The Archive of Stuff

Poe Story

Wed, 05 Nov 2003 15:26:21 GMT

Author: Damian Kaziah
Title: Untitled
Disclaimer: The story of Ligeia was written by Poe, and I give him all rights to it. After all, he is a dark genius and I adore him.
Notes: Wrote this for my American Literature class.

I was wrong. My theory that a strong will can defeat death was proven only half correct, and as, not to be arrogant, most of my theories have always proven themselves conclusively I found this most disconcerting.

If the body is resigned to death, the spirit cannot forestall the inevitable. If the body has become too weak a vessel, the soul must leave it no matter how much it may wish to remain in life. The strongest will cannot force vitality into withered limbs, and I feel I can say this for I do believe that if it were possible I would have accomplished it.

Mind over matter is a false statement, and therein lies the fault in my reasoning. I assumed that merely because I did not want to die, in fact very greatly wished to live and remain with my much beloved husband, that I should be able to force my body to heal and continue on. This proved not the case.

Yet some modicum of success is possible if the will is strong enough, and I have contented myself with being only half correct. The body may die, but if the spirit is strong enough it will find a way to live on.

My opportunity came when my darling husband remarried. I bore no anger towards him for his actions, as it has been often proven that men remarry quickly after losing a wife as they seem to be dependant on women, often thought to stem from their bond with their mothers.

She, however, I loathed. Not because she had his heart, for she did not, but because she was alive and able to be with him. If anything, her ambivalence towards my husband only served to enrage me more.

When I found myself dead, I was frustrated and angry. Yet, as time passed I found that my spirit lingered near my husband and I was able to remain with him, though he was unaware of it.

The more time that passed the stronger my spirit grew until I was able to influence the physical realm. It was in this way that I caused the Lady Rowena to grow ill, and eventually to kill her. There is no mystery to the way my husbands thoughts lingered on me during her illness, for I was very much there.

Once she had finally died and her spirit had fled, I set about stealing the abandoned body for myself, for in all respects the body was perfectly well save for the illness I had caused it.

My earliest efforts proved the most ineffective, as I found that there was still too much of Rowena’s lingering spirit about the body. Her countenance was still too much her own, I suppose.

The only way I was able to make progress was by forcing the body into a rapid decay. After almost an entire night of labor, the body was finally so desiccated that I was able to inhabit it. Perhaps it sounds madness, but I assure you that there was no other way.

A supreme act of will, aided by the fact that my darling husband was sitting nearby and watching in a horrified fascination, enabled me to not only join with the body, but to stand and hobble towards him.

I confess that at first I was rather disoriented by being once more in the physical realm, and he was certainly shocked to see me before him, but after a time of tumultuous emotion and outright terror, we have managed to settle into our old routine.

I’m rather fond of this old abbey. It’s as cold as the grave I managed to escape from.

Accessory

Mon, 25 Aug 2003 18:56:19 GMT

Title: Accessory
Author: Damian Kaziah
Disclaimer: Not my characters
Rating: G
Archives: Whoever wants it
Spoiler: OotP
Notes: Yes, Siri comes back. Why not? No explanation given, this wrote itself because I wanted to use those first few lines.

Accessory

To say that Remus and Sirius were in love, Harry decided, was like saying Ron had red hair.
The statement was indisputably true, yet was also a gross understatement. Ron’s hair was red, yes, but it was a violent and explosive red that one couldn’t help but notice and occasionally stare at. The love Remus and Sirius shared was exactly the same way.
It oozed from their pores. It dripped from their eyes and apparently their lips as well, the way they always leaned in together to whisper sweet nothings. Harry didn’t even want to imagine how romantic they got behind closed doors, when they couldn’t even keep their hands to themselves in public. They were forever stealing kisses, and brief touches that meant nothing and everything.
All in all, they lived in their own little paradise and sometimes Harry felt rather out of place.
Now, he wasn’t about to complain. They also made a point of showing him how much they adored him. Sirius lavished him with expensive gifts and Remus was always eager to take him out to concerts and plays.
Separately, they were everything he had ever wanted in a family. Everything he ever could have wanted. But when they were together he knew that he was merely an accessory of their world, and not in fact at the center of it.
While it bothered him some, he realized his treatment was better than it ever had been with the Dursley’s, and he also realized that they would probably calm down and stop being so romantic once things had gotten into a routine. After all, they had assumed Sirius dead. It was only natural that his lover would want to constantly reaffirm his continued life with constant contact.
So Harry resigned himself to wait, and occupied his time with his friends.
And wondered if he would ever find anyone that could possibly love him like that.

