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rynneToday was the first round of ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
queerditch_pub, and was much fun. For three of the rounds, I managed to write two of the prompts :D. Theme today was Changes, and again, all are a collective G/PG. I sat out one of the rounds, but that was because all the prompts were bestiality o_O.
Too many things have changed, he thinks. Remus has actually grown up now, and isn’t the boy he was in the first war. The boy he knew. The boy he loved.
And Sirius himself has changed as well, despite his childhood vow that he would never live up to his name. There are too many awkward silences, silences in which neither of them can think of anything to say that isn’t reminiscent of a painful past. There never used to be any of those.
Finally Remus looks up, and smiles almost helplessly. That’s another thing that has changed, and one Sirius can’t help staring at. Remus isn’t helpless. Remus is the most competent person Sirius knows, and should never feel helpless.
“Well,” he says, breaking the uncomfortable new silence, and sighs.
“Well,” Sirius echoes. He doesn’t know what else to say, which, if not a first, is another thing that’s certainly very new.
That helpless smile is sorta funny, Sirius thinks. Or at least it is if he can forget that it’s Remus doing it.
“I probably shouldn’t be saying this,” Remus says. “It will probably change too much, and I’ve had enough of change, I think. But…” He sighs again. “I never stopped loving you, though.”
Sirius smiles, and it isn’t helpless or funny at all. “Sometimes change can be for the better,” he says. “We can change the world to suit us, can’t we?”
Remus smiles again, one Sirius likes much better. “We can try,” he says, and reminds Sirius in that instant of the boy he used to be.
“I still love you too,” Sirius tells him. That’s one thing that didn’t change at all.
*
Ginny sits and waits, her eyes on the flower in front of her, and doesn’t look away as Luna sits down beside her.
“I like them,” Ginny declares. The butterfly on the flower flaps its wings gently.
“They’re very pretty,” Luna agrees. “I think I like them better as caterpillars, though.”
Ginny doesn’t turn her head, though she raises an eyebrow. “But caterpillars are so…ugly.” She wrinkles her nose. “And crawly.”
“Mmm,” Luna agrees. “But they have the potential to change into something beautiful. Butterflies don’t have that anymore.”
Ginny looks up, and Luna smiles down at her.
*
Harry glared.
Harry glares very nicely, Remus thought irrelevantly. And immediately told himself to shut up, that wasn’t the kind of thought one should have about a pupil.
Former pupil, he reminded himself, and cursed his own inability to lie to himself properly.
“I don’t want to be shaped into something I’m not,” Harry nearly hissed, his voice almost dangerously low. “I’m supposed to defeat Voldemort. Fine. But becoming the emotionless ice boy is not the way to do it, and you know, I really don’t enjoy it when people spout platitudes at me, and I don’t want to be coddled as if I’m a child.”
Remus closed his eyes. Harry didn’t want nice? He wouldn’t get nice. “I wasn’t spouting platitudes,” he said sharply. “I’m probably the only person alive who can say that they actually knew Sirius Black. That includes, you, Harry.”
Harry flushed red with anger, but didn’t say anything. There wasn’t much he could say to that, really.
“I still don’t like being molded to something, as if I’ve got a great destiny or some such rot,” he said, more quietly now.
Remus smiled. “Of course not. I don’t know if anyone does,” he said.
“Then you’ll tell Dumbledore to stop?” Harry looked at him hopefully. Damn pretty eyes, Remus thought. I don’t want to disappoint him.
“I don’t have any control over what Dumbledore does,” he said reluctantly. His heart sank to the bottom of his shoes at the way Harry’s face fell.
*
“The basis is Transfiguration,” Sirius explained, thirteen-year-old face so very earnest. He flashed a grin. “And you know how good me an’ James are at that.”
“You’re still thirteen,” Remus pointed out, again. “Most people don’t manage it until their thirties, if they manage it at all.”
“Most people aren’t me,” Sirius boasted. “Come on, Remus, don’t worry about it! Me an’ James an’ Peter will be up there in the Shack with you before you know it, completely safe as animals.”
