Once This Is All Over We'll Be A Proper Family. You'll See ; Sirius Black - Tumblr Posts
C.P. Cavafy, from The City (tr. by Edmund Keeley & Philip Sherrard)
temptation creeps from the corner of his view, and there’s a second there—bitter, held in time like the world seen from the bottom of a lake in which sirius considers truth and the possibility of speaking out. you know, just telling him. say plain and honest that yes, he’s been fooling around between quidditch practices and increasingly dumb ideas to keep him on the move; constant buzz and roaring laugh. that he’s been making every living effort to avoid the thoughts in his head, the last screaming rounds with his mom and the way his father’s words on paper felt like he was getting there; the very end of his patience, at last.
so yeah—he’s been doing things, and there wasn’t a thing in the world that could trick him into thinking that the boy sitting in front of him wouldn’t care or understand. nothing that can make him have any less trust than the ungodly amount he already feels towards him. and yet—when he opens his mouth ( tentative, a breath drawn in that never finds its way out ) what makes him abandon every intent in that direction is the look in the other’s eyes—the growing mountain of gold and colored papers that had once contained his chocolate stash, the sigh he allowed and over all of it—quick, yet deep installed at the base of his chest where once had been all his worries, sat guilt. god, how was it not his fault? they’ve known about the full moon nights for almost three years now; time enough to do the right maths and not be the worst friend in the whole history of hogwarts and beyond.
❝ oh you know, keeping things interesting out there now that you’ve decided to make some confectioner’s dream come true. shouldn’t they make you part of the staff to this point? you have like half of the store in here. ❞ wide smile and a little laugh that made his shoulder tremble, especially after summoning one of the wrappers to his hand with the sole intention of making an elegant throw towards his head ( softly, playfully ). sirius made his way to his bed, letting himself fall in the space beside remus with arms crossed and looking at him the way he only allowed himself when it was the few of them; sincerely, with less barriers. a little of his own guilt peeking over from his slightly arched brows. ❝ any way i can help make the stress go away? ❞ he wonders, a moment of silence before another hushed laugh dares to escape the cage of his mouth. ❝ assuming you don’t have plans to spend another three romantic hours with a chocolate bar hidden somewhere for when i leave, which—i guess i can’t understand! but—i mean, we could… go stretch our legs? maybe nap? ❞ a look down, then up most innocently. ❝ ...see if we can charm every chair in the library so they start screaming and running when someone goes trying to sit in them…? it’s exam season, moony. i mean, try to picture that one. ❞
miscellaneous lyric writing prompts. / accepting!
@choicelesshope asked: “ i’ve been too busy. i should’ve noticed. “ ( sirius to remus! )
You know what you shouldn’t do on the day of a full moon? Stress. You know what also you shouldn’t do either? Stress-binged on chocolate. Exams were coming, and Remus couldn’t stop stressing over them, and then he doubled up the stress by stressing over the full moon. He had no idea of the impact it would have on the monster inside of him. But he’d eventually will find out soon enough. But right now, Remus was throwing away his thirteenth chocolate wrapper into the bin.
Remus sent Sirius a look before sighing. “No, this is normal. I always eat my entire stash in one sitting…” He murmurs sarcastically. “I’m just stressed, not your fault that you didn’t notice.” Remus shrugged. It wasn’t his fault, but that didn’t stop Remus feeling a bit jealous of the fact that Sirius hadn’t noticed at all. “What were you doing anyway that made you too busy?” Revision? Nah, Sirius usually leaves it at the last second like he does with his homework. “Come on, mate, you can tell me.”
Out of the doubt that fills my mind I somehow find You and I collide.
