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snow_blossoms
Dec. 20th, 2006 05:57 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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small_giftsTitle: Swept Away
Author:mysticlykoi
Written for:snow_blossoms
Rating: Er...I'd say just barely PG-13 and that's for the use of one bad word. XD;
Prompt: Decorating for Christmas and Remus' first Christmas sans everyone he loves.
Remus stared at the neat pile of boxes stacked in front of the bare tree. It had been approximately two hours and twenty six minutes since he had brought them out of the small storage space his apartment building had provided, and he had yet to so much as open them. He kept finding other things to distract himself with. Dusting, washing dishes, sweeping, turning the couch cushions, making his bed, reorganizing his various bookshelves in a way that didn’t necessarily suit him but nevertheless kept him occupied, all the while glancing at the boxes sitting patiently beside the tree that kept shedding needles everywhere.
But they make fake trees now, He thought to himself, frowning in disapproval at the messy floor under the tree. Muggles have them. I could-
A sudden, sharp stabbing in his chest made him freeze, his breath catching momentarily.
Sirius had never allowed anyone to even think of buying a fake tree. He could remember the argument as if it had taken place earlier that morning.
”Moony, I can’t believe what I’m hearing!” The mock-outraged voice rang painfully clear in his memory. “A fake tree, are you out of your mind? That’s- that’s an insult to baby Jesus, that’s what that is. And nevermind that, you wouldn’t have that great smell everywhere! And there’s no bothering with strategic placement of ornaments if you can just manipulate the branches however you want. You, sir, are trying to take the easy way out, and I won’t have it.” And with that, Sirius had dragged the cold, tired, and protesting Remus off to the nearest tree lot.
Tension lined every muscle in the werewolf’s body. His jaw was clenched, his eyebrows knit. He wrenched his eyes away from the tree.
But Sirius is in Azkaban now, far from caring about what kind of tree you’ve got propped up for the holidays.
The thought came fast, unwanted and bitter. Remus shook his head, as if to shake his thoughts right out of mind. Stop it, He told himself firmly. Just. Stop it. And, as he had done every day since James and Lily had died, since Peter had been blown up and Sirius carted off like the madman he had proven himself to be, he maintained a strict control of himself.
Remus stared at the boxes. The boxes stared back.
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” He snapped, forcing himself forward and taking the first box in hand, picking up a pair of scissors and slitting through the tape. “I did not just begin to personify Christmas boxes,” He muttered to himself as he folded back the cardboard flaps and removed the first layer of newspaper he had used to cushion the precious decorations.
“Oh…”
There they were. The small, familiar decorations Remus had been avoiding looking at all day, each of them touched with memories of the people he’d loved most in the world, all of them gone now, unreachable. Trembling fingers reached out to pick up a plain red orb, one of a set of twenty he had bought for the first tree he ever had away from both his parents and Hogwarts-
James, Sirius, and Peter had broken nine of them the same night he got them. Lily yelled, threatening to hex them if they didn’t stop throwing things and getting glass all over the floor, while Remus had quickly fixed each mess as it came with a wave of his wand. It was a miracle the tree ever managed to get properly decorated with all the fuss that went on that night.
Remus stood abruptly, setting the box down and going over to the tree to find a place for the red globe. His heart thudded dully, an all too familiar ache building in his chest. I just had to buy a ruddy tree, The werewolf thought to himself fiercely. A tree that I’d have to decorate, a stupid, pointless process, more trouble than it’s worth…
But he’d had to. In the end, Remus was a creature of habit, and he did what he felt he needed to in order to keep living. If he just kept moving, just kept his mind focused on something productive, he could let himself go numb; if he ever stopped or began to hesitate, he would latch on to memories too painful to bear and even harder to ignore.
So, when Christmas rolled around, he had gone out and got himself a tree and brought up the old, beloved ornaments along with the rest of the holiday decorations, because not doing so would be a break of routine, and routine was all that held Remus together these days.
It was with both hardened resolve and steeled nerve that Remus began to put up the ornaments, heart breaking more and more beneath the mechanical motions as each one brought another past moment to life.
This one, the two turtle doves- Lily had bought him a beautiful set of twelve ornaments that represented lyrics to a Muggle Christmas song. She had always hummed it to herself as she helped decorate the tree, a soothing note in the midst of the chaos that was loud young men with just a bit too much holiday cheer.