I shouldn’t encourage him, Remus thought. He can’t do it—none of them can do it. They’re teenagers! Not even fully-grown wizards! How can they do something that people more than twice their age can’t?
Two years later, Remus stared at Padfoot, at the way the dog put his head on Remus’s knee and grinned at him, and changed his mind. If there was anything that Sirius couldn’t do, Remus didn’t know what it was, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
*
Percy glared. “You don’t have to pay for my books,” he said stiffly.
Oliver shook his head. “Gift for the Head Boy,” he explained with a grin. “Since I doubt you’re getting much recognition from your brothers.”
Percy rolled his eyes. “They’re a nightmare, all of them. Ron nearly lost my badge, and Fred and George keep transfiguring it into things. And making it say things like Bighead Boy.”
“They have no respect,” Oliver agreed. Percy looked at him suspiciously—it wouldn’t be the first time someone had made fun of him by pretending to agree with him.
“No, seriously,” Oliver said, “I have to deal with them on the Quidditch team, and sometimes I hate that they’re the best Beaters we have, because they don’t listen or take anything seriously! Anyway, here.” He shoved the books at Percy.
“I still don’t take charity,” Percy said quietly, pulling himself up.
“I know,” Oliver said. “But a gift from a friend, as a belated birthday present? Is that all right?”
“…I suppose,” Percy said reluctantly, taking the books. He didn’t notice when Oliver shoved the change—two Galleons, a Knut, and three Sickles—into his back pocket.
*
“It’s the end of an era,” Sirius announced.
“Oh?” Remus said, not looking up from tying his bowtie. Lily insisted on Muggle suits, saying that they looked much better than robes, and frankly, Remus had to agree with her.
“James is getting himself tied down,” Sirius said, an odd disgruntled expression flitting across his face for a moment. “He’s not going to be like he was…”
“None of us are like we were, Sirius,” Remus said, though he wasn’t sure if that fact made him sad or glad.
“Suppose not,” Sirius said glumly.
“Doesn’t mean everything’s going to change,” Remus pointed out. “James’ll still be your best friend, and he’ll still be Prongs. Just a married Prongs, is all.”
“Oh, and that’s all!” Sirius said, wrinkling his nose slightly. “He won’t be…won’t be…”
“Won’t be what, as available for everything anymore, now that he’s got a family to take care of?” Remus asked.
“Yeah,” Sirius said. “That.”
Remus shrugged, finishing off his tie. “I’ll still be here,” he pointed out. “You don’t see me getting married.”
Sirius looked at him oddly. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “You are…still here…”
*
“So wait, let me see if I can get this straight. Either you kill Voldemort or he kills you, because neither of you can live otherwise?”
Harry nodded briefly.
Neville blinked. “Then how is it that both of you are alive right now?” he asked. “I mean, you’re obviously living, and I’ve seen him, so he’s obviously living too, unless he’s some sort of zombie…”
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Harry said dryly. “He comes after me like a zombie every year. It’s starting to get really old, I think.”
“You ever thought that this prophecy doesn’t mean what you think it means?” Neville asked, raising an eyebrow. “Like, I dunno, he’ll spontaneously combust if you keep living?”
Harry blinked. “Does that mean that I have just as likely a chance of spontaneously combusting if he keeps living?”
Neville thought about that. “Don’t think so,” he finally announced. “After all, he already spent time as some sort of zombie thing, possessing people and animals and all. You said that, right?” Harry nodded. “Then, as he’s closer to dead than you are, he’ll be the one who spontaneously combusts.”
Harry burst out laughing. “I love your logic,” he said. “Now let’s only hope that that’s the case.”
“It will be.” Neville looked very confident. “After all, how long have people been misinterpreting prophecies? This one won’t be any different, you’ll see.”