Chapter Five

Sat, 23 Aug 2003 19:40:05 GMT

Author: Damian Kaziah
Notes: Chapter five of my book, if any of you are actually bothering to read it.

Chapter Five

The two hiked for the rest of the day, through the rest of the town and back into the hilly countryside. Sometime around early evening, Orea noticed how badly Lystrian was dragging and realized suddenly that he hadn’t slept at all the night before, and probably not all that much the night before that, as he would likely have been too excited to properly rest.
While she knew there would be occasions where they would be deprived of sleep for very extended periods, she also reasoned that he was new to traveling, and there was no good reason that they couldn’t just set up camp for the night once they reached a clearing she was familiar with in the woods they were hiking through.
Lystrian was silent, obviously concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, and she was glad he wasn’t bothering to complain. Though she rather suspected it was because he was too tired, and not because he didn’t feel the need to do so.
Moments after deciding where they would camp, their feet led them into that very clearing.
The woods were thick with trees, but once one had gotten halfway through them there was a very large clearing, full of lush grasses that were perfect for sleeping on. Not too far into the woods beyond the clearing was a small stream that allowed tired travelers to refill their water supplies.
Three or four other groups were already settled in for the night when Orea drew Lystrian into a little niche on the side of a small rise and dropped her packs. His dull eyes watched her with a slight spark of hope. “We’re setting up camp here tonight,” she told him and was gratified to see his face light up with relief.
“Thank the Goddess!” he exclaimed, wiggling out of his packs and flopping down onto the grass, eyes focused upwards on the shining stars above.
Orea smiled and nudged him with her foot. “How about you go get us some wood for a fire so I can cook some food?”
“Why do I have to do it?”
“Because I told you too.”
“Why do you get to order me around?” he asked indignantly, propping himself up on his elbows and glaring at her.
“Because I’m in charge of this trip, obviously.”
He snorted. “And where did you ever get that idea?”
“I’m the one that knows about traveling. I’m the oldest, and I’m the most powerful. Face it, if you don’t obey me willingly, I can make sure you obey me out of fear.”
“Is that a threat?”
“If I said yes, would you believe me?”
He considered that for a moment, then shook his head slowly. “No. I know you too well. You would never do anything that would hurt me badly.”
“Then how about you agree to do what I ask of you because you know that I know what needs to be done?”
“I don’t feel like arguing with you,” he finally sighed, dropping back to the ground. “It would save time that I could be sleeping if I just gave in now.”
“So you see, you’re not completely stupid.”
Swearing under his breath, he awkwardly levered himself to his feet and staggered off into the woods, looking around for dry brush that they could use for a small fire.
Once he had just about enough and was getting ready to turn back, he happened upon a lovely flat rock beside the stream. The temptation was too great and he set his bundle down beside the rock and pulled off his boots. Sitting on the rock, he dipped his feet in the water and watched leaves whip by on the current.
Contemplating all that he had left behind, and all that he would surely learn in the future, he was unaware that anyone was around until he saw her reflection in the water.
Gazing upwards, he saw the Elven woman. Her hair was very long and a vibrant red color that held a touch of copper. It was that metallic trace that made her hair stand out from her wine red dress. The dress had obviously seen better days, as the hem with its gold trim was slightly mud spattered, and even ripped in one spot.
She had a sword on her hip and a sumptuous cloak thrown over her shoulders. Her eyes were fixed intently on him as he studied her.
“Who are you?” he finally asked.
“A mere wanderer,” she replied vaguely.
“Why do you watch me?”
“Because the moon reflects off of your hair in rather interesting patterns,” she replied. “And because I feel like you are someone that I shall meet again.”
Cocking his head to the side, he gazed at her again. “I am just beginning my travels, yet you have obviously been on your own journey for a very long time. Certainly I can learn a great deal about the life I am taking up from you.”
“Yes, a teacher,” she agreed, her eyes traveling to the play of shadow on the water. These she stared at for a long while until Lystrian began to think she had forgotten about him. Then suddenly her eyes were back on his face. “Until we meet again, young one,” she said abruptly.
“Until that time,” he replied, placing his forefinger and middle finger against his chest, and then raising them to the middle of his forehead, while slightly inclining his head. It was a customary gesture in Zatar indicating respect for a teacher.
When he looked back up, she was gone. Despite that, he agreed with her. He didn’t think he had seen the last of the odd Elven woman.