A hollow wooden reindeer, one James had taken upon himself to name- “Being kindred and all,” the wild haired man had grinned- had yet to find a place. After a moments consideration, Prongs Jr. was hanging from a branch near the top of the tree.
”I like this one,” Peter piped up every year as he hung the cloth angel holding a plainly wrapped gift. “I don’t know why I like it so much, I just do.” As if he needed some sort of explanation. Remus bit the inside of his cheek as he placed the angel towards the inside of the tree to rest on its trunk.
Turning to the box to grab the next ornament, he froze, amber eyes locking onto a flat, clear glass snowflake. Remus’ insides twisted. His chest tightened, his lungs and throat ached desperately, and he could feel the beginnings of a massive headache coming on, but there was nothing he could have done to prevent memory from swamping him.
”What’s that one you’re putting up?”
Sirius looked over at the pajama clad Remus standing in the hallway; everyone else had already gone home. As soon as the holiday season started Sirius had come to stay with Remus, claiming that coming home to an empty apartment was just not acceptable during Christmas and that he’d do them both a favor and just move in for a bit. Remus had no objections to this. He got lonely most of the time anyway, having still not adjusted from sharing a room with three other boys, his best friends, to living on his own.
Grey eyes flickered from Remus, to the tree, then to the snowflake in his hand. “Just a snowflake I brought with me,” He tried to shrug off the curious stare.
Remus didn’t ask why Sirius hadn’t brought it out while they had been decorating the tree earlier. Sirius had a habit of keeping odd things to himself, small, simple things that he somehow gave a dark air of mystery and importance to, because odd and simple as they were, they meant something to him that he never seemed quite willing to admit openly.
“Where’d you get it?” Remus asked as he came over to get a better look at the ornament. Sirius hesitated. Then, turning his gaze back to the tree, he shrugged again.
“Nicked it from the Common Room tree last Christmas.”
Sympathy and understanding hit Remus at the same time. Hogwarts had a special place in everyone’s hearts, but it was a true haven for Sirius in a way it hadn’t been for the rest of them. Having to leave it had been hard; the boy had been prone to even more unpredictable mood swings during their last year, disappearing at seemingly random moments to be found later somewhere on the grounds just sitting, sometimes having a smoke, staring off into space.
Remus didn’t need to ask why he’d felt compelled to take a piece of their old home with him when they left. Sirius didn’t need to ask if Remus had understood. They knew.
“Where were you thinking of putting it, then?”
Sirius chose one of the few remaining empty branches and hung the cherished snowflake. Remus muttered a charm, sending small flashes of light to twine around the tree and its branches, illuminating the otherwise dark corner of the living room.
Grey eyes smiled into amber, making Remus’ heart skip several beats, his stomach squirming pleasantly.
“It’s finished”
Slowly, almost gingerly, Remus picked up the ornament and began to lift it to the tree, trying to ignore the bile rising in his throat at the memory, at the knowledge that Sirius was now nothing but a lying, traitorous bastard, that he deserved so much more than the very worst Azkaban had to offer, and that somewhere buried far beneath his feelings of horror and sickening hate, Remus still loved him-
The sound of shattering glass destroyed the tense silence of the apartment.
He didn’t have to look to see the broken memory scattered across the floor. Minutes ticked by as he stood there, unable to move, mind racing until his thoughts seemed to blur together, until he might as well have not been thinking at all. Then, finally, he sunk to the ground, curling in on himself as he felt his control snap in two.
It was days before Remus could move from the spot he’d fallen. Another day before he could manage to get out of bed. Then, on Christmas Eve, he faced the awaiting tree and boxes once again. An hour saw to all the ornaments being hung with numb fingers and shaking hands. Without missing a beat, Remus got a dustpan and broom, swept up the shards of glass still littering his floor, and dumped them into the trash bin. Hollow eyes watched the lid snap shut on Sirius’ keepsake.
“It’s finished.”
Author:
mysticlykoiWritten for:
snow_blossomsRating: Er...I'd say just barely PG-13 and that's for the use of one bad word. XD;
Prompt: Decorating for Christmas and Remus' first Christmas sans everyone he loves.
