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hp_goldenage2019-03-06 11:57 am
hpgoldenage_mod) wrote in hp_goldenage2019-03-06 11:57 am
Entry tags:
Salt and Pepper Fest: Blooming Flowers and Decaying Bones (Sirius/Remus; PG-13)
Title: Blooming Flowers and Decaying Bones
Author:![[archiveofourown.org profile]](https://p.dreamwidth.org/b164c54b26e4/-/archiveofourown.org/favicon.ico)
momstiel
Characters/Pairings: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 1,847
Content/Warning(s): No Warnings
Summary/Prompt: As a little boy, his mother had always told him that white roses not only represented purity but also new beginnings. Now, as he walked past a flowerbed of these very flowers, he knew one thing was certain. Even though he was a sixty-year-old werewolf it was never too late to start a new chapter of his life. In which Remus and Sirius survive the war but are not left untouched by its bitter blade.
A/N: This fanfiction takes place after the war in an AU where both Remus and Sirius have survived. I had a lot of fun writing elderly! Wolfstar for the first time. Special thanks to Adzel for helping me beta-read.
Read at AO3 or below:
When he was a young boy, his mother used to take him on walks through the forest behind his childhood home. Growing up, he was never allowed to form friendships with the other children in the village due to his… unfortunate condition. Yet, Hope Lupin had done everything in her power to make sure that her son had never felt lonely. She’d read him stories about magical lands, and take him on nature walks to educate him about the soil and life around him. Even though he was burdened at a young age and his childhood was not one of desire, he found himself yearning to relive those moments once more. It was a pure time before war stained his soul.
His mother had passed from this world many years ago, but he kept her memory alive by tending to the garden outside of his cottage. He knew his hands didn’t work like they used to, arthritis cursing his mobility, but his passion was still there. Fingers shook as he reached out to touch the petal of a blooming rose. It faltered under his sensitive touch, and Remus felt a small smile tugging on his lips. As a child, he learned the value of nature, and even if the war had temporarily blinded him from seeing the happiness small things could bring, his values had come back to him in his older age.
Very carefully, he plucked the rose from the ground. He had always hated this part, feeling as though he was messing with nature’s makeup. As he observed the beautiful flower, he reassured himself it was done for a better purpose. Holding it close to his chest, he shakily got up, depending on his cane for support. His knees ached, a familiar chronic pain plaguing his aging bones. Unfortunately, the years of transformations had finally come back at full force. There was not a day that went by that didn’t put a strain on his muscles. His movement was delayed and he found there was little he could do about it. He had tried both potions and muggle remedies, and although both helped a bit, neither had truly removed the ache. Most of his comfort had come from small home remedies, such as stretching or heating pads.
As Remus shuffled his way back towards the cottage, flower in tow, he made his way towards the kitchen. Before he had gone out to gather the prettiest rose in his garden, he had started the kettle. It wasn’t finished boiling yet, so he lounged against the wall. If he went to sit on the couch, he knew very well it would be a struggle to get back onto his feet.
A few photos hung in the kitchen above the sink. Remus’s eyes found them as he waited and he felt a tiny tug at his heart. Most of what was framed around the house were photos were taken post-war, the exception of a photo of James and Lily’s wedding. Most of the images before the war were too disheartening to look at, reminding him of the life he left behind. Now, the walls were littered with photos of Harry and his children, and a few nice pictures from the vacation to Spain he and Sirius had taken three years ago.
Not being able to reminisce about the photos for much longer due to the faint sound of boiling, Remus turned his attention the matter at hand. Grasping his cane tightly, he went over to pour a cup of tea for himself. As he did so, some of the liquid missed his mug, but Remus didn’t react. Once he finished pouring the cup, he put the kettle back. He grabbed a rag and cleaned up the small mess on the counter.
Being careful not to tarnish the quality of the rose, and not to prick himself, Remus slowly put it under his arm. Then, he reached for the mug and started to walk down the hall. His eyes instantly fell to the room at the very end of the corridor. The door was cracked ajar, a thin ray of light escaping into the dark hall. Cautiously, he began to make his way to the room. Once he was there, he gently nudged the door open with his elbow.
Just as he predicted, the figure of a man was hunched over a desk in the study, his eyes glued to something on the wall. It was almost humorous to think that Sirius Black, the man he knew had little interest in books or anything of that sorts, spent hours at a time in the room. The key word being ‘almost’ in the situation. Remus knew very well why he spent so much time in there, and it pulled on his heartstrings.