“And there he is now,” he heard Orea telling someone as he stepped back into the meadow.
She was seated on a log talking to a burly human man clad in ragged clothing. The man looked Lystrian up and down appraisingly and then turned speculative eyes to Orea. “He looks strong and healthy, sure, but he also looks like he hasn’t lived a day of hard labor in his life.”
“I’ll concede that he’s been pretty pampered, but I have seen him get dirty while gardening or hunting.”
“He looks to me like a noble,” the man persisted as Lystrian approached, setting down his bundle of wood.
“He is a noble,” Orea informed him. “One just set out on the road, so he still has that polished and refined air to him.”
“You’re not running from anything, are you?”
“The only thing he’s running from is a boring life in a lavish palace. He got bored.”
Glancing again at Lystrian and then back at Orea, the man nodded. “I’m inclined to believe you. You two don’t have a hunted look about you. So, you’ll come?”
“We’ll be up and ready to go at dawn.”
“Very well, ma’am. Thank you for your time.”
“No, thank you,” Orea smiled charmingly at him. He grinned back, obviously falling for the smile as he donned the grubby cap he had been twisting between his dirt encrusted hands.
Slowly he stood up, nodded in passing to Lystrian, and then returned to his own campsite where his companions sat waiting for him. When he reached them, one asked him something quietly. He replied, and apparently his friend found the answer satisfactory as he smiled a greeting at Orea and Lys. Orea nodded back, and then both groups turned their attention back to their own dinners.
“What’s going on?” Lys demanded as Orea went about starting a fire. “And why do I think I won’t like the answer.”
“We’re going with them to a nearby farm to help them harvest the crops.”
“Why?” he inquired, not surprised at all that he didn’t like the information.
“For money, of course.”
“But we don’t need any money yet! We just started out!”
She looked at him levelly. “Lys, when you’re traveling you always need money. Even if you have a full money purse, you always need to be looking out for more. It’s not just greed, either. At some point the money we have right now will be gone, and I would rather that we have more money on hand when that happens so we don’t have to scramble around looking for more money in utter desperation. This job presented itself, so I accepted it. The work won’t be too hard and the wages are good. It would be foolish to turn it down because you don’t want to get your hands dirty.”
Lystrian merely glared sullenly at her.
“I know you’re not happy, but you can’t fault my logic.”
Heaving a sigh of long suffering, he looked down. “No, I can’t fault your logic.”
“Then could you please stop acting like I just told you that we have to kill and eat your horse?”
At the mention of the very idea he glared at her and turned his back on her, causing her to laugh. “You’re such a child sometimes.”
“But we will get to do some mercenary work, won’t we?” he suddenly asked out of the blue.
She blinked a few times, then turned back to the fire, and the meat she was roasting on it. “I’m sure that will be the majority of our income,” she agreed. “Mercenary jobs pay the best because not just anyone can do them. You and I are both skilled fighters. You’re an amazing archer and an excellent swordsman and strategist. I can do magic. Both of us would be highly sought after for our skills. However, I don’t know if being able to do so much mercenary work is necessarily a good thing.”
Turning back around, Lystrian raised an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t it be a good thing?”
“It’s very dangerous work, Lys. Not only are you fighting people who will try to kill you, but sometimes other mercenaries on your own side will try to do away with you if they think it would get them more money. They have a reputation for being unsavory individuals for a reason. Not to mention the fact that some trained armies don’t like working with any mercenaries their leaders might take on. There are any number of dangers associated with the lifestyle above and beyond the obvious. I can’t think of a single mercenary I’ve met that didn’t have at least one mortal enemy out there that was trying to kill them.”
She glanced up and watched the fire dancing in his wide eyes. “And why do I get the sinking feeling that none of those warnings have made you want to do it any less?”
He grinned roguishly at her and began setting up his pallet. She groaned and muttered something about naive young Elves before pulling the meat out of the fire and serving it in the bowls they had packed.
They turned in early that night, as the next day they would be getting up at dawn to spend the entire day doing heavy labor.

Chapter Four

Mon, 04 Aug 2003 20:39:45 GMT

Author: Damian Kaziah
Notes: This followed rather quickly after chapter three, which is amazing in and of itself. The length of this one is also rather amusing. I'm quite pleased with this chapter, for a rough draft.