“I expect I will,” Harry said complacently. “But if you’re wrong, and I do spontaneously combust…”
Neville cut him off with a kiss. “You’ll live the best life possible as long as you can,” he finished for him. “And it’ll be a good long one, you’ll see.”
queerditch_pub, and was much fun. For three of the rounds, I managed to write two of the prompts :D. Theme today was Changes, and again, all are a collective G/PG. I sat out one of the rounds, but that was because all the prompts were bestiality o_O.Too many things have changed, he thinks. Remus has actually grown up now, and isn’t the boy he was in the first war. The boy he knew. The boy he loved.
And Sirius himself has changed as well, despite his childhood vow that he would never live up to his name. There are too many awkward silences, silences in which neither of them can think of anything to say that isn’t reminiscent of a painful past. There never used to be any of those.
Finally Remus looks up, and smiles almost helplessly. That’s another thing that has changed, and one Sirius can’t help staring at. Remus isn’t helpless. Remus is the most competent person Sirius knows, and should never feel helpless.
“Well,” he says, breaking the uncomfortable new silence, and sighs.
“Well,” Sirius echoes. He doesn’t know what else to say, which, if not a first, is another thing that’s certainly very new.
That helpless smile is sorta funny, Sirius thinks. Or at least it is if he can forget that it’s Remus doing it.
“I probably shouldn’t be saying this,” Remus says. “It will probably change too much, and I’ve had enough of change, I think. But…” He sighs again. “I never stopped loving you, though.”
Sirius smiles, and it isn’t helpless or funny at all. “Sometimes change can be for the better,” he says. “We can change the world to suit us, can’t we?”
Remus smiles again, one Sirius likes much better. “We can try,” he says, and reminds Sirius in that instant of the boy he used to be.
“I still love you too,” Sirius tells him. That’s one thing that didn’t change at all.
*
Ginny sits and waits, her eyes on the flower in front of her, and doesn’t look away as Luna sits down beside her.
“I like them,” Ginny declares. The butterfly on the flower flaps its wings gently.
“They’re very pretty,” Luna agrees. “I think I like them better as caterpillars, though.”
Ginny doesn’t turn her head, though she raises an eyebrow. “But caterpillars are so…ugly.” She wrinkles her nose. “And crawly.”
“Mmm,” Luna agrees. “But they have the potential to change into something beautiful. Butterflies don’t have that anymore.”
Ginny looks up, and Luna smiles down at her.
*
Harry glared.
Harry glares very nicely, Remus thought irrelevantly. And immediately told himself to shut up, that wasn’t the kind of thought one should have about a pupil.
Former pupil, he reminded himself, and cursed his own inability to lie to himself properly.
“I don’t want to be shaped into something I’m not,” Harry nearly hissed, his voice almost dangerously low. “I’m supposed to defeat Voldemort. Fine. But becoming the emotionless ice boy is not the way to do it, and you know, I really don’t enjoy it when people spout platitudes at me, and I don’t want to be coddled as if I’m a child.”
Remus closed his eyes. Harry didn’t want nice? He wouldn’t get nice. “I wasn’t spouting platitudes,” he said sharply. “I’m probably the only person alive who can say that they actually knew Sirius Black. That includes, you, Harry.”
Harry flushed red with anger, but didn’t say anything. There wasn’t much he could say to that, really.
“I still don’t like being molded to something, as if I’ve got a great destiny or some such rot,” he said, more quietly now.
Remus smiled. “Of course not. I don’t know if anyone does,” he said.
“Then you’ll tell Dumbledore to stop?” Harry looked at him hopefully. Damn pretty eyes, Remus thought. I don’t want to disappoint him.
“I don’t have any control over what Dumbledore does,” he said reluctantly. His heart sank to the bottom of his shoes at the way Harry’s face fell.
*
“The basis is Transfiguration,” Sirius explained, thirteen-year-old face so very earnest. He flashed a grin. “And you know how good me an’ James are at that.”
“You’re still thirteen,” Remus pointed out, again. “Most people don’t manage it until their thirties, if they manage it at all.”
“Most people aren’t me,” Sirius boasted. “Come on, Remus, don’t worry about it! Me an’ James an’ Peter will be up there in the Shack with you before you know it, completely safe as animals.”