War had changed them both, and it had robbed them of many things - their childhood, their love life, their friends, and everything in between. One of the things that had been ripped out from under Sirius’s feet was his freedom and his sanity. Even though Sirius refuses to speak about his time in Azkaban, Remus could assume rather well it was nothing short of a twelve-year nightmare. He saw the effects of it in those sad grey eyes and every small quirk he had adopted in his release.
However, one of the most evident scars Sirius was left with was his fading memory. In his later years, it had only managed to worsen. Even though he never explicitly admitted it, Remus had a sinking feeling Sirius’s sudden fascination with the study had something to do with it.
As Remus slowly made his way closer to Sirius, he followed the other’s line of sight to the very photo he anticipated. Hanging on the wall was a huge photo of them all at James and Lily’s wedding. It was magical, so they moved in it with slow, fluid motions, as if they were alive. Remus examined the photo, his eyes first falling onto Lily in her beautiful white dress. He remembered how she was so insistent on wearing it because it was once her mother’s. In the photo, she was looking up and smiling at a face Remus hadn’t seen for years. All messy hair and a wide grin, James stood with his arms around her, leaning down and kissing her cheek softly. He looked so content, so young. Now, in hindsight, as he looked them over, he saw that they were just children. Barely adults, all lost in the world with too much confidence for their age.
Very slowly, his attention fell onto Sirius’s face. It was much younger, and there was a spark in his eyes that Remus hadn’t seen since they were both twenty-one. His expression was one of joy, not a care in the world evident in his face, oblivious to how everything was about to shatter. He had his arm slung around a man that Remus hardly recognized. They shared the same scars, but that was where the similarities came to an end. There was a smile on his face as he looked back at Sirius, nothing short of overpouring love and adoration visible in his expression. The wedding was a good time for all of them, and escape from the war and all the death around them. At that time, they didn’t think the war could get any worse. Oh, how they were so naive and wrong.
Ripping his eyes away from the photo, not sure if his heart could handle looking at the mirror into his past much longer, he focused on what was real and in front of him instead. Sirius showed no sign of recognizing Remus’s presence, a longing expression on his face as he stared at the young faces looking back at him. However, as Remus slid the tea down on the desk beside Sirius, he realizes he was mistaken. “Did we ever think about getting married, Remus?”
Remus was taken aback by the question as he slowly rounded to where Sirius was at, lowering himself in the chair beside Sirius’s. He looked down at the floor. Images of them in a tiny flat after graduation, talking about their future, making empty promises of marriage and children came flashing back instantly. He even remembered back in sixth year when Sirius had pretend-proposed to him with some ring they found in an old Hogwarts hidden passageway. In another world, where everything went perfect, they would have been long married by now. “Yes.”
An awkward silence filled the room, as neither of them dared talk about the past. Remus slowly pulled out the rose from under his arm and passed it towards Sirius. The man looked confused, looking down and picking it up. “What’s this for?”
“It’s our anniversary,” Remus said simply, watching as those silver eyes filled with regret.
“Shit… I’m sorry, Remus… it slipped my mind I just…” Saving Sirius the trouble of rambling any further, Remus shook his head and cut him off.
“I don’t blame you for not remembering. We were just silly fifth years back when we first got together.” Remus hastily added, watching the look of defeat still rise in Sirius’s expressions. It was very likely he did not ever remember such things. “So you don’t need to apologize.”
Sirius reached out for Remus’s hand. Although both of their flesh were wrinkled, ridden with age and stress beyond their years, Remus still felt the same warmth he got from holding Sirius’s hand as teenagers. Time changes a lot of things, but not apparently not everything.
Remus’s eyes fall onto the white rose resting in Sirius’s lap.
“New beginnings,” a voice inside of his head whispers. Over the years, he had forgotten what his mother sounded like, but he just knew the owner of the whisper had to be her. A renewed feeling of hope rushed through his body, and he tightened his grip on Sirius’s hand.
“I was actually thinking, Sirius… I went into the village the other day,” Remus began, feeling safe and loved when Sirius’s worn face met his. “There’s an opening in the library, they’re looking for volunteers to read to children. I was thinking maybe it was something we could together, as a couple. I know you’ve never been one for books, but you’ve always been quite the theatrical individual. You bring the words to life… and it might be a good and new refreshing start.”
As Remus finished his ramble, he looked over at Sirius for any sign of emotion. Unfortunately, his expression was impassive, and he felt the anxiety bubble inside of him. Then, the smallest of smiles cracked onto his partner’s lips, “I think that would be a wonderful idea. I can show all those no-good youngsters the proper way to bring adventures off the pages. Hell, maybe I can show them a few pranks,”
And suddenly, that long lost light, something Remus thought was trapped in 1980, came alive in Sirius’s eyes. Maybe a new beginning and a sense of hope were all they needed for the now.