Remus stared at the neat pile of boxes stacked in front of the bare tree. It had been approximately two hours and twenty six minutes since he had brought them out of the small storage space his apartment building had provided, and he had yet to so much as open them. He kept finding other things to distract himself with. Dusting, washing dishes, sweeping, turning the couch cushions, making his bed, reorganizing his various bookshelves in a way that didn’t necessarily suit him but nevertheless kept him occupied, all the while glancing at the boxes sitting patiently beside the tree that kept shedding needles everywhere.
But they make fake trees now, He thought to himself, frowning in disapproval at the messy floor under the tree. Muggles have them. I could-
A sudden, sharp stabbing in his chest made him freeze, his breath catching momentarily.
Sirius had never allowed anyone to even think of buying a fake tree. He could remember the argument as if it had taken place earlier that morning.
”Moony, I can’t believe what I’m hearing!” The mock-outraged voice rang painfully clear in his memory. “A fake tree, are you out of your mind? That’s- that’s an insult to baby Jesus, that’s what that is. And nevermind that, you wouldn’t have that great smell everywhere! And there’s no bothering with strategic placement of ornaments if you can just manipulate the branches however you want. You, sir, are trying to take the easy way out, and I won’t have it.” And with that, Sirius had dragged the cold, tired, and protesting Remus off to the nearest tree lot.
Tension lined every muscle in the werewolf’s body. His jaw was clenched, his eyebrows knit. He wrenched his eyes away from the tree.
But Sirius is in Azkaban now, far from caring about what kind of tree you’ve got propped up for the holidays.
The thought came fast, unwanted and bitter. Remus shook his head, as if to shake his thoughts right out of mind. Stop it, He told himself firmly. Just. Stop it. And, as he had done every day since James and Lily had died, since Peter had been blown up and Sirius carted off like the madman he had proven himself to be, he maintained a strict control of himself.
Remus stared at the boxes. The boxes stared back.
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” He snapped, forcing himself forward and taking the first box in hand, picking up a pair of scissors and slitting through the tape. “I did not just begin to personify Christmas boxes,” He muttered to himself as he folded back the cardboard flaps and removed the first layer of newspaper he had used to cushion the precious decorations.
“Oh…”
There they were. The small, familiar decorations Remus had been avoiding looking at all day, each of them touched with memories of the people he’d loved most in the world, all of them gone now, unreachable. Trembling fingers reached out to pick up a plain red orb, one of a set of twenty he had bought for the first tree he ever had away from both his parents and Hogwarts-
James, Sirius, and Peter had broken nine of them the same night he got them. Lily yelled, threatening to hex them if they didn’t stop throwing things and getting glass all over the floor, while Remus had quickly fixed each mess as it came with a wave of his wand. It was a miracle the tree ever managed to get properly decorated with all the fuss that went on that night.
Remus stood abruptly, setting the box down and going over to the tree to find a place for the red globe. His heart thudded dully, an all too familiar ache building in his chest. I just had to buy a ruddy tree, The werewolf thought to himself fiercely. A tree that I’d have to decorate, a stupid, pointless process, more trouble than it’s worth…
But he’d had to. In the end, Remus was a creature of habit, and he did what he felt he needed to in order to keep living. If he just kept moving, just kept his mind focused on something productive, he could let himself go numb; if he ever stopped or began to hesitate, he would latch on to memories too painful to bear and even harder to ignore.
So, when Christmas rolled around, he had gone out and got himself a tree and brought up the old, beloved ornaments along with the rest of the holiday decorations, because not doing so would be a break of routine, and routine was all that held Remus together these days.
It was with both hardened resolve and steeled nerve that Remus began to put up the ornaments, heart breaking more and more beneath the mechanical motions as each one brought another past moment to life.
This one, the two turtle doves- Lily had bought him a beautiful set of twelve ornaments that represented lyrics to a Muggle Christmas song. She had always hummed it to herself as she helped decorate the tree, a soothing note in the midst of the chaos that was loud young men with just a bit too much holiday cheer.
A hollow wooden reindeer, one James had taken upon himself to name- “Being kindred and all,” the wild haired man had grinned- had yet to find a place. After a moments consideration, Prongs Jr. was hanging from a branch near the top of the tree.