@betterdcyz said: “ you suck less than most people . ” ( remus @ sirius! )
sitting up in less than a blink—eyes wide and his mouth getting even wider, if he thinks that’s something he can just say and get away with, all about the expression of sirius orion black immediately alerts him of what’s to come. ❝ suck less? ❞ he begins, little to no consideration for the other boys who might or not be sleeping at these late hours of the night. ❝ suck less? ❞ he repeats, a pillow in his hand being thrown to his companion so he could start feeling the consequences of his treacherous acts. ❝ i’ll have you know i’m at the very least an absolute pleasure to have around. i’m—i mean—i made you laugh five minutes ago! ❞
he’d know, god, he’d know. even snorting was a rare experience from where he came from. the kind of phenomena you’d miss if you blinked at the wrong time—something... he had greedily hoarded from the first shared joke at the beginning of their school time together.
and still, sirius looks at him not with annoyment but the daring smile of who sees a challenge upon them. ❝ i won’t allow that. ❞ he states, holding his gaze for a short while before concerning his hands with the wrapping of another assorted sours bag. ❝ i can’t, you have to tell me now. what can i do to impress one remus lupin to the point of actual recognition? ❞
he took one piece, offering the content to the other before adding; bit quieter this time. ❝ come now, there must be something i can try, right? ❞
It’s cruel that I spent so much time with James and Lily, and you so little.
*in a haunted house* *walls start bleeding and spell ６ ６ ６*
*pulls out sharpie and makes it ６9 ６9 ６9*
Anger was better than tears, better than grief, better than guilt.
Arianne Martell, A Feast For Crows. (via queenmakcr-archived)
( remus )
To prod at Sirius’ ego is the equivalent of poking a dog with a really long stick and then throwing it for your own amusement. ( & it was worth it. ) Remus sat there, his legs crossed. “——i said what i said, you suck less, you should be honoured.” He pressed his lips together to suppress the feeling of giddiness. He failed when Sirius launched a pillow at him: “Haha!” that hits him smack in the forehead and plops down onto his lap. “Okaaaaaay, you do a bit of a tidy job when it comes to sucking less.”
The welsh boy wrapped his arms around the pillow, honey-brown eyes staring at his friend. “But in my defense, that was five minutes. You sucked even less then.” Remus had a similar smile to Sirius’, just less daring and more amused by their bickering. He liked this ; it was comforting to say at least, and Remus thought that his scars would scare anyone off. “Hm? Impress me?” He rests his chin - a small scar just under it hidden away by the soft material - on the pillow and blinks.
He wrapped his arms tighter, thinking to himself and humming softly. As Remus was contemplating on what Sirius could do, he reached out, said his thanks softly and rummaged his hand through the bag to grab a candy. “Have you ever tried to write on someone’s face??? A bit of a muggle prank, if you will.”
❝ gaining points then? lupin you should have told me this was all part of a test ❞ it came out as more hurt-sounding than it should be, and the grin on his face afterward is a sign of how much he is liking to walk in the skin of the carefree, silly boy he can truly be. no—strictly prepared politeness and protocols, no rehearsed serene look on his face. just shared jokes and shared candy in a bed that’s not his. a smile that doesn’t come out right away but it’s just there, promised but not offered in the mouth of the boy sitting in front of him; choosing not to sleep.
❝ writing? ❞ a moment after, he can’t help but repeat—couple of quick blinks and his head slightly tilted to the side; eyes searching for an answer in the other’s face that he can’t quite grasp for now, much as he tries. true—when it came to games and pranks he wasn’t set to be the most versed kid in the world: a life separated from other children his age and a mother who wouldn’t allow nonsense like that, made him and his brother more of makeshift inventors when it came to passing time ( reading to each other, make-believe after lights went off ). and if you added the muggle factor to any of that ( if he dared so tentatively called it like that ) he hardly could see a reason why writing on someone’s face could be considered any fun.
not that he’d admit so easily, no. his growing pride definitely not ready to take a strike like that from someone as admittedly cool as remus lupin, from all things.
