up into a smile. "To do without magic for three whole days? Not as far as I could throw you." He tugged at the straps of his rucksack and picked up Sirius' battered leather suitcase. The look he gave Sirius was similar to that which had prefaced the better Marauder pranks, but somehow it seemed more rueful now, sadder. Remus shook the snow from his hair and started walking.

"Except that it's been close to a week," Sirius said, falling into step easily and wresting his bag from Remus' ungloved fingers. "And tomorrow's - "

" - Christmas. I know," Remus said. "It's not more than twenty miles. We'll be in London soon enough, get our wands, and Floo through to my parents' in time for a late breakfast." He looked sidelong at Sirius. "I did say Peter'd be better for this job - he could've borrowed his girlfriend's car."

"And what good would Peter have been tomorrow night?" Sirius snapped.

Remus shrugged acquiescence. "Maybe someone will give us a lift." He nudged Sirius with his elbow. "All week you've been moaning about how there was no adventure in this Muggle lark."

"Yes, well, when our battered and frozen bodies turn up in the spring - " Sirius started, and Remus laughed, his breath making a cloud around his head.

"You're scared."

"I bloody well am not."

"You're scared of the Muggles in the dark."

Sirius paused. "My old nanny used to tell me stories about Muggles and the things they do. With their guns and their cars."

"Your old nanny's head was nailed to the stairwell, I think you said. I think she suffered from displaced anxiety."

Sirius thought about that, thought about all the fears and terrors that had been his childhood companions because he was supposed to become strong enough to fear nothing. In a perverse way, he might have his family to thank for the fact that here he was, wandering with a werewolf.

He realised with a start that he'd been thinking too long, that the conversation was dangling. "You can't apply Freud to house-elves," he said, sharper than he'd intended. "It's not like they're - "

"Human?" Remus murmured with that deceptive softness of his that was like this damned snow: so light when it fell that you barely noticed when it choked the life out of you. "I don't know. I've read a great deal of what Anna Freud wrote about defence mechanisms. I find her to be uncannily applicable to the psychology of Dark creatures."

"Lovely gods-damned weather we're having, isn't it?" Sirius said, modulating his pace so that he walked a full half-step behind Remus. All his conversations with Remus over the past week had got progressively worse: he felt as if he'd been given the wrong script, somehow. Remus was in a sedate drama with wit and humour, and he was struggling with tortured dialogue that was most likely Continental and badly translated besides. He amused himself by stomping his left foot on the shadow of Remus' heart with every stride. The moonlight was as merciless as the cold, and the silence was not a comfort.

He'd thought this favour they were doing for Dumbledore would be a throwback to the Marauders, to their school pranks. But he didn't see Remus enough these days to share that easiness with him any more. Remus had been so serious as he'd presented letters of introduction, and charmed antiques dealers over countless cups of dusty tea. He'd taken notes and photographs and drawn maps and diagrams, and when they returned to the grubby pub where they'd taken a room, Remus went straight upstairs and read books.

Sirius had drunk a little more each night before going to throw things at Remus' head. Small Muggle things: pens, matchboxes, buttons, guitar picks. Remus fielded them with baffled amusement (or annoyance, if they found their mark; fortunately, Sirius' aim when drunk was dreadful). Sirius couldn't explain himself. If it had been James, Sirius would have been in certain conversational waters; if it had been Peter, they would have played darts and billiards and talked rugby. But being stuck so close to Remus without a buffer: Sirius should have known it would be no good.

He shrugged and turned into a dog. Remus stopped short, and Sirius supposed he was biting his lip again to hold his temper in. Then Remus turned, picked up Sirius' suitcase, and continued slogging on through the slushy snow by the side of the road.

They walked like that for the next few miles, leaving the brick buildings that smelt of petrol and solvent behind. They were past Slough - Remus insisted on taking the old ways that ran along the river instead of the busier Muggle roads - when they stumbled into a picture-postcard-perfect little village. Sirius changed back to appreciate the view in colour vision (and also because it was getting harder to resist chasing rabbits in the dark woods). Soft drifts of snow shone like sugar in the moonlight, and they met up with a boisterous group of carol-singers who absorbed them easily, sharing out hot tea from a flask and promising mince pies.