I shouldn’t encourage him, Remus thought. He can’t do it—none of them can do it. They’re teenagers! Not even fully-grown wizards! How can they do something that people more than twice their age can’t?
Two years later, Remus stared at Padfoot, at the way the dog put his head on Remus’s knee and grinned at him, and changed his mind. If there was anything that Sirius couldn’t do, Remus didn’t know what it was, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
*
Percy glared. “You don’t have to pay for my books,” he said stiffly.
Oliver shook his head. “Gift for the Head Boy,” he explained with a grin. “Since I doubt you’re getting much recognition from your brothers.”
Percy rolled his eyes. “They’re a nightmare, all of them. Ron nearly lost my badge, and Fred and George keep transfiguring it into things. And making it say things like Bighead Boy.”
“They have no respect,” Oliver agreed. Percy looked at him suspiciously—it wouldn’t be the first time someone had made fun of him by pretending to agree with him.
“No, seriously,” Oliver said, “I have to deal with them on the Quidditch team, and sometimes I hate that they’re the best Beaters we have, because they don’t listen or take anything seriously! Anyway, here.” He shoved the books at Percy.
“I still don’t take charity,” Percy said quietly, pulling himself up.
“I know,” Oliver said. “But a gift from a friend, as a belated birthday present? Is that all right?”
“…I suppose,” Percy said reluctantly, taking the books. He didn’t notice when Oliver shoved the change—two Galleons, a Knut, and three Sickles—into his back pocket.
*
“It’s the end of an era,” Sirius announced.
“Oh?” Remus said, not looking up from tying his bowtie. Lily insisted on Muggle suits, saying that they looked much better than robes, and frankly, Remus had to agree with her.
“James is getting himself tied down,” Sirius said, an odd disgruntled expression flitting across his face for a moment. “He’s not going to be like he was…”
“None of us are like we were, Sirius,” Remus said, though he wasn’t sure if that fact made him sad or glad.
“Suppose not,” Sirius said glumly.
“Doesn’t mean everything’s going to change,” Remus pointed out. “James’ll still be your best friend, and he’ll still be Prongs. Just a married Prongs, is all.”
“Oh, and that’s all!” Sirius said, wrinkling his nose slightly. “He won’t be…won’t be…”
“Won’t be what, as available for everything anymore, now that he’s got a family to take care of?” Remus asked.
“Yeah,” Sirius said. “That.”
Remus shrugged, finishing off his tie. “I’ll still be here,” he pointed out. “You don’t see me getting married.”
Sirius looked at him oddly. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “You are…still here…”
*
“So wait, let me see if I can get this straight. Either you kill Voldemort or he kills you, because neither of you can live otherwise?”
Harry nodded briefly.
Neville blinked. “Then how is it that both of you are alive right now?” he asked. “I mean, you’re obviously living, and I’ve seen him, so he’s obviously living too, unless he’s some sort of zombie…”
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Harry said dryly. “He comes after me like a zombie every year. It’s starting to get really old, I think.”
“You ever thought that this prophecy doesn’t mean what you think it means?” Neville asked, raising an eyebrow. “Like, I dunno, he’ll spontaneously combust if you keep living?”
Harry blinked. “Does that mean that I have just as likely a chance of spontaneously combusting if he keeps living?”
Neville thought about that. “Don’t think so,” he finally announced. “After all, he already spent time as some sort of zombie thing, possessing people and animals and all. You said that, right?” Harry nodded. “Then, as he’s closer to dead than you are, he’ll be the one who spontaneously combusts.”
Harry burst out laughing. “I love your logic,” he said. “Now let’s only hope that that’s the case.”
“It will be.” Neville looked very confident. “After all, how long have people been misinterpreting prophecies? This one won’t be any different, you’ll see.”
“I expect I will,” Harry said complacently. “But if you’re wrong, and I do spontaneously combust…”
Neville cut him off with a kiss. “You’ll live the best life possible as long as you can,” he finished for him. “And it’ll be a good long one, you’ll see.”
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Date: 2004-08-29 04:19 pm (UTC)And Harry/Neville = much love.
Thanks for sharing!