Chapter Four

At first the walk seemed exciting and new. Lystrian was seeing places he had never seen and going places he had never been. The future was a great open expanse and all he had to do was decide which way to turn.
However, sometime around mid morning this feeling lost its novelty. After all, he was a noble and had done very little hard labor in his entire life. Now, he found his feet were beginning to hurt. “Where exactly are we going again?” he demanded of Orea, almost mortified at the note of petulant whining he heard in his own voice.
If she heard it, she didn’t comment. “You said you wanted to see the ocean, and so that’s where we’re going.”
“We’ll be walking for months!”
“Years, more like.”
“Years?”
“Well, my dear boy, you don’t think we have enough food on our backs right now to get us all the way to the ocean, do you? We’ll have to make a good many stops on the way to find jobs. Some of these jobs may take months, some even years. We’re going to be traveling all over the continent, Lys. Look at it this way,” she amended at the sour look on his face, “You’ll have great stories you can tell to impress everyone at home.”
“If my feet don’t fall off first,” he grumbled, glaring down at the offending appendages.
Orea laughed and tossed her head so that her hair was out of her face. “Your feet will get used to it, my poor little prince.”
“When are we stopping today?”
“We’re going to stop to eat at midday. We should be reaching the town in roughly two hours.”
“And I take it that we’re not going to be stopping before that point?”
“It will be good for you. Builds character.”
“According to the stories back home, I already have quite enough character, thank you very much.”
She reached over and ruffled his hair. “Yes, dear. I have heard the stories.”
His blue eyes darkened with irritation, and he turned his face away with a little huff, which amused her greatly. A dark mood seemed to settle over him and not another word was spoken between them until they were standing at the top of a hill gazing down at the little town of Dingley.
“Is it time to eat now?”
“It’s time to eat now.”
Lystrian seemed to come alive again and his dull plodding steps developed a distinct bounce to them as he headed off down the hill. Orea noticed he was trying to subtly straighten his hair and primp a bit. “Such a peacock,” she thought dryly.
At the bottom of the hill she caught up with him and grabbed his elbow, gently guiding him to the nearest inn. “I’ve been through this town a good number of times now,” she informed him, “And I have learned that the only place it is safe to eat here is at the Silver Unicorn.”
Nodding uncomprehendingly at the very idea of inedible food, Lystrian allowed himself to be guided into the small, plain establishment and settled at a table in the corner. Orea promptly ordered for both of them, earning herself another nasty look.
“I don’t trust most of what they serve here.”
“You said this was the only safe place to eat!”
“I didn’t say all of the food was safe, now did I?”
Lystrian grumbled about how he had given up the finest chefs in the land to go on this journey, and Orea gazed idly off into the crowd, her chin cupped in her elegant hand, while her elbow rested on the table.
After several minutes of complaining, Lys glanced at his companion and noticed that her eyes were now slowly tracking back and forth across the room. He followed her gaze and saw that she was, in fact, watching someone. A rather pretty young serving wench, to be specific. The girl was innocent and obviously new to the job as she had a tendency to chew on her delicate lower lip in concentration while taking orders. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a slightly sloppy braid that trailed down over her shoulder and came to rest against her right breast so that it seemed to have a life of its own as the girl walked.
Rolling his eyes, Lystrian looked again at Orea and chuckled. One of the many reasons they got along so well was their vastly different taste in bed partners. While at one point Orea had taken lovers from both genders, she had finally grown annoyed with men.
“Not worth the bother, I’ll tell you,” she had felt the need to tell him one night after they had been drinking for some time. “If they actually know where everything on a woman is, it’s a wonder! Sometimes they’ll attempt foreplay, but most of the time they don’t bother at all. And once they’re satiated, that’s the end. It doesn’t matter if you think so or not! Honestly, no courtesy. Men don’t know how to treat a lady.”
Lystrian had decided not to point out that Orea wasn’t much of a lady. However, he was glad that he had no interest in women at all. They sounded a bit too complicated in more ways than the emotional ones.
“How long will the food take?” he asked after his stomach growled rather loudly.
Her brown eyes never once stopped following the serving wench as she replied, “Impossible to tell. It will either be just short of charred or still bleeding. Based on the fact that it hasn’t arrived yet, I would wager it will be a bit crispy.”