❝ yeah, sure. that—that’d be something. ❞ he tried to pass it off as a mere difficulty with attention a minute ago, something to do with how late it is, how tired he might be to catch the whole sentence at first ( come on! you have minutes now, get your head on the task, black ) ❝ now that does mean we have two candidates—or victims, should i say, to decorate at our will. would you—care to choose which one goes first, or should i…? ❞
quill, he’s gonna need his quill now, isn’t he?
“ like — you stole those words right out of my mouth, that’s how i feel. ”
( halloween treat for @choicelesshope )
it’s been years since he knew about his secret—many more since he’s been close to the kid he shared a room with since hogwarts day one, and only a few months since something akin to a plan surged to help moony ( their moony ) in those terrible days of the month. and yet—no matter how much he’s been reading, thinking, imagining and planning about the whole deal, it never ( never ) made it any easier to bring up the subject with him. not once the courage to ask him what he needed, what it was like, what was he thinking when the date came close or those days after it was all over—afraid, too paralized to step on the wrong side and ruin what they’ve built through the years—through endless pranks together and nights shared at the common room.
and this—this was hardly any different. nothing but an echo of the past; a room apart and his loud quietness making him forget about time and words.
and perhaps this would have been one of those days in which he only nodded and agreed with him ‘ sure, i’ll catch you there ‘. worries about the darkness in his eyes or the fragile breathing forced to the back of his head until next month, yet—something leaps out of him in the moment he states the last of his answers; skittish, determined. ❝ i’ll go for you! ❞ two steps in his direction, wide-eyed. ❝ i’ll go—i’ll… i’ll take notes, down to the last word, explain it all to you, i could— ❞
he presses his lips together and tries to ground the impulse taking over him, genuinely eager to help yet knowing him enough to know that being helped isn’t always the easiest thing for him. himself. sometimes both of them. ❝ come on, we could even pull an all-nighter if you want, drag james and pete, quiz each other after you—you know… ❞ sleep? actually recover from all of this? words got stuck again but he hoped—prayed that he could understand he meant well with this.
short starter for // @choicelesshope
should he throw the shoe at sirius? no. mostly because then he’ll have to get it back. and half the reason he wants to throw the shoe at him at all is the level of exhaustion that currently has his shoulders hunched, a low unsteady breath as he tries to draw up the last dregs of both patience and strength. it isn’t sirius’ fault, it’s no one’s fault. fenrir’s fault. that’s whose fault it is. he amends quickly to himself. he’s just tired. everything bothers him when he’s tired.
‘ i’ve got to get to class. i can’t miss anymore days. i’ll get too far behind. ‘ he is half mumbling as he gives up on shoes for the moment, reverting to pullign another jumper on to keep warm. after the full moons he’s always ravaged by the pervading weakness in his body. he hates it. and sometimes it makes him hate himself that little bit more.
‘ i’m just tired. that’s all. ‘ not even really listening to sirius as he aims again lace the worn converse.
( alice )
Alice returned his grin with a grim smile of her own, eyebrows twitching self-deprecatingly. But she shook her head in response to his unspoken offer, sighing— “Healers don’t want me drinking for a while yet. Have to take at least some of their advice.” Especially after checking herself out of St. Mungo’s months earlier than they’d wanted.
She considered him for a moment, eyes skimming over his shoulders and the taut energy that lingered there. It didn’t surprise her how he’d tensed almost into a fighting stance when she’d started talking; in all honesty, it was the honest answer that surprised her. Alice had still been in the hospital for the battle at the Department of Mysteries, but in the months since, the other members of the new Order had filled her in on enough of the details, and… well, she wouldn’t have understood it fifteen years ago, but Sirius’ temper now made perfect sense to her. Some things were harder to live through.
But here they were, out of time in a way their peers would never really know, out of place with very little do contribute to a war everyone else seemed so prepared to fight again. It made her want to scream, and maybe never stop. It made her want to pull Sirius into her arms and just hold on tight to the last friend she could imagine would understand.