The carol-singers had a James as well. He was stocky and studied music some place that made Remus whistle in appreciation. Sirius, listening to the others as he mouthed the words to the carols (his own singing voice was dreadful), thought that Remus was just as good a singer. But when he heard Remus' voice entwined with this James' clear tenor, he could hear the way Remus' voice frayed. He hated that the screaming agonies of lycanthropy would, inevitably, flay Remus' voice until he was barely able to speak, much less sing. It happens to us, Remus had said with a shrug; the same thing he'd said about the first wound that had been bad enough to leave a lasting scar, back in sixth year.

A final handful of coins was dropped into the collection box for the church amid a chorus of Thank Yous and Happy Christmases, and the singers switched on torches as they headed home to the old vicarage.

Someone bumped Sirius' arm; when he turned to look, the girl in the green tartan beret gave him a wide smile of broad teeth. Sirius wasn't sure if she were plump or just well insulated against the cold. "Not one for singing, are you?" she said, and nudged him again. He tried to remember her name - Jenny, or Gwen, or - Mary, that was it, he thought. "Here's the turn-off - the house is just up the drive. We'll get some warm food in you. It's not snowed on Christmas for ten years - fancy walking all the way to London in this!"

"You're very kind," Sirius said. "I'm glad you didn't think us dangerous criminals."

"I trust my brother," she said, bobbing her head at the brother she meant - well over half the carol-singers turned out to be siblings, and the rest were their friends. "He knows things."

Oh, does he? Sirius thought, keeping an eye on the man as they flooded the house, shedding coats and scarves and wraps and gloves. The brother in question had a round, boyish face and a dreadful hand-knit jumper. Not a wizard, Sirius decided - he didn't recognise him from Hogwarts. The man looked up suddenly and stared right at Sirius. His gaze felt ancient and knowing, though it lasted barely the space of a heartbeat.

There was a flurry of activity centring on the kitchen into which Remus insinuated himself naturally, acquiring a light dusting of flour and, at some point, a handkerchief of something that he pressed over his blackening eye. Even without magic the table was soon laden with steaming hot pies and pudding, and pottery mugs of mulled wine were distributed with laughter and grace. Sirius felt out of place and inadequate amongst the Muggles, which was off-balancing. So much of what he knew how to do was dependent on an eleven-inch stick.

"Here." Mary's brother, the not-wizard, thrust a laden plate into Sirius' hands. "It's amazing how quickly all this disappears. I grabbed you the last of the papadums - Gwen's Gautam makes them, they're grand with that pumpkin stuff."

"Thank you," Sirius said. He glanced around the room, trying to recall who everyone was, and failed. He blamed the heat from the roaring fire and the alcohol, but he feared, deep down, that it was his breeding at work: they were only Muggles, after all. Just like Remus, he thought bitterly, and swallowed down too much of the wine, too fast.

"We've overwhelmed you, haven't we?" Sirius found himself being steered towards the kitchen, which was perversely empty. "My family nearly gave Bran - " his host gestured to the peroxide-blond making Remus laugh - " fits the first time he met them all. Of course, that was Gwen's wedding, so it was doubly mad." The kitchen door was shut, firmly. "Bran says your eyes remind him of a dog he owned, once."

"Who are you?" Sirius asked, too busy drowning to be polite. "Did Du - were we sent here?"

Serious dark eyes blinked at him, owl-wise. "That's not what's important. I have a message for you, Sirius Black - "

---

It was time to go, and everyone followed them out into the yard, where the fumes from the car billowed white.

"I don't know how to thank you," Remus said. He wore, with ridiculous grace, a pink and red knit cap that had been dug out of a cupboard on his behalf.

"Give us a song, then," Mary said, stamping her feet on the frozen ground.

Remus grinned, took a deep breath, and then another. Sirius saw James half-pull the pitch pipe from his coat pocket, and then drop it in again as the first clear notes rang out in the falling snow:

Kommet, ihr Hirten, Ihr Männer und Fraun!
Kommet, das liebliche Kindlein zu schaun!
Christus, der Herr, ist heute geboren,
Den Gott zum Heiland Euch hat erkoren.
Fürchtet euch nicht!

They said their final goodbyes after that, and James threw open the car doors grandly. "If you think performing for that lot was embarrassing, wait until you've been chauffeured in my mother's Reliant Robin."

Sirius settled on top of a shifting pile of wood; Remus balanced himself on the other end with the suitcase on his feet; and they took off with arse-endangering speed. Remus deftly turned the conversation to motorcycles, and then dozed as James argued tyres and horsepowers and leather with Sirius. The miles flew past, and it was no time before they reached the bridge.