“Wonderful,” he groaned. “So, if I may inquire, what’s so fascinating about that young woman?”
“Her braid.”
“Ah. I see. Though I desperately wish I didn’t. What the use of breasts is, I’ll never know.”
“I could give you a few ideas, but I think they would scar you for life, my dear little lover of men.”
“On second thought, I think you’re right. I’ll never know, and I don’t ever want to. Thank you for sparing me.”
“It’s more difficult to travel with someone who is comatose, so I’ll admit that my reasons are not exactly noble ones. In other circumstances I would greatly enjoy pointing out the virtues of breasts.”
“I’m sure you would. Say, are those mercenaries over there?”
Startled by the abrupt change of subject, Orea turned her attention back to her companion who was lazily observing a group of heavily armed men who were ingesting a rather large quantity of mead.
Taking in their disheveled and unwashed appearance, the ragged clothing and the very expensive swords belted at their waists, she nodded slowly. “Yes, I do believe they probably are.”
“Since you said we were going to be taking odd jobs on our trip, would that make us mercenaries as well?” His blue eyes glowed with the excitement of the idea. Oh yes, he had listened to one too many Bards in those safe and secure halls back home. For some reason he now thought the life of a mercenary with all of its danger and lack of bathing was romantic somehow.
“Not exactly,” she explained with a sigh. “We’re traveling, yes. We will be seeking jobs where we can find them, yes. Some of the jobs probably will be mercenary work, I’ll concede. However, it is not our career. We are traveling to see the sights and eventually reach the ocean. They are traveling to find a new employer. There is a slight difference.”
“What other sorts of jobs will we be doing?”
Orea was fully aware that he wouldn’t like some of the more likely options, so she was relieved when their food finally arrived and served as an interruption.
“You were right,” he commented once the wench, a rather frumpy and unattractive middle aged woman and therefore of no interest to Orea, was gone. “It is slightly burned.”
Chuckling slightly at the expression of distaste on his handsome face, Orea pulled her knife from her belt and set to cutting up the meat. “You can always eat around those parts, my pampered little prince. Or shall I cut it for you? Is that too much work you’re not accustomed to?”
Glaring at her, he stabbed the meat with his knife, before removing it and setting about cutting it. “I’ve had worse.”
“Your cooking attempts on those hunting trips you go on with your friends?”
“Be quiet.”
Too hungry to argue, she let it slide. After all, they would be traveling together for a very long time. Other opportunities to tease him about his dubious cooking skills would surely arise in the not too distant future.
Several minutes later, the food was gone. Or at least the food on Orea’s plate was gone and she surveyed the hunks of meat left on Lystrian’s plate. He had only eaten about half of the slab. Apparently his taste buds were far too delicate to risk eating anything that may even be slightly burnt. Well, he would learn once he had gone hungry for a while.
“Are we ready to move on?” she inquired sweetly. “Or are your poor feet still too sore to go on?”
“I can go on. The more I push them, the sooner they’ll adjust to the extra labor.”
“Very practical of you.”
“Surprising, isn’t it?”
“Only a little. If you were a complete idiot I wouldn’t have agreed to travel with you.”
“How flattering. However shall I take such a compliment?”
“Exactly as it was meant. As a mild insult.”
“Why did I agree to subject myself to this for an undisclosed amount of time again?”
“Wouldn’t you know it, but I’ve been asking that same question since late last night. However, I think I can answer your question for you. Because I’m wonderful, powerful, beautiful, wise, perfect and the only soul you know that travels at all.”
“That may be it.”
They continued their verbal banter as they made their way out of the inn and into the bright sunlight. “Consider yourself lucky. Today is a lovely, sunny day. Take it as a good omen. After all, we’ll probably spend a good deal of time walking in the rain.” Orea grinned at her companion, who smirked back.
“I find that most acceptable. After all, I look really sexy in the rain.” He turned on his heel and headed off down the main road before he could hear the snort of indignation he expected at his next remark. “I’m sure you’ll be longing for my tender touch by the end of the first moon.”
A clod of dirt hit him in the back, and they quickly gave up all pretense of being adults as they sprinted out of the town, laughing and shoving each other like children.
“Must be the start of a journey,” one mercenary commented to his companion, who sighed and rolled her eyes.
“They’ll learn.”

