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wanderlighttitle: The Consequences of Springtime
pairing: Remus/Sirius
rating: G
words: 440
summary: Remus Lupin has decided that he cannot stand spring, and this is why.
notes: Written a while ago; reposted from my writing journal. -- This ficlet uses something I like to call point-collapse -- the actual piece is set at one specific point in time, and the narrative collapses down to that point (if that makes any sense whatsoever). Also. It is utter fluff.
The Consequences of Springtime
Remus Lupin has decided that he cannot stand spring.
It isn't because of the long-awaited sunlight which filtered through the dorm's drapes this morning, waking the bloody terrors that are Sirius Black and James Potter a full two hours earlier than usual and thus ensuring that the entirety of Gryffindor house was roused by boisterous whoops and bellows at five forty-five AM. Remus' ears are still ringing with Sirius' imitated birdcall, which caused a) a first year to fall down two sets of stairs, breaking her collarbone, and b) the death of Peter's pet fish ("Sorry, mate -- but what kind of self-respecting wizard keeps a bloody fish, anyway?").
It isn't because of the spring pollens cause James Potter to sniffle and sneeze and moan and complain. (Who would have known -- the great Potter, champion of the Quidditch field, allergic to dandelion fluff?) His state of suffering has somehow led James to the conclusion that he is morally obligated to pull twice as many pranks. Remus doesn't understand his logic -- isn't sure that Prongs has any -- but somehow thinks that "if I have to be miserable, Snivellus sure as hell has to be" is an inadequate excuse.
It isn't even because the warm breeze and trickles of melting snow entice James or Sirius (or even Peter, the traitor!) to pull Remus outside at random points during the day ("c'mon, Moony, people already think you're some kind of bibliophilic vampire") to play Quidditch, walk, run, or do something that doesn't involve any thinking -- but does involve about six tonnes of mud and a single rubber boot.
It's because the castle is temperature-controlled in wintertime, thanks to the house elves' careful attention to the boilers, but spring -- damn it -- creeps in through the drapes and the windows and the open doors, bumping up the temperature a few degrees and causing Sirius to undo the top three-and-a-half buttons of his shirt during History of Magic (the fourth is thisclose to slipping out), which categorically ensures that Remus' attention will not be directed towards goblin rebellions.
So far this lesson, Remus has caught exactly three phrases: "caste system", "penguins in Africa" (who knows, with Binns?), and "full moon on Saturday" (whispered out of the corner of Sirius' mouth to James, and sending a thrill up Remus' spine at the notion that Sirius is thinking not about the five girls -- who also happen to be staring at Sirius, and don't hide it half so well as Remus can -- but rather about him).
Remus suspects that his next exam will earn him a failing mark, unless the questions somehow involve the curve of Sirius Black's collarbone.
end.
Feedback and concrit are both wrapped up in a little white box and treasured.
pairing: Remus/Sirius
rating: G
words: 440
summary: Remus Lupin has decided that he cannot stand spring, and this is why.
notes: Written a while ago; reposted from my writing journal. -- This ficlet uses something I like to call point-collapse -- the actual piece is set at one specific point in time, and the narrative collapses down to that point (if that makes any sense whatsoever). Also. It is utter fluff.
The Consequences of Springtime
Remus Lupin has decided that he cannot stand spring.
It isn't because of the long-awaited sunlight which filtered through the dorm's drapes this morning, waking the bloody terrors that are Sirius Black and James Potter a full two hours earlier than usual and thus ensuring that the entirety of Gryffindor house was roused by boisterous whoops and bellows at five forty-five AM. Remus' ears are still ringing with Sirius' imitated birdcall, which caused a) a first year to fall down two sets of stairs, breaking her collarbone, and b) the death of Peter's pet fish ("Sorry, mate -- but what kind of self-respecting wizard keeps a bloody fish, anyway?").
It isn't because of the spring pollens cause James Potter to sniffle and sneeze and moan and complain. (Who would have known -- the great Potter, champion of the Quidditch field, allergic to dandelion fluff?) His state of suffering has somehow led James to the conclusion that he is morally obligated to pull twice as many pranks. Remus doesn't understand his logic -- isn't sure that Prongs has any -- but somehow thinks that "if I have to be miserable, Snivellus sure as hell has to be" is an inadequate excuse.
It isn't even because the warm breeze and trickles of melting snow entice James or Sirius (or even Peter, the traitor!) to pull Remus outside at random points during the day ("c'mon, Moony, people already think you're some kind of bibliophilic vampire") to play Quidditch, walk, run, or do something that doesn't involve any thinking -- but does involve about six tonnes of mud and a single rubber boot.
It's because the castle is temperature-controlled in wintertime, thanks to the house elves' careful attention to the boilers, but spring -- damn it -- creeps in through the drapes and the windows and the open doors, bumping up the temperature a few degrees and causing Sirius to undo the top three-and-a-half buttons of his shirt during History of Magic (the fourth is thisclose to slipping out), which categorically ensures that Remus' attention will not be directed towards goblin rebellions.
So far this lesson, Remus has caught exactly three phrases: "caste system", "penguins in Africa" (who knows, with Binns?), and "full moon on Saturday" (whispered out of the corner of Sirius' mouth to James, and sending a thrill up Remus' spine at the notion that Sirius is thinking not about the five girls -- who also happen to be staring at Sirius, and don't hide it half so well as Remus can -- but rather about him).
Remus suspects that his next exam will earn him a failing mark, unless the questions somehow involve the curve of Sirius Black's collarbone.
end.
Feedback and concrit are both wrapped up in a little white box and treasured.