”I like this one,” Peter piped up every year as he hung the cloth angel holding a plainly wrapped gift. “I don’t know why I like it so much, I just do.” As if he needed some sort of explanation. Remus bit the inside of his cheek as he placed the angel towards the inside of the tree to rest on its trunk.
Turning to the box to grab the next ornament, he froze, amber eyes locking onto a flat, clear glass snowflake. Remus’ insides twisted. His chest tightened, his lungs and throat ached desperately, and he could feel the beginnings of a massive headache coming on, but there was nothing he could have done to prevent memory from swamping him.
”What’s that one you’re putting up?”
Sirius looked over at the pajama clad Remus standing in the hallway; everyone else had already gone home. As soon as the holiday season started Sirius had come to stay with Remus, claiming that coming home to an empty apartment was just not acceptable during Christmas and that he’d do them both a favor and just move in for a bit. Remus had no objections to this. He got lonely most of the time anyway, having still not adjusted from sharing a room with three other boys, his best friends, to living on his own.
Grey eyes flickered from Remus, to the tree, then to the snowflake in his hand. “Just a snowflake I brought with me,” He tried to shrug off the curious stare.
Remus didn’t ask why Sirius hadn’t brought it out while they had been decorating the tree earlier. Sirius had a habit of keeping odd things to himself, small, simple things that he somehow gave a dark air of mystery and importance to, because odd and simple as they were, they meant something to him that he never seemed quite willing to admit openly.
“Where’d you get it?” Remus asked as he came over to get a better look at the ornament. Sirius hesitated. Then, turning his gaze back to the tree, he shrugged again.
“Nicked it from the Common Room tree last Christmas.”
Sympathy and understanding hit Remus at the same time. Hogwarts had a special place in everyone’s hearts, but it was a true haven for Sirius in a way it hadn’t been for the rest of them. Having to leave it had been hard; the boy had been prone to even more unpredictable mood swings during their last year, disappearing at seemingly random moments to be found later somewhere on the grounds just sitting, sometimes having a smoke, staring off into space.
Remus didn’t need to ask why he’d felt compelled to take a piece of their old home with him when they left. Sirius didn’t need to ask if Remus had understood. They knew.
“Where were you thinking of putting it, then?”
Sirius chose one of the few remaining empty branches and hung the cherished snowflake. Remus muttered a charm, sending small flashes of light to twine around the tree and its branches, illuminating the otherwise dark corner of the living room.
Grey eyes smiled into amber, making Remus’ heart skip several beats, his stomach squirming pleasantly.
“It’s finished”
Slowly, almost gingerly, Remus picked up the ornament and began to lift it to the tree, trying to ignore the bile rising in his throat at the memory, at the knowledge that Sirius was now nothing but a lying, traitorous bastard, that he deserved so much more than the very worst Azkaban had to offer, and that somewhere buried far beneath his feelings of horror and sickening hate, Remus still loved him-
The sound of shattering glass destroyed the tense silence of the apartment.
He didn’t have to look to see the broken memory scattered across the floor. Minutes ticked by as he stood there, unable to move, mind racing until his thoughts seemed to blur together, until he might as well have not been thinking at all. Then, finally, he sunk to the ground, curling in on himself as he felt his control snap in two.
It was days before Remus could move from the spot he’d fallen. Another day before he could manage to get out of bed. Then, on Christmas Eve, he faced the awaiting tree and boxes once again. An hour saw to all the ornaments being hung with numb fingers and shaking hands. Without missing a beat, Remus got a dustpan and broom, swept up the shards of glass still littering his floor, and dumped them into the trash bin. Hollow eyes watched the lid snap shut on Sirius’ keepsake.
“It’s finished.”
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Date: 2006-12-25 06:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-25 08:40 pm (UTC)Thanks for commenting. ♥ I'm glad you liked it.
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Date: 2006-12-25 07:28 pm (UTC)That hurt. But it hurt so good.
Nngghhhh. Love you, sweetie.
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Date: 2006-12-25 08:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-25 08:54 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2006-12-31 07:35 am (UTC)And I'm so glad you like it! ♥ I was really hoping it'd go over well.
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Date: 2007-01-03 04:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-03 05:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-04 02:01 pm (UTC)