“Yeah, I’ve seen Neville a few times.” Only once at the hospital, which she barely remembered, but now that he was back with Augusta for the summer she was making time to visit. “I don’t really know how to talk to him, to be honest. But he’s—” She swallowed thickly, working to find her voice. “He’s wonderful. Couldn’t be prouder of the young man he’s turned into.”
Her eyes flickered back to Sirius’ face, and she smiled softly. “’Ve heard nothing but good things about Harry, as well.”
he can feel the edge of his mouth rising; just slightly, a phantom of acknowledgement as the whiskey touches his lips again and he retraces the bits of knowledge of her situation: what’s been said about bellatrix’s attack ( heard and not inquired, the event too close to episodes he couldn’t find the strength to open up just yet ) her coma, the fifteen years of it. what it would have been like for him to wake up surrounded by strangers and the terrifying fact that, in all that time, the world had simply gone on with its course. not in awful long stretches beyond the window, but in a violent snap, the kind of injustice you can’t register until it's done.
and perhaps that was it—what he found more disturbing about it all, the idea of that weightless state, the void silence and paralized limbs of coma much more dreadful ( and by far scarier ) than any of his rotten days locked in a prison cell ( and you’d have to consider, he couldn’t stand more than two seconds going back to those memories these days, five if you made the correct approach, perhaps ).
❝ brave, i’ll drink to that. ❞ he conceded, a certain spark of excitement as he settled on the knowledge of how stubbornly strong alice longbottom had to be to live on another day on this particular kind of hell with no help ( he wouldn’t, of that much he was comfortably sure, somehow ). ❝ though i have to say— ❞ his voice, while in an attempt to sound serious, did carry a touch of charm as he walked the few steps that separated him from the nearest couch, dropping himself there as he continued with his initial formulation. ❝ —if you've been told only good things about james’s boy i’m afraid you’ve been lied to, alice. boy is a perfect mess, i’m telling you. ❞ and he did say so with an infinite amount of love. yes, he adored the little imp, and he loved even more any opportunity he had to revisit the stories he’s been hearing about him ( even more now that those could be needed to lighten up the mood, worried as he became about the effect of his question on her ) ❝ did anyone here told you about the ‘ muggle auntie floating out of the window’ thing yet, or…? ‘cause i might think is one of my favourites so far ❞
oh he was eager to fill her in about that one. if she wanted, of course.
( moony )
Sirius’ laugh was contagious. Remus couldn’t help but to laugh along. He liked seeing Sirius like that, giddy with adrenaline, no matter whether the operation had been successful or not. Just the mere getaway was often enough to be amazingly fun.
“Why would he ask me, Pads?” Remus asked, brows arched, his face a display of absolute innocence and dutifulness. “I’m a prefect and I have never done anything wrong in my entire life.” Just as he said that, he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his cloak and came to sit on the desk next to the desk Sirius sat on. He placed a cigarette between his lips and lighted it with his wand, then locked the door to the classroom with his wand.
“Did you manage to get back what you were looking for before you turned his office into a public loo?” Remus asked amused. “I was just finishing my rounds. The plan was to go outside for a smoke but now you got me smoking in a classroom. Shame on you, Sirius. Luckily a seventh year showed me a spell that freshens up the air and gets rid of the smoke so nobody will know.”
The moonlight was shining through the windows, dipping the room into a silvery glow. “Found a few Slytherins doing god knows what in the trophy room and someone left a lot of yarn for all the cats in the castle. Not sure if I’m supposed to pick that up but it’s kinda cute no?” Remus loved cats - aside from Mrs. Norris that rotten little snitch, but cats didn’t love Remus, much to his dismay.
