Candy Is Dandy challenge fic.
Jul. 29th, 2005 11:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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scribbulus_ink's Candy Is Dandy challenge until she mentioned it today. I drew Remus Lupin and pumpkin pasties.
G, Remus & Peter, 530 words.
Sweet and Twenty
That change in the air as Remus gets up onto the train -- just as it ever was. Cold, grainy smoke out on the platform, then suddenly the warm windless inside of the carriage, close around his ears. He lifts up his briefcase to squeeze past the witch pushing the cart, and the sugar and spice of fresh pumpkin pasties clouds his nose and mouth. He used to like them, but now the smell cloys. Children have such sweet tastes.
He remembers the first one he ever had. That first time on the train when he was eleven, with rowdy boys pounding up and down the aisle and banging against his shoulder as they passed -- what a relief to find that near-empty compartment, that boy who was so eager to share his sweets. Peter. Mouth full of chocolate and half-hushed chatter. Frowning earnestly, scratching his neck as he told Remus how he'd seen that boy with the stringy hair torturing a mouse behind a pillar on the platform. Asking Remus if he didn't want another toffee.
Remus slams his case harder than necessary onto the luggage rack, and sits down below. Crowd's starting to gather, he sees out the window. Mothers fussing, children shoving. Remus props his elbow against the glass and rubs his eyes.
He could almost believe it's all been a long daydream, that he'll look round and Peter will be there, eleven and alive and plump face turned in his puzzled frown. Back before they'd even met James, before James at mouthed off at Professor Merrythought for scolding Peter-- That day, that was the first time Remus ever saw Peter smile. It was only when James was around that he did.
There's a muffled thud somewhere down the train -- putting something heavy aboard -- and the carriage sways faintly. Remus shivers, and pulls his cloak tighter around himself, sinks down into the plush upholstered seat. This time of the month, there's a trickle of ice that lives inside his bones; the warmth of the train only makes his skin feel feverish.
When Remus was ill, Peter used to look at him with worry, not suspicion. Sat cross-legged on the edge of Remus's bed and talked of sicknesses he'd read about in books, things he was afraid of catching. Are you sneezing? Could be plague if you're sneezing. Lay down next to him one night when James and Sirius (god, Sirius) were off on a prowl, and that sugary breath of Peter's whispered how afraid he was of dying. Remus just stared up at the rich red-dark bedcurtains, and didn't know what to say.
Shouts and childish laughter are coming louder through the walls, footfalls and sliding doors that Remus feels more than hears. He closes his eyes and lets his cheek rest against his shoulder. His head is starting to hurt, but he didn't think to bring anything for it. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter as if to push out the pain.
When he thinks of how afraid Peter was of dying, Remus can't believe he didn't leave a ghost.
The compartment door slides open. There's a pause.
'Who d'you reckon he is?'
'Professor R. J. Lupin,' a girl's voice whispers.
end.
Feedback is always welcome!
Here's last year's entry, which I also managed to make into something about Peter. Everything's about Peter, didn't you hear?
scribbulus_ink's Candy Is Dandy challenge until she mentioned it today. I drew Remus Lupin and pumpkin pasties.G, Remus & Peter, 530 words.
Sweet and Twenty
That change in the air as Remus gets up onto the train -- just as it ever was. Cold, grainy smoke out on the platform, then suddenly the warm windless inside of the carriage, close around his ears. He lifts up his briefcase to squeeze past the witch pushing the cart, and the sugar and spice of fresh pumpkin pasties clouds his nose and mouth. He used to like them, but now the smell cloys. Children have such sweet tastes.
He remembers the first one he ever had. That first time on the train when he was eleven, with rowdy boys pounding up and down the aisle and banging against his shoulder as they passed -- what a relief to find that near-empty compartment, that boy who was so eager to share his sweets. Peter. Mouth full of chocolate and half-hushed chatter. Frowning earnestly, scratching his neck as he told Remus how he'd seen that boy with the stringy hair torturing a mouse behind a pillar on the platform. Asking Remus if he didn't want another toffee.
Remus slams his case harder than necessary onto the luggage rack, and sits down below. Crowd's starting to gather, he sees out the window. Mothers fussing, children shoving. Remus props his elbow against the glass and rubs his eyes.
He could almost believe it's all been a long daydream, that he'll look round and Peter will be there, eleven and alive and plump face turned in his puzzled frown. Back before they'd even met James, before James at mouthed off at Professor Merrythought for scolding Peter-- That day, that was the first time Remus ever saw Peter smile. It was only when James was around that he did.
There's a muffled thud somewhere down the train -- putting something heavy aboard -- and the carriage sways faintly. Remus shivers, and pulls his cloak tighter around himself, sinks down into the plush upholstered seat. This time of the month, there's a trickle of ice that lives inside his bones; the warmth of the train only makes his skin feel feverish.
When Remus was ill, Peter used to look at him with worry, not suspicion. Sat cross-legged on the edge of Remus's bed and talked of sicknesses he'd read about in books, things he was afraid of catching. Are you sneezing? Could be plague if you're sneezing. Lay down next to him one night when James and Sirius (god, Sirius) were off on a prowl, and that sugary breath of Peter's whispered how afraid he was of dying. Remus just stared up at the rich red-dark bedcurtains, and didn't know what to say.
Shouts and childish laughter are coming louder through the walls, footfalls and sliding doors that Remus feels more than hears. He closes his eyes and lets his cheek rest against his shoulder. His head is starting to hurt, but he didn't think to bring anything for it. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter as if to push out the pain.
When he thinks of how afraid Peter was of dying, Remus can't believe he didn't leave a ghost.
The compartment door slides open. There's a pause.
'Who d'you reckon he is?'
'Professor R. J. Lupin,' a girl's voice whispers.
end.
Feedback is always welcome!
Here's last year's entry, which I also managed to make into something about Peter. Everything's about Peter, didn't you hear?
