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Title: Between words
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mithborien
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG
Summary: For as long as Remus can remember, Sirius Black has always had atrocious handwriting.
Word Count: 1806
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters, settings and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Notes: An idea that took form then abandoned me, then I came back to it and decided to post it. Un beta'd.
It’s a messy scribble of ink blots, finger smudges and the occasional word outside the lines of a page. It also seemed to get worse every year, more frenzied and haphazard as Sirius grew from first year mischief maker to seventh year hell raiser.
James on the other hand has a precise cursive, slanted and sharp that arches effortlessly across his scrolls during class. He never makes mistakes either and Remus once watched him copy out a whole roll of Potions notes perfectly in less than five minutes.
In contrast, Peter’s handwriting is small, compact and contained; a print that crawls across the parchment in careful, blocky letters that will always include a few crossed out errors no matter how hard he concentrates.
Remus’s writing is an amalgam of all three of his friends. A combination of printing and cursive that is neat and perfect when he pays attention but has a tendency to lope off in a confused tangent if his mind wanders. But Sirius’s handwriting had always been and appears to always will be a disordered scrawl whose most infamous moment had been in fifth year when the Professors had literally been unable to read his exam answers and he only just scraped through the year on his practical marks.
So that was why one late, lazy Sunday night of unfinished homework, Remus was watching Sirius’s quill scratch across his parchment. James and Peter were already upstairs asleep having come to the conclusion that homework is for wankers and therefore beneath them both. Surprisingly however, Sirius had ignored them and pleaded with Remus instead that he couldn’t possibly finish his own homework without him and since Sirius wasn’t going to let him sleep in peace anyway, he might as well help himself by helping Sirius. Remus had blanked out about halfway through the sentence and instead resigned himself to a night spent listening to Sirius tell him gory facts out of his DADA textbook while attempting to catch up on the work he had missed out on from the last full moon.
However studying star charts and rune tables now seems tedious and Remus finds he can’t stop his eyes from lazily sliding over to watch Sirius take notes.
He can’t help it, he theorises. Any normal, sane person would wonder just how Sirius Black’s handwriting managed to deteriorate so badly especially if they had seen it happen first hand. He can remember in second year when he had asked Sirius about it and Sirius had promptly replied that it was so messy because his hand couldn’t keep up with his gigantic, impressive brain. Remus had rolled his eyes in response, thrown an ink pot at his head and never asked again.
But he still wonders because mysteries intrigue him and Sirius Black never professed to be simple despite how many times James claimed otherwise. He winces slightly as Sirius’s quill makes a grating scratch across his parchment and Sirius, having sensed the movement out of the corner of his eyes, looks up and grins before poking Remus in the thigh with the quill.
“Get back to work,” he says imperiously.
Remus slaps at his hand before taking the advice. “Your handwriting really is atrocious, Black,” he mutters.
Sirius laughs and Remus would’ve have sworn his quill scratched even harder against the parchment in response. Remus likes nights like this, when it is just the two of them and Sirius isn’t trying to impress anyone. There have been too many bad words between them lately and Remus just wants there to be peace again because his life is chaotic enough. It’s moments like these that he craves and that’s why he feels a slight stab of disappointment when Sirius suddenly gets to his feet in a rush of cold air.
“I’m going to bed, Moony,” Sirius says sharply, failing to even look at Remus. “Keep working if you want but I can’t be bothered anymore.” He then mutters a joke about agreeing with Potter but it sounds false, unlike the cursing he spouts out as he trips on the stairs up to the dorms.
Remus just stares as Sirius finally disappears out of sight. This was not normal Sirius behaviour, well actually, swearing, accidents and confusion is normal Sirius behaviour but never when it was just the two of them. He frowns and is turning back to his scrolls when he notices that the bottom half of the parchment Sirius had been working on had been torn off. And Sirius must have ripped it off just then as well because there is a smear of ink across the jagged edge that has stained the table. Remus stands, utters a quick cleaning charm for the ink and a spell to keep their things organised before trudging after Sirius.
All the bed curtains in the dormitory are closed when he gets there. However, Sirius never shuts his because he always asserts that he has nothing to hide but Remus privately knows it’s because he likes the sun on his face in the morning which is why he snagged the bed closest to the window.
Quietly, Remus walks over to Sirius’s bed and draws back the curtain to see Sirius stretched out on top of the blankets, back towards him and face hidden. He doesn’t move when Remus sits down on the edge of the bed but lets out an indignant yelp when Remus pokes him between the ribs.