Imagine a Body

Sun, 03 Aug 2003 00:40:20 GMT

Title: Imagine a Body
Author: Damian Kaziah
Notes: Wrote this short essay for a contest. We'll see if I actually win anything with it. I doubt it. My luck has never been that good, and I'm not that talented.

Imagine a Body

Imagine you hate your body. Judging by the number of people who come into my workplace in order to purchase the new product to help them lose weight, this is a fairly common feeling. But just take a moment to think about a hatred that even weight loss and exercise can’t help, because nothing you do will make your body look the way you want it to. Nothing short of completely changing who you are.
Imagine you’re still a virgin, and you’re thinking of sex. It’s in a completely speculative way, of course. After all, you’ve never gotten into a relationship that’s lasted long enough for you even to consider sex. How would you feel if you can’t imagine it, because you can barely stand to be naked alone? Would it even be possible to allow nudity with someone else in the room? Not only in the room, but right there with you, watching you.
After all, why would anyone else want to see you naked if you don’t even like to look down in the shower?
Imagine you find someone suddenly that doesn’t care what you look like. They love you for who you are, and you are amazingly comfortable with them. So long as it is this person, you don’t mind being naked, and for a while you forget how much you hate your body. Your distaste is completely blown away by their adoration and worship.
Imagine now that this perfect relationship is strained because their family doesn’t like you. They don’t like you because you curve where their child curves and you are flat where their child is flat.
Imagine them trying to tear away the one thing that makes you happy with yourself and all that you are.
Suddenly you learn to hate your body even more than you ever had before.

Backward Glance

Wed, 23 Jul 2003 05:44:32 GMT

Title: Backward Glance
Author: Damian Kaziah
Summary: Peter attempts to explain to his memory of James why he did it.
Spoilers: PoA
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not my characters. Only my twisted little mind.
Archive: Anywhere that wants it. May be a bit after what DSM wants, timewise, but welcome there all the same for the Peter/Anyone category.
Dedication: I don't know if anyone would want this little piece of work.
Warnings: Death and angst. Obviously.
Notes: I noticed that no one writes a story about Peter and a relationship. So, I attempted to do so. Mildly disturbing, I suppose, but then A and I have a sick sense of humor. This, however, is not funny at all.

Backward Glance

Had I known the rush of power I would get from this deed, I would have agreed immediately to help him. All of my life I had been a mere spectator. One of the multitudes of admirers who flocked around you three. I wasn’t as brilliant, skilled, powerful or attractive, and unfortunately I was not made more popular by association.
I played the role of mindless sycophant. The chubby, ugly and devoted follower of the illustrious three, allowed to associate with them only because I was in the same year and house.
You three always granted me more respect than the rest of the school. I was let in on your secrets, and your pranks. We were friends, and you all did care for me.
Just never enough. Never in the way I wanted you all to. Never in the way I wanted you to care for me.
Perhaps I felt so powerful because it was Sirius Black I was controlling and deceiving. With just a few well put words with just the right touch of concern, I had him doubting the loyalties of his own lover. I knew perfectly well that Remus would sooner have died than betray you, but Sirius was not beyond doubt, and it was I who planted those seeds.
Sometimes I think that it was only the sense of duty your family had instilled in you since your youth that made you marry Lily Evans. I’ve no doubt you did love her, but I also have very little doubt that you would have run off with Sirius in your youth and never allowed yourself to fall for her in the first place had your family not ritually lectured you almost every weekend once you hit puberty.
It was obvious to Remus and I how intense your feelings for each other were. Sirius was the only one who could make you behave. The only one who could reign in your mischief, not that he bothered all that often. Nor did you bother to restrain him when he stepped out of line. You were inseparable, the two halves of a whole.
And I envied him for it.
Remus was displeased about it as well, though he never spoke a word about it. When you married Lily, his life lit up and Sirius was finally his. He knew perfectly well that Sirius would not have fallen into his arms if you had called to him instead. However, he was content to count his blessings and they were happy together.
Though on some level I think Sirius resented Remus, because he wasn’t you. It was this resentment that gave me the power over him. The power to make him question himself, his lover, and to give me the prize my Master was seeking. Your location.
I arrived on the scene only minutes after you were killed. I stepped gingerly through the rubble and found your body. You were mostly unmarred, eyes closed as if asleep. Gently I smoothed your unruly hair back and kissed your forehead.
You were never mine in life, but you could be mine in death, for I was the one who caused your death. In death, yes, you would always be mine.
And in pain and jealousy I made my next move, to frame the one who truly held your heart.
Amazing, is it not James, how love can go so wrong when thwarted? If only you had given me a second glance. Then you may have realized that I was in love with you. Too late for ‘what if’ now though. There’s no going back.