James protested that he could take them into the city, easily, but they said no, you've done more than enough, and Remus said tell everyone thank you from us, and they waved as he turned the car around lazily and the taillights disappeared in the snow.

Remus bumped his shoulder against Sirius' and they stood like that, looking out across the bridge, over the water, towards the city which looked like it was made of magic.

"Say something bad about Muggles now," Remus said, sounding as if he were smiling.

"I'll say what I'm thinking," Sirius said slowly. "James' brother, the Muggle dewin, told me the true power of the dark is that it makes us afraid and slaves to our fears. So. You should know, I'm very much afraid of what I'm about to say. That's why it's what I didn't say to you all week. I'm afraid you'll - not hate me, you wouldn't hate me, but… you'll see me differently. We won't be the same kind of friends, anymore."

Remus bumped Sirius on the shoulder again. "Go on, then. You see me naked and bleeding every month." Sirius couldn't repress a strangled kind of noise. "There's nothing you don't know about me," Remus continued. "And you should know that I don't value our friendship that lightly."

"Would you still want me there with you? On the full moon nights, and the morning after…. If I told you… if I said that I liked you?" Remus went still, staring out at the bridge. "If I said that I loved you?"

Remus stood motionless; Sirius made a half-turn to stand directly in front of that faraway gaze. He leant forward and covered Remus' mouth with his own, shutting his eyes for a moment, trying to make himself feel that this was what Remus wanted, too. After the moment passed, and he realised he was the only one kissing, he pulled back, just enough to drop his forehead against Remus' shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry."

Remus dropped the suitcase - accidentally on Sirius' foot - and then wrapped his arms around Sirius' back, carefully, patting him in a way surely meant to be comforting.

"I thought," Remus said, in a voice barely louder than the snow, "I thought you were going to tell me you were getting married, you were engaged, or something. That's what I thought. I had no idea, Sirius, it's - I'll need time to think. Please understand that, I need to think about this. I think I was wrong, I think this does change our friendship - "

"Oh, gods," Sirius said, grabbing Remus' coat with both hands.

"Do you know what it means, fürchtet euch nicht?" Remus asked, very gently. "Don't be afraid. You're not afraid of me as a wolf. . . ."

"You're more frightening when you think," Sirius said, turning his head and nuzzling his cold nose under Remus' jaw.

"I'd be a terrible person if you saying that you, that you love me - " Remus' voice went hoarse on the words " - didn't change anything. I'd be arrogant and shallow."

"Which you're not, not at all," Sirius said. Remus took a very small step backwards, just enough to dislodge Sirius from his hiding place, and put one icy hand under Sirius' chin to make him meet his eyes.

"I'm not afraid," Remus said, and Sirius' heart did double time.

"Good," he said. "Good, I'm glad," he said, leaning closer, being very slow this time so that Remus could stop him easily. "I won't be afraid either, then," he said, his mouth practically on Remus'.

"Ah," Remus said, and then Sirius was kissing him again, his tongue flicking into Remus' open mouth and sweeping across his teeth. Remus' hand slid round to the back of Sirius' neck and Remus was not saying no and Remus was kissing back; in a way; tentative and unsure and sweet as the dawn. Sirius wanted it to last forever, but he was losing all sensation in his extremities and he thought that it might be better if Remus had something to anticipate - or even yearn for - while he thought.

So he pulled back and hefted his suitcase.

"It's not something I've ever done," Remus said, and Sirius was amazed to discover that he knew Remus well enough to be able to hear a blush. "Kissing blokes."

"I don't want you kissing blokes," Sirius said in alarm - sweet Circe in suspenders, he didn't want to make Remus go out and explore his sexuality. "I just. . . I'd be happy, if you decided, maybe, that it was me you'd want to be kissing."

"I still need to think," Remus said.

"Walk and think," Sirius said, swinging his suitcase as they stepped onto the bridge. "Do you think your mum'll have hot chocolate for us?"

"I certainly hope so," Remus said.

"Sing that song for me," Sirius said. "The one about not being afraid."

He didn't say, sing as much as you can while you still can. Love me as much as you can before the dark washes over us all. He tried to think that what he felt now would last: the rhythm of walking together over the bridge, in the snow; Remus' soul in the words of his song; and love overflowing in his own heart.

He would not be afraid.