“What’s wrong?” he asks pleasantly.
Sirius shifts on the bed, mutters something unintelligible. “Leave me alone,” he finally replies petulantly.
There is a tone to Sirius’s voice that suggests there is something wrong that goes far beyond the petty annoyances that Sirius normally gets upset about like teachers and losing Quidditch matches. If Remus didn’t know any better he would say this had something to do with Sirius’s family but after Sirius was disowned all three of his friends knew better than even to hint at something that had even the remotest connection to the Blacks. For a moment Remus is unsure whether to continue with his pestering but then figures Sirius wouldn’t give up so easily and the night had been fairly boring so far.
He pokes Sirius again, this time in the small of his back and Sirius hisses and rolls so the same target wasn’t available again.
“I said leave me alone.”
“True,” Remus concedes but says nothing more knowing Sirius’s curiosity will win out.
“Then why don’t you?” Sirius finally complained with a glare.
“Because something is wrong and I know that you wouldn’t leave me alone if it was me sulking in my bed. In fact, I do believe you would do worse then just poke me.”
He saw Sirius smile and felt a grin tug at his mouth in response. “What’s wrong?” he asks again quietly.
Sirius sighs, edges up the bed so he is leaning slightly against his pillows then chucks something at Remus. Remus makes a grab for it but his lanky limbs are too slow and the object hits him squarely in the forehead.
“Honestly Moony, for supposed animal grace you seem to be lacking something,” Sirius sniggers.
Remus just growls at him and retrieves the scrunched up ball of parchment Sirius had thrown. He can only assume it’s the bottom of the scroll that Sirius had been working on before going to bed and Remus smooths it out carefully on his thigh. At first he sees nothing out of the ordinary, just Sirius’s normal brand of notes that only James seems to be able to translate but then at the end of the parchment the scribbles turn into three lines of perfect script. Words formed with graceful loops and perfect serifs. Words that Remus would have bet a hundred galleons on that Sirius Black would not be capable of constructing.
When Remus looks up with confusion, Sirius is staring back at him with resigned expression on his face.
“What…” Remus begins then stops because he really doesn’t know what to say. He settles for “I don’t get it.”
Sirius sighs and slouches back down onto the bed. “From the time that pure-blood children can talk, they are taught to write.” Sirius’s voice is dull and slow, like he’s reciting something memorised out of a textbook. “My mother used to stand over me in the study, making me practise my writing over and over again until the letters were perfect. I remember she used to close the curtains so I couldn’t see outside and she used to whack my fingers with a cane every time I made a mistake.” Sirius gives a self-deprecating laugh as he raises his hand and flexes his fingers, considering and silent.
“Sirius…” Remus trails off, having no clue how to respond to something he doesn’t understand.
Sirius frowns, takes back the scrap of paper and rips it to pieces before throwing the scraps above them both like confetti. “Don’t,” he warns. “It doesn’t matter. I left them, I left them and nothing they can do will change that fact. Nothing else is worth remembering besides that.
“I’m sorry.”
Sirius grins. “I’m not.”
Remus grins back because that’s what friends do, then frowns. “So why the faked handwriting?”
Sirius hunches up, insulted. “It’s not fake,” he crows. “It’s a reflection of my spontaneous and charming personality. Perfect writing is for pureblood freaks and nutters like Potter.”
Remus smiles knowingly. “And it reminds you of your family.”
Sirius sobers and looks suspiciously at Remus. “You are far too smart for your own good, you know.” He grins. “Besides you’re my family now, Moony.” He lurches upwards and grabs Remus around the waist, hugging too hard and too fast for Remus to object before falling back down to the bed, dragging Remus with him. Sirius laughs as Remus struggles to get free, cursing the other boy but Sirius is too quick and wrestles Remus down, pinning his arms in no time at all.
Sirius is breathing heavily and Remus can feel his heart thudding from where Sirius is sprawling across his chest.
“I mean it you know,” Sirius murmurs.
“Mean what?”
“You are my family now, blood be damned and I’m… I’m sorry for everything y’know but I will never ever leave you.”
One of Remus’ hands finds its way into Sirius’ hair because he can feel the other boy shaking now. He doesn’t know whether he wants to believe Sirius at the moment but it’s nice for once just to feel wanted.
Remus sighs then curls in a bit towards the other boy. He could say something equally profound in return but somehow that would ruin the moment. So he settles for what he hopes he believes is the truth.
“I know.”