Author:
Characters/Pairings: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 1,847
Content/Warning(s): No Warnings
Summary/Prompt: As a little boy, his mother had always told him that white roses not only represented purity but also new beginnings. Now, as he walked past a flowerbed of these very flowers, he knew one thing was certain. Even though he was a sixty-year-old werewolf it was never too late to start a new chapter of his life. In which Remus and Sirius survive the war but are not left untouched by its bitter blade.
A/N: This fanfiction takes place after the war in an AU where both Remus and Sirius have survived. I had a lot of fun writing elderly! Wolfstar for the first time. Special thanks to Adzel for helping me beta-read.
Read at AO3 or below:
When he was a young boy, his mother used to take him on walks through the forest behind his childhood home. Growing up, he was never allowed to form friendships with the other children in the village due to his… unfortunate condition. Yet, Hope Lupin had done everything in her power to make sure that her son had never felt lonely. She’d read him stories about magical lands, and take him on nature walks to educate him about the soil and life around him. Even though he was burdened at a young age and his childhood was not one of desire, he found himself yearning to relive those moments once more. It was a pure time before war stained his soul.
His mother had passed from this world many years ago, but he kept her memory alive by tending to the garden outside of his cottage. He knew his hands didn’t work like they used to, arthritis cursing his mobility, but his passion was still there. Fingers shook as he reached out to touch the petal of a blooming rose. It faltered under his sensitive touch, and Remus felt a small smile tugging on his lips. As a child, he learned the value of nature, and even if the war had temporarily blinded him from seeing the happiness small things could bring, his values had come back to him in his older age.
Very carefully, he plucked the rose from the ground. He had always hated this part, feeling as though he was messing with nature’s makeup. As he observed the beautiful flower, he reassured himself it was done for a better purpose. Holding it close to his chest, he shakily got up, depending on his cane for support. His knees ached, a familiar chronic pain plaguing his aging bones. Unfortunately, the years of transformations had finally come back at full force. There was not a day that went by that didn’t put a strain on his muscles. His movement was delayed and he found there was little he could do about it. He had tried both potions and muggle remedies, and although both helped a bit, neither had truly removed the ache. Most of his comfort had come from small home remedies, such as stretching or heating pads.
As Remus shuffled his way back towards the cottage, flower in tow, he made his way towards the kitchen. Before he had gone out to gather the prettiest rose in his garden, he had started the kettle. It wasn’t finished boiling yet, so he lounged against the wall. If he went to sit on the couch, he knew very well it would be a struggle to get back onto his feet.
A few photos hung in the kitchen above the sink. Remus’s eyes found them as he waited and he felt a tiny tug at his heart. Most of what was framed around the house were photos were taken post-war, the exception of a photo of James and Lily’s wedding. Most of the images before the war were too disheartening to look at, reminding him of the life he left behind. Now, the walls were littered with photos of Harry and his children, and a few nice pictures from the vacation to Spain he and Sirius had taken three years ago.
Not being able to reminisce about the photos for much longer due to the faint sound of boiling, Remus turned his attention the matter at hand. Grasping his cane tightly, he went over to pour a cup of tea for himself. As he did so, some of the liquid missed his mug, but Remus didn’t react. Once he finished pouring the cup, he put the kettle back. He grabbed a rag and cleaned up the small mess on the counter.
Being careful not to tarnish the quality of the rose, and not to prick himself, Remus slowly put it under his arm. Then, he reached for the mug and started to walk down the hall. His eyes instantly fell to the room at the very end of the corridor. The door was cracked ajar, a thin ray of light escaping into the dark hall. Cautiously, he began to make his way to the room. Once he was there, he gently nudged the door open with his elbow.
Just as he predicted, the figure of a man was hunched over a desk in the study, his eyes glued to something on the wall. It was almost humorous to think that Sirius Black, the man he knew had little interest in books or anything of that sorts, spent hours at a time in the room. The key word being ‘almost’ in the situation. Remus knew very well why he spent so much time in there, and it pulled on his heartstrings.
War had changed them both, and it had robbed them of many things - their childhood, their love life, their friends, and everything in between. One of the things that had been ripped out from under Sirius’s feet was his freedom and his sanity. Even though Sirius refuses to speak about his time in Azkaban, Remus could assume rather well it was nothing short of a twelve-year nightmare. He saw the effects of it in those sad grey eyes and every small quirk he had adopted in his release.