: : : : : the end : : : : :





Common Rotation - Don't Let's Start: http://www.sendspace.com/file/p306f1
Fuel - We Three Kings: http://www.sendspace.com/file/7fjzos
Palace Brothers (Will Oldham) - I See A Darkness: http://www.sendspace.com/file/e044gx
Kommet, Ihr Hirten: http://www.sendspace.com/file/5kgyp4
Pete Morton - Shepherd's Song: http://www.sendspace.com/file/737v90
Snow Patrol - Chasing Cars: http://www.sendspace.com/file/0x4yu3
O Du Fröhliche: http://www.sendspace.com/file/2n33z6

Comments

[secretsolitaire.livejournal.com]

Ohh, lovely! I really enjoyed the quiet atmosphere of this, and the way the conversation post-kiss didn't go the way I expected it to (i.e. Remus didn't respond right away, didn't say, "Oh, I've been pining for you since fourth year!", etc.). It's always nice to see a fic avoid cliches. :-D

He didn't say, sing as much as you can while you still can. Love me as much as you can before the dark washes over us all.

*wibble*

[rufus.livejournal.com]

oh, how lovely.

Sirius stomping on Remus' shadow was especially delicious. and the cross-ver was deftly done.

Also, I, too, like that Remus needs time to think, but that he is not afraid.

[azureflight.livejournal.com]

He didn't say, sing as much as you can while you still can. Love me as much as you can before the dark washes over us all. He tried to think that what he felt now would last: the rhythm of walking together over the bridge, in the snow; Remus' soul in the words of his song; and love overflowing in his own heart.

He would not be afraid.

Oh. So lovely, and those last lines are just... :very small noise:

[passakiss.livejournal.com]

I don't even know why I didn't ask for sap. I love your sap. x) You pulled the whole thing off so well. I adore Sirius in this.

Oh, and carolling! And the hat! < 3 Haha, thank you so much!

And thank you for noticing my birthday! Although if you do this next year (and I really hope you do), I will be BARELY under the eighteen cut-off! Haha.

[busaikko]

Hey ya, sweetie! I just added the soundtrack. It's:
Common Rotation - Don't Let's Start: http://www.sendspace.com/file/p306f1
Fuel - We Three Kings: http://www.sendspace.com/file/7fjzos
Palace Brothers (Will Oldham) - I See A Darkness: http://www.sendspace.com/file/e044gx
Kommet, Ihr Hirten: http://www.sendspace.com/file/5kgyp4
Pete Morton - Shepherd's Song: http://www.sendspace.com/file/737v90
Snow Patrol - Chasing Cars: http://www.sendspace.com/file/0x4yu3
O Du Fröhliche: http://www.sendspace.com/file/2n33z6

... I actually posted this by mistake - I had forgotten that my posts wouldn't go into the queue. So it's *way* early for your birthday *wears silly hat anyway*

So, what you are saying is, if we did this next year, there would be 2 days at the end of the month when you could, theoetically, get smut? *strokes chin thoughtfully* Though this exchange doesn't seem to have that many naughty fics as it is....

I'm glad you liked the fic! As I said, I've no idea why it wanted to be a crossover... it just did. Domo!

[busaikko]

Thank you! I tend to torpedo cliches.... I'm glad you liked the atmosphere - I do love carol singing *g*

[busaikko]

I don't know how many Young People Today read the Dark Is Rising books, so was quite unsure about the crossover. But it demanded to be done....

Shall we pretend that we live in AU-land, and the outcome of all Remus' careful thinking will be good things and not bad? Oh, let's!

[busaikko]

Thank you! Just don't tell Sirius what happens in canon, okay? Denial can be a good thing!

[onehundredmoons.livejournal.com]

Hey Busaikko! Once again, you've written something so tender and exciting (the kiss) that I got the fluttery feeling in my chest... your writing does that to me pretty much without fail! Lovely, and thanks for the German carol! I've got a major weakness for both boychoirs and carols!

[busaikko]

Thank you! I'm glad you liked the kissing - I do so like hearing that I've made someone fluttery *is glad*

I've a lot of German Christmas music uploaded - here's the rest! (Hopefully will be uploading some S African later today)

O Freude Uber Freude: http://www.sendspace.com/file/au2lri
Es Ist Ein Ros' Entsprungen: http://www.sendspace.com/file/sn5ed6
Schlittenfahrt (Jingle Bells): http://www.sendspace.com/file/dewle7
O Tannenbaum: http://www.sendspace.com/file/6pg36b
Leise Rieselt Der Schnee: http://www.sendspace.com/file/jioq0p
Vom Himmel Hoch: http://www.sendspace.com/file/v8abg2
Suser Die Glocken Nie Klingen: http://www.sendspace.com/file/iosdkx
Stille Nacht: http://www.sendspace.com/file/a6eqi4

[minnow-53.livejournal.com]

I loved that! So solemn and sweet: I adore Sirius as supplicant... *drifts into daydream*

"My old nanny used to tell me stories about Muggles and the things they do. With their guns and their cars."