~
Author:
mithborienFandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG
Summary: For as long as Remus can remember, Sirius Black has always had atrocious handwriting.
Word Count: 1806
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters, settings and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Notes: An idea that took form then abandoned me, then I came back to it and decided to post it. Un beta'd.
It’s a messy scribble of ink blots, finger smudges and the occasional word outside the lines of a page. It also seemed to get worse every year, more frenzied and haphazard as Sirius grew from first year mischief maker to seventh year hell raiser.
James on the other hand has a precise cursive, slanted and sharp that arches effortlessly across his scrolls during class. He never makes mistakes either and Remus once watched him copy out a whole roll of Potions notes perfectly in less than five minutes.
In contrast, Peter’s handwriting is small, compact and contained; a print that crawls across the parchment in careful, blocky letters that will always include a few crossed out errors no matter how hard he concentrates.
Remus’s writing is an amalgam of all three of his friends. A combination of printing and cursive that is neat and perfect when he pays attention but has a tendency to lope off in a confused tangent if his mind wanders. But Sirius’s handwriting had always been and appears to always will be a disordered scrawl whose most infamous moment had been in fifth year when the Professors had literally been unable to read his exam answers and he only just scraped through the year on his practical marks.
So that was why one late, lazy Sunday night of unfinished homework, Remus was watching Sirius’s quill scratch across his parchment. James and Peter were already upstairs asleep having come to the conclusion that homework is for wankers and therefore beneath them both. Surprisingly however, Sirius had ignored them and pleaded with Remus instead that he couldn’t possibly finish his own homework without him and since Sirius wasn’t going to let him sleep in peace anyway, he might as well help himself by helping Sirius. Remus had blanked out about halfway through the sentence and instead resigned himself to a night spent listening to Sirius tell him gory facts out of his DADA textbook while attempting to catch up on the work he had missed out on from the last full moon.
However studying star charts and rune tables now seems tedious and Remus finds he can’t stop his eyes from lazily sliding over to watch Sirius take notes.
He can’t help it, he theorises. Any normal, sane person would wonder just how Sirius Black’s handwriting managed to deteriorate so badly especially if they had seen it happen first hand. He can remember in second year when he had asked Sirius about it and Sirius had promptly replied that it was so messy because his hand couldn’t keep up with his gigantic, impressive brain. Remus had rolled his eyes in response, thrown an ink pot at his head and never asked again.
But he still wonders because mysteries intrigue him and Sirius Black never professed to be simple despite how many times James claimed otherwise. He winces slightly as Sirius’s quill makes a grating scratch across his parchment and Sirius, having sensed the movement out of the corner of his eyes, looks up and grins before poking Remus in the thigh with the quill.
“Get back to work,” he says imperiously.
Remus slaps at his hand before taking the advice. “Your handwriting really is atrocious, Black,” he mutters.
Sirius laughs and Remus would’ve have sworn his quill scratched even harder against the parchment in response. Remus likes nights like this, when it is just the two of them and Sirius isn’t trying to impress anyone. There have been too many bad words between them lately and Remus just wants there to be peace again because his life is chaotic enough. It’s moments like these that he craves and that’s why he feels a slight stab of disappointment when Sirius suddenly gets to his feet in a rush of cold air.
“I’m going to bed, Moony,” Sirius says sharply, failing to even look at Remus. “Keep working if you want but I can’t be bothered anymore.” He then mutters a joke about agreeing with Potter but it sounds false, unlike the cursing he spouts out as he trips on the stairs up to the dorms.
Remus just stares as Sirius finally disappears out of sight. This was not normal Sirius behaviour, well actually, swearing, accidents and confusion is normal Sirius behaviour but never when it was just the two of them. He frowns and is turning back to his scrolls when he notices that the bottom half of the parchment Sirius had been working on had been torn off. And Sirius must have ripped it off just then as well because there is a smear of ink across the jagged edge that has stained the table. Remus stands, utters a quick cleaning charm for the ink and a spell to keep their things organised before trudging after Sirius.
All the bed curtains in the dormitory are closed when he gets there. However, Sirius never shuts his because he always asserts that he has nothing to hide but Remus privately knows it’s because he likes the sun on his face in the morning which is why he snagged the bed closest to the window.
Quietly, Remus walks over to Sirius’s bed and draws back the curtain to see Sirius stretched out on top of the blankets, back towards him and face hidden. He doesn’t move when Remus sits down on the edge of the bed but lets out an indignant yelp when Remus pokes him between the ribs.