❝ prankster, smuggler, evil mastermind AND a liar, wow—the list never ends with you, does it? ❞ as he’d ever do anything to suppress a single trait that constituted the marvel that he was. no—not in a million years, no. no when the excited beatings of his heart, the adrenaline-injected muscle running inside his chest, was filling his veins with a warmth and joy less explained by the marathon he had been involved in, and which, instead, could be dangerously related ( unbeknown to him, with that certainty you could only get years from now, looking back ) to the curve of the other’s mouth, the way he held that cigarette like it wouldn’t kill him to wonder how those lips might feel pressed to him, and the elegant flick of his hand as he continued setting the stage for their improvised reunion.
not—that he lingered on that image, not that he got distracted enough to lose his train of thought for just an instant, of course.
❝ nah, room might be protected somehow. mean it made sense you can’t accio anything from the outside but i had a little hope you’d be allowed to use that one inside the actual office. turns out it’s knowing exactly where to look for or having like an hour to search all the drawers in the place ❞ a playful push from his foot to his leg due to his accusation, he tapped his arm with the backside of his hand ( one, two times ) signaling a request for a cig or a smoke from his, and taking a little pause until he felt the bitter cloud traveling his lungs in and out.
❝ and how come you’ve never taken me on a romantic patrol with you, uh? ❞ he performed for him, heartfelt staging of betrayal as he added to this image. ❝ i could do all sorts of crowd control and personalized hexes if you asked me, think of that! your own ace up your sleeve, the best duo that ever walked the school corridors, law on our side. ❞ a brief pause, only marked by him turning to the cigarette once more. ❝ except for the cat part, on that you're on your own bud. ❞ beyond negotiable to this point, once and again his strange rivalry with felines only holding a promise of another scratch over his most protected and beautiful skin ( or worse than that, the multiple attempts of those creatures in messing with his things—specifically his things! damn those imps ).
( prongs )
What wasn’t Petunia’s problem with him? Lily had warned him about her sister’s feelings toward magic and the wizarding world, but now that he’s actually met the woman, James suspects that Petunia could find a way to dislike everything about him, whether it was his magic or his money or his hair or… or worst of all, the idea that he loved her sister.
The thought pulls a seething grimace over his face, and James swallows thickly. “She just wanted one civil dinner, you know?”
He does know —James is aware Sirius must understand Lily’s complicated mess of feelings about her sister better than he ever can,— but it has to be said. It just… “And they were complete assholes,” he agrees.
Lily deserves better —the best— and as much as it burns him up to admit it, he can’t give it to her. Can’t convince her sister to see how wonderful she is. Couldn’t even sit through one meal with his soon-to-be in-laws without picking a fight.
“Don’t give me ideas,” he sighs, very nearly grinning at the image of Vernon Dursley screeching in fury and betrayal at his own stupid precious vehicle. Merlin, it is tempting to enact that small, petty vengeance on the git. He deserves it and worse.
Lily might be upset, but she didn’t need to know…
“Or do,” James corrects himself, mind impulsively made up. “Who’s to say the damned thing isn’t due for some serious maintenance, anyhow, right?”
others would admit, sirius had turned into quite a soldier under the Order’s commands: always ready to commit and comply to any need others might have, hardly ever complaining about long watches or taking the burden from injured teammates and superiors. and yet—while he hadn’t missed their old life ( focused as he was in other things, big plans on how the future would be ) sirius felt immediately possessed by a rush of exhilaration, the invincibility of being a teen, and how it was to be no more than a 14-year old kid in that gryffindor dorm, past midnight jumping out of bed and three friends ready to play their part on their biggest plan so far. mischief all over his grin, a spark in the eyes that already delighted on the tantrum his idea would produce.
❝ oh, how would we know, james? my very-wizardly broom HAS NEVER known of such needs. ❞ he held himself long enough for the phrase to come out in a serious tone before turning to his child-like laughter, the eagerness in his voice as he stood up and started to summon his things from all around the room.