Very true. And rather sad.

[busaikko]

Thank you! We've had a run of bad Muggle news here for a while, I suspect some of that is bleeding over into my writing; whether better or worse than Dark wizards, I do not know, but I share Remus' amusement....

[rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com]

I just put my copy of The Dark is Rising now for a moment to check my flist and found this. I'm so glad I'm not the only one who finds the age similarity tempting.

The crossover worked beautifully and I was really impressed with the way the Stantons have grown up - lovely character work. Your Sirius is fabulous, as well - halfway between schoolboy and warweary. His film analogy made me cackle and his awkwardness was lovely - nice cliche reversal.

And this - Bran says your eyes remind him of a dog he owned, once - *flails with glee*

[busaikko]

Personally, I blame innerslytherin for mentioning her winter ritual of re-reading TDIR; it made me dig my copy out, and.... I'm glad you liked the cliche subversion - awkward Sirius makes me happy *g*

Thank you!

[onehundredmoons.livejournal.com]

Ah, you warm my heart! I don't have any South African Christmas music� though I know some of the bigger folk/freedom songs (Tshotsholoza, Siyahambi, Gabi Gabi, etc.) Moondagny was a middle school choir director in her pre-Mom life!

[rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com]

Now that's a wonderful tradition. I haven't reread it for a while, and reading it at Midwinter really adds to the impact, especially as it's my first Christmas in the Thames Valley for a couple of years.

[passakiss.livejournal.com]

Snow Patrol - Chasing Cars is one of the best S/R songs ever.

Haha, I'll probably still be too much of a prude to read/write them anyway. But it'd be nice to say that I could...

Once again, thanks so much. x)

[lls-mutant.livejournal.com]

I love the way you write boys- they're so boyish. The shadow stomping was an especially brilliant touch :) Absoolutely lovely little fic, and very realistic (well, as much as fic about wizards can be! ;).) Great stuff!

[busaikko]

You're welcome!

[busaikko]

*reader in the Thames Valley - winces a little*

Do let me know if I got anything wrong setting-wise, as I've never personally been anywhere along the Thames (except for London which was no help). My working subtitle for this was R and S along the R Hackensack.

Happy Midwinter Day, anyways, and enjoy your reading!

[busaikko]

Thank you! I teach, so I've very few illusions about the maturity of boys *g* (Most of my darkest fic is written between classes... it keeps me sane!)

[rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com]

*chuckles* You're safe - I'm a long way upriver. The books were always just close enough to my part of the world to feel familiar, but no more. I wrote about this part of the world last year and was quite dependent on Google Earth and Multimap.

[paulamcg.livejournal.com]

I can’t help being fascinated by your writing or resist repeating that I wish you wrote low-rated stories about Remus and Sirius more often (even though I shouldn’t complain, since I hardly publish any kind of fic often). In your fic there are always refreshing situations, settings and details. And lovely turns of phrase. This time, of course, the closing line and the previous paragraph stand out, but everything before that is lovely as well.

I’m glad the crossover mention didn’t scare me off. After the very opening had pulled me in, I actually forgot to worry about Dark Is Rising, which I don’t know, so I thought the new characters were OCs. I felt a bit disconcerted for a moment after the carol-singers appeared through your quick telling at the end of a rather loaded paragraph. But perhaps that showed your viewpoint character’s attitude. He did not really focus on these people (but on Remus, instead).

The different situations (at the beginning, in the middle and towards the end) seemed also somehow unrelated. Perhaps that contributes to the feel of realism in this piece, while it has something enchantingly dreamlike in its tone, too – something that makes me ramble when I’m not sure I should.

[magnetic-pole.livejournal.com]

This is so lovely and evocative, sweetie. I love fear accompanying bravery. Brava! Maggie

[such_heights]

Oh, this is just fabulous! I really, really enjoyed it.

Remus was in a sedate drama with wit and humour, and he was struggling with tortured dialogue that was most likely Continental and badly translated besides.

Had me giggling like a loon, that did.