A Dedication

Tue, 22 Jul 2003 02:23:16 GMT

Title: A Dedication
Author: Damian Kaziah
Disclaimer: JK Rowling's characters.
Rating: G
Spoilers: PoA?
Summary: Sirius simply tells James how much he loves him in a letter.
Dedication: To my best and dearest friend, Adriane "Prongs". You know I love you. It's why I wrote this for you.
Archives: Anyone who wants it.
Notes: This was written before OotP, as you can tell from the comment about Siri's mum and he being close. We now know they weren't close at all!

A Dedication

I feel like a real heel sometimes, you know that Jamie? To which you will reply, “But you are a heel, Siri. Or maybe an ass.”
Maybe I’m both. I don’t know. But I do know that I love you.
Yes, you read that right. I love you. And yes, this is going to turn into one of those long, sentimental letters, like the ones I send to Remus. Because Jamie, I love you too, just as much as I love Remy. There’s just a difference in the way I love you.
You are my twin. My brother. My best friend, and the other half of my brain. You’ve been by my side before I was even old enough to know that you can’t get through life alone.
Sometimes you hear about people who have been friends for twenty years or something. There’s just one thing; these people are usually older. Sure, twenty years is a big deal, but considering their ages, they must have met when they were our current age or older. Twenty years, great. Staying friends from age seven to age nineteen, now that’s impressive. I mean, think about it. How many changes do we go through in those childhood years? I know I’m not the same person I was when we first met, and neither are you. But those changes have only brought us closer, and that is an accomplishment.
I don’t tell you how much you mean to me as often as I should, Jamie. Truth of the matter is, whenever I even think of you, my heart swells with love for you, like it does for Remy. Only there isn’t that element of fear when I think of you. Course, we both know the fear is from my current situation with him.
For that, I also thank you. Jamie, I don’t know what I would have done had you not been supportive of me and Remus. I really don’t know what would have happened, because I love you both and don’t want to give either of you up. I’m glad I didn’t have to.
And I’m sorry for those few months there where we were slightly estranged. I knew it was happening, but I couldn’t help myself. I was addicted to Remy’s company. I’m honestly surprised it took me so long to figure out what the difference was. Oh well, you both tease me about being oblivious. What can I say? I’m an idiot.
The other day when you told me how important I was to you over lunch, that really meant a lot to me. I wanted to respond in kind, but I’m no good at expressing my emotions out loud like that. I prefer to write them down and keep them organized. Besides, love is a really hard thing to put into words, as attempting to write love letters to Remus has taught me. I’ve found that the best way to do it is to be honest and frank. The emotion comes through, even if it doesn’t sound like some great literary work.
Jamie, I want to be able to call you over for lunch fifty years from now, sixty, a hundred. And I want us to always know each other, and be this close, or closer. Because life would just be way too weird if I didn’t know you anymore.
How many times have we read each other’s minds? How long can we sit in the same room and do our own things and still have it be a comfortable silence? How open can we be with each other about everything? I mean, I tell you things I can’t tell my mum! And you know how close I am to my mum!
So, James, I say it again. I love you. I always will. I’m here for you, no matter what, always. Even if we don’t talk for thirty years, due to some circumstance beyond our control, if you call me out of the blue and need a favor, I’ll do it. Anything for you.
Thank you.

Chapter Three

Tue, 22 Jul 2003 02:20:40 GMT

Title: Untitled
Author: Damian Kaziah
Notes: Chapter three of my original novel. Short, but it's only a first draft. Bear with me people. And please, please leave me feedback!