“What’s wrong?” he asks pleasantly.
Sirius shifts on the bed, mutters something unintelligible. “Leave me alone,” he finally replies petulantly.
There is a tone to Sirius’s voice that suggests there is something wrong that goes far beyond the petty annoyances that Sirius normally gets upset about like teachers and losing Quidditch matches. If Remus didn’t know any better he would say this had something to do with Sirius’s family but after Sirius was disowned all three of his friends knew better than even to hint at something that had even the remotest connection to the Blacks. For a moment Remus is unsure whether to continue with his pestering but then figures Sirius wouldn’t give up so easily and the night had been fairly boring so far.
He pokes Sirius again, this time in the small of his back and Sirius hisses and rolls so the same target wasn’t available again.
“I said leave me alone.”
“True,” Remus concedes but says nothing more knowing Sirius’s curiosity will win out.
“Then why don’t you?” Sirius finally complained with a glare.
“Because something is wrong and I know that you wouldn’t leave me alone if it was me sulking in my bed. In fact, I do believe you would do worse then just poke me.”
He saw Sirius smile and felt a grin tug at his mouth in response. “What’s wrong?” he asks again quietly.
Sirius sighs, edges up the bed so he is leaning slightly against his pillows then chucks something at Remus. Remus makes a grab for it but his lanky limbs are too slow and the object hits him squarely in the forehead.
“Honestly Moony, for supposed animal grace you seem to be lacking something,” Sirius sniggers.
Remus just growls at him and retrieves the scrunched up ball of parchment Sirius had thrown. He can only assume it’s the bottom of the scroll that Sirius had been working on before going to bed and Remus smooths it out carefully on his thigh. At first he sees nothing out of the ordinary, just Sirius’s normal brand of notes that only James seems to be able to translate but then at the end of the parchment the scribbles turn into three lines of perfect script. Words formed with graceful loops and perfect serifs. Words that Remus would have bet a hundred galleons on that Sirius Black would not be capable of constructing.
When Remus looks up with confusion, Sirius is staring back at him with resigned expression on his face.
“What…” Remus begins then stops because he really doesn’t know what to say. He settles for “I don’t get it.”
Sirius sighs and slouches back down onto the bed. “From the time that pure-blood children can talk, they are taught to write.” Sirius’s voice is dull and slow, like he’s reciting something memorised out of a textbook. “My mother used to stand over me in the study, making me practise my writing over and over again until the letters were perfect. I remember she used to close the curtains so I couldn’t see outside and she used to whack my fingers with a cane every time I made a mistake.” Sirius gives a self-deprecating laugh as he raises his hand and flexes his fingers, considering and silent.
“Sirius…” Remus trails off, having no clue how to respond to something he doesn’t understand.
Sirius frowns, takes back the scrap of paper and rips it to pieces before throwing the scraps above them both like confetti. “Don’t,” he warns. “It doesn’t matter. I left them, I left them and nothing they can do will change that fact. Nothing else is worth remembering besides that.
“I’m sorry.”
Sirius grins. “I’m not.”
Remus grins back because that’s what friends do, then frowns. “So why the faked handwriting?”
Sirius hunches up, insulted. “It’s not fake,” he crows. “It’s a reflection of my spontaneous and charming personality. Perfect writing is for pureblood freaks and nutters like Potter.”
Remus smiles knowingly. “And it reminds you of your family.”
Sirius sobers and looks suspiciously at Remus. “You are far too smart for your own good, you know.” He grins. “Besides you’re my family now, Moony.” He lurches upwards and grabs Remus around the waist, hugging too hard and too fast for Remus to object before falling back down to the bed, dragging Remus with him. Sirius laughs as Remus struggles to get free, cursing the other boy but Sirius is too quick and wrestles Remus down, pinning his arms in no time at all.
Sirius is breathing heavily and Remus can feel his heart thudding from where Sirius is sprawling across his chest.
“I mean it you know,” Sirius murmurs.
“Mean what?”
“You are my family now, blood be damned and I’m… I’m sorry for everything y’know but I will never ever leave you.”
One of Remus’ hands finds its way into Sirius’ hair because he can feel the other boy shaking now. He doesn’t know whether he wants to believe Sirius at the moment but it’s nice for once just to feel wanted.
Remus sighs then curls in a bit towards the other boy. He could say something equally profound in return but somehow that would ruin the moment. So he settles for what he hopes he believes is the truth.
“I know.”
~
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