❝ okey i’m ready, what about—apparating us a couple of blocks away in case dear vernon is still up taking the trash or something? i could do with a quick look around if it comes to an emergency running somehow. ❞ if lily ever told him about where his sister and husband were living these days, he never fully registered the address in his mind. no, side-along apparition seemed the most effective path for this one, aside from a brief consideration about their getaway plan should it come to that ( the invisibility cloak no longer capable of veiling the two of them to perform their duties as it once did, unfortunately )
❝ and how long had those been married by the way? NO, BETTER THAN THAT, please tell me you know anything about how they met each other, i love hearing things that would make any of my bad decisions seem like tiny happy accidents in comparison ❞ his leather jacket on him and a quick look at the mirror to check if his hair was okay, sure—this was all about not being seen, but damned if sirius black wouldn’t make sure to make a dazzling impression if it ever came to being caught.
( alice )
Alice winced as he touched her shoulder, breath leaving her chest in a sudden, shaky sigh, but she didn’t pull away from the kiss in her hair, and after a moment her hand came up to squeeze his wrist.
“I’m sure they are.” It came out almost hollow— true as it was, she couldn’t say whether it was reassuring. She was proud of her son, of course, brave as his father had ever been and good as any mother could hope for, but it was a terrifying kind of pride. One that made her heart ache. If she’d had her way, Neville never would’ve gone back to Hogwarts. ( It had been a months-long argument, both of them as bull-headed as they were; she didn’t know whether she was proud or a little chagrined about that, either. ) But where else was he meant to go? Treacherous as the school might be now, at least they were unlikely to kill him… which was more than they could say for Harry.
How had they ended up like this, the weight of so much on their children’s shoulders?
When she finally turned her head to look back up at Sirius, she managed a soft half-smile, wan though it was. “Been up,” she admitted. “A few hours, I think…”
Two years since she’d reawoken, the healers’ best guess was that the the bouts of shallow, radiant pain that still occasionally were never going away; during the day the aching and tension were easier to ignore than at night, when there wasn’t work to push herself through and only spiraling worry to occupy her mind.
“You managed any sleep tonight?” she asked, scooting over to make room for… probably the only person she could stomach trying to talk with right now, she realized. Funny how grateful you could be for someone who understood, even if you’d never wish that pain on anyone.
he remained like that—longer than he had intended to, hand on her shoulder and thumb rubbing circles while he dwelled on those four words of her. ‘ i’m sure they are ’ i’m sure they’re not dead, i’m sure there’s some hope to address despite it all. he’s not sure, instead, of what her thoughts around this idea really are, but—if anything, he knows he’s partly a liar for the things he said out loud a minute ago. a well-intended attempt to cheer her up; hope he’d wanted to write under his skin. someone else’s words when all he did while confined in his head was to imagine the worst, and a spell he recited in case it made any change in the world out there: let them be safe, please. let them be brave, and strong, and come out alive and almost unscarred. god, he’d exchange anything for them to have a better shot once all of this was over. once the war was done.
but what good would do to infect her with the dark waters of his worry? alice smiles at him, and he knows that if she had been any other, he would have done it, he would have laid his thoughts unfiltered for others to bear; out of weariness, out of irritation. and while it wasn’t a precaution he took with her frailty on mind ( instead, sirius thought of her as the strongest of them both, a confident he could be honest with, more times than not ) it was a result of what had been growing between them in these improvised meetings, that feeling of safety that surrounded him whenever they could steal a moment like this.
she was a refuge in this storm, and he honoured that with every scrap of kindness he could collect for her.