However, one of the most evident scars Sirius was left with was his fading memory. In his later years, it had only managed to worsen. Even though he never explicitly admitted it, Remus had a sinking feeling Sirius’s sudden fascination with the study had something to do with it.
As Remus slowly made his way closer to Sirius, he followed the other’s line of sight to the very photo he anticipated. Hanging on the wall was a huge photo of them all at James and Lily’s wedding. It was magical, so they moved in it with slow, fluid motions, as if they were alive. Remus examined the photo, his eyes first falling onto Lily in her beautiful white dress. He remembered how she was so insistent on wearing it because it was once her mother’s. In the photo, she was looking up and smiling at a face Remus hadn’t seen for years. All messy hair and a wide grin, James stood with his arms around her, leaning down and kissing her cheek softly. He looked so content, so young. Now, in hindsight, as he looked them over, he saw that they were just children. Barely adults, all lost in the world with too much confidence for their age.
Very slowly, his attention fell onto Sirius’s face. It was much younger, and there was a spark in his eyes that Remus hadn’t seen since they were both twenty-one. His expression was one of joy, not a care in the world evident in his face, oblivious to how everything was about to shatter. He had his arm slung around a man that Remus hardly recognized. They shared the same scars, but that was where the similarities came to an end. There was a smile on his face as he looked back at Sirius, nothing short of overpouring love and adoration visible in his expression. The wedding was a good time for all of them, and escape from the war and all the death around them. At that time, they didn’t think the war could get any worse. Oh, how they were so naive and wrong.
Ripping his eyes away from the photo, not sure if his heart could handle looking at the mirror into his past much longer, he focused on what was real and in front of him instead. Sirius showed no sign of recognizing Remus’s presence, a longing expression on his face as he stared at the young faces looking back at him. However, as Remus slid the tea down on the desk beside Sirius, he realizes he was mistaken. “Did we ever think about getting married, Remus?”
Remus was taken aback by the question as he slowly rounded to where Sirius was at, lowering himself in the chair beside Sirius’s. He looked down at the floor. Images of them in a tiny flat after graduation, talking about their future, making empty promises of marriage and children came flashing back instantly. He even remembered back in sixth year when Sirius had pretend-proposed to him with some ring they found in an old Hogwarts hidden passageway. In another world, where everything went perfect, they would have been long married by now. “Yes.”
An awkward silence filled the room, as neither of them dared talk about the past. Remus slowly pulled out the rose from under his arm and passed it towards Sirius. The man looked confused, looking down and picking it up. “What’s this for?”
“It’s our anniversary,” Remus said simply, watching as those silver eyes filled with regret.
“Shit… I’m sorry, Remus… it slipped my mind I just…” Saving Sirius the trouble of rambling any further, Remus shook his head and cut him off.
“I don’t blame you for not remembering. We were just silly fifth years back when we first got together.” Remus hastily added, watching the look of defeat still rise in Sirius’s expressions. It was very likely he did not ever remember such things. “So you don’t need to apologize.”
Sirius reached out for Remus’s hand. Although both of their flesh were wrinkled, ridden with age and stress beyond their years, Remus still felt the same warmth he got from holding Sirius’s hand as teenagers. Time changes a lot of things, but not apparently not everything.
Remus’s eyes fall onto the white rose resting in Sirius’s lap.
“New beginnings,” a voice inside of his head whispers. Over the years, he had forgotten what his mother sounded like, but he just knew the owner of the whisper had to be her. A renewed feeling of hope rushed through his body, and he tightened his grip on Sirius’s hand.
“I was actually thinking, Sirius… I went into the village the other day,” Remus began, feeling safe and loved when Sirius’s worn face met his. “There’s an opening in the library, they’re looking for volunteers to read to children. I was thinking maybe it was something we could together, as a couple. I know you’ve never been one for books, but you’ve always been quite the theatrical individual. You bring the words to life… and it might be a good and new refreshing start.”
As Remus finished his ramble, he looked over at Sirius for any sign of emotion. Unfortunately, his expression was impassive, and he felt the anxiety bubble inside of him. Then, the smallest of smiles cracked onto his partner’s lips, “I think that would be a wonderful idea. I can show all those no-good youngsters the proper way to bring adventures off the pages. Hell, maybe I can show them a few pranks,”
And suddenly, that long lost light, something Remus thought was trapped in 1980, came alive in Sirius’s eyes. Maybe a new beginning and a sense of hope were all they needed for the now.