❝ few hours! am i sensing a reached milestone somewhere in there? perhaps… an hour of deep sleep, hm? ❞ he added while making his way to the front of the couch and dropping himself at her side; brotherly teasing in the way he miscalculated enough to land a little over her, despite all the room she had made for his commodity. ❝ nah, hid in my room shortly after dinner so molly couldn’t insist on ‘ what a help am i drying the plates for her, faster than she’s ever done it! ’ ❞ he laughed to himself just a little, remembering that lady’s motherly instinct trying to cover all fronts in this house whenever she came to visit. ❝ i can see the intention, i really do, but i’ve been shit at household magic my whole life. this place would go down in a day if it was only me taking care of it ❞
he took a moment to massage the muscles right above his right knee, the very ones that had been bothering him almost all day since he woke up. ❝ and you? please tell me you have an idea of what we could use to pass some time, i’m this close to take up knitting just so i can have something excitingly new in my life ❞
( moony )
@choicelesshope· sent in: " it’s not the same without you. “ ( sirius to remus! ) ( accepting! )
“——I know, I know, but I promise I’ll be there for the next prank.” His honey-brown eyes softened at the words as he gazed at Sirius. It’s not the same without you. His heart happens to skip a beat. “Just caught up with revision, and homework. So how was it? The prank? You and James did tell me you were going to do a prank on the Slytherin Quidditch Team? Was it lush?”
could he notice how childish he was behaving right now? how, where there was a big opportunity to shine, to own the strokes of genius and commitment that had taken to perform their prank, sirius black was all slightly pouted lips and averted eyes, discontent against remus’s sweet encouragement. for fine! fine, he knows. he knows how important classes are for the other and how it should have been understandable that a stuff with a deadline could make for valid justification. and still—now and back then, it was almost impossible to disconnect from that bitter note, that missing gap that had made him turn and turn again hoping to see remus there ( brilliant, moony! in hushed laughter, his quick eyes analyzing everything, the proximity of him ).
and all at the same time, how could he remain mad when he could feel his smile burning just from the side; him waiting for what he had to say?
❝ it was fine, i guess. ❞ he mutters, hand busy toying with one of his quills as if studying its structure was the most interesting thing in the world. a pause, and though he fought a little against it a smile didn’t take too long until it creeped up his mouth ( images going back to him, james’s victory laugh when all went according to plan ). ❝ they never saw it coming though, one moment they were discussing god knows what down there and the next it’s all screams and people rolling all over the grass not knowing what's happening anymore. it was perfect. ❞ nothing too extraordinary though, a midnight brainstorm after a petty encounter at the great hall, and suddenly every slytherin choosing to mount on their broom was forced to hang upside down, their equipment refusing to let them sit straight no matter how much they tried.
❝ you really have to study this much? we could have done your homework afterwards! ❞
@betterdcyz said: remus @ sirius: 🧣 – to wrap a scarf around my muse’s neck to beat the cold
the four of them weren’t allowed to be on the field under this kind of circumstances, but god—how could one resist? fresh fallen snow for as far as your eyes could go, the wind howling like it was cheering on their reckless attempts to tame the weather; a challenge with every new current thrown at them. perfect in every sense.
he had just descended from his broom, red in his cheeks and the biggest smile he had felt in a very long while. ❝ did you see that moony?! ❞ he exclaimed, finding a spot right next to him and turning quickly to see james and marlene playing in the sky; fast, little more than a blur those two in their attempt to claim victory for their own. ❝ keep it up mate! you can do it, james! ❞ a cheer barely allowed by his altered breathing, yet intended anyways.
and—he would have remained like that, caught up by the excitement and the possibilities of that morning without tasks, but—a soft fabric leaves a caress near his neck and he stops at the alarm of the unexpected, his attention turned from the game to the boy reaching for him and dutifully placing a scarf over him. his eyes… he can see him from closer than he’s usually allowed, and the brief instant where he can almost count every eyelash on him is something that makes him swallow hard, and pray for the clock to go slower for them; just for a while.
❝ you’re such a mom, moony, i swear… ❞ he laughs, probably just to dissimulate the shock that took over him just a second in the past. ❝ you’re going to need the scarf, come on— ❞
They stood there pretending to be just friends when all the while everyone in the room could plainly see that they were only existing for each other.
Emma Blake (via leohearts)
The best man and godfather.