Chapter Three

The woods ended at the top of one of the steep hills that surrounded the country, effectively cutting it off from the rest of the world. Orea and Lystrian were near enough to the edge of the woods that they could see the night sky ahead of them through the thick branches.
A twig cracked ahead of them and a shadow blocked their path. Instantly Lystrian had his sword in his hand as he stepped ahead of Orea to protect her. She found this mildly annoying, as they both knew that of the two she was most certainly the better armed with her magic.
“Calm down, Lys. It’s only me.” The figure drew nearer and his pale skin reflected the dim moonlight that filtered down through the trees.
Lystrian sheathed his sword with an exasperated sigh. “Morgan, you should know better than to suddenly appear in front of me like that when I’m not expecting you. Especially when I’m this on edge.”
“How was I to know you were on edge?” the handsome young Elf asked wryly, stepping close to Lystrian and putting his hands on the other Elf’s waist in a rather intimate display.
Lystrian snorted. “Would it not be obvious? I am only sneaking out of my home country in the middle of the night to explore parts unknown from which I may never return.”
“That is what I was afraid you would say,” Morgan sighed, his green eyes darkening with sorrow. “I do not want to see you go.”
“Then you should have stayed in your bed.”
“I may not want to see you go, but I would also never forgive myself for not saying goodbye to you properly. The farewell letter I’m sure you left on my desk would not warm my heart on the cold nights I shall be spending without you. Only a proper goodbye kiss could help me.”
“Then take your kiss and let me pass. This is proving difficult enough. I know Wind wasn’t pleased with me.”
“To be sure. He’s an intelligent creature. He knows perfectly well that he would enjoy travelling with you like this.”
“There will be too many hardships. I couldn’t put him through that. What if I end up in a battle? If he were with me, he would be at risk.”
“And so would I if I were to join you.”
“I also realize that. I wanted you to come anyway.”
“I’m sure you did. Why did you not speak to me about it?”
“Your mother is ill. I couldn’t take you away from her now!” Lystrian sighed and leaned back against a nearby tree, the packs digging painfully into his back. With a grimace he stood upright again. Orea chuckled and he shot her a dirty look.
“I understand. Perhaps I will track you down when she is well.”
“You are the best tracker in the kingdom,” Lys conceded with a fond smile.
Morgan smiled back. “Shall I claim that goodbye kiss now?”
“If you wish.”
“I wish that you would stay, but as that is not an option.” Eyes shimmering with unshed tears; Morgan once again drew near to his childhood friend and frequent lover. His hands reached up of their own accord and threaded through the silken locks. “I shall miss you,” he whispered before pressing his lips against Lystrian’s.
Lystrian felt his arms encircling Morgan, and he held on tightly. If he had considered his farewell to Wind difficult, this was infinitely more so. Finally he released his lover and stepped back. “We must be on our way. Orea and I hope to make the next town by noon.”
Morgan nodded in understanding. “May the Goddess watch over you both.”
“And may She guide you true.”
Without a backward glance, Lystrian and Orea continued on their way. Morgan watched their figures shrink into the distance until they were out of sight before he melted back into the shadows of the trees.
And so Lystrian was truly beyond his home and all he had ever known.

This Could All Be Yours...

Wed, 09 Jul 2003 16:52:21 GMT

Title: This Could All Be Yours...
Author: Damian Kaziah
Summary: Sirius decides to get Remus a little something special this Christmas
Disclaimer: Not my characters (save Apollo) or my idea
Dedication: To BaiLing from SBRL who suggested this fic for the Christmas challenge.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: PoA?
Notes: Check out 'Sirius' live journal and leave him comments! He'll be sure to get back to you. http://www.blurty.com/users/infamouspadfoot/

This Could All Be Yours…

"Y' haven told him yet?" James asked, squinting at his best
friend across the table. He thought he saw Sirius shrug, but it was
hard to tell, as he had apparently misplaced his glasses at some
point.
"No," Sirius sighed. "I wan' ta find the perf'ct way ta tell
him, but I haven' figured it out yet. Cho' think a ring would be
too, uh, too…."
"Shudden?" James asked, lifting his mug and drinking deeply.
"Somethin like tha," Sirius snorted, flinging his hands out
and knocking over an empty mug, which caused both of the thoroughly
inebriated young men to giggle drunkenly.
"Y could a'ways try givin him an album full of pic-tures o'
you naked, and write on the front, `This coul' all be yours'," James
suggested, scratching his head. "Oh, there they are," he muttered,
his hands finding where his glasses had been resting on his forehead.
"Hey! Good idea!" Sirius exclaimed, before his head fell to
the table and he passed out.
James poked him a few times, decided a nap was a really good
idea, and put his own head down, albeit much less violently.

The next morning Sirius somehow remembered James' idea about
the photo album, despite his pounding hangover and the bruise on his
forehead. However, while any rational person would have realized
that the nude photos would have been a bad idea, Sirius was not all
that rational when it came to Remus.
He had been in love with his friend since their fourth year
at Hogwarts, and had never quite gotten around to telling him.
Either the place was wrong, or the situation wasn't right, or he
didn't know what to say. And so, for five years he had lived with
his feelings, telling only James.
However, despite his lack of confidence about the reception
he would get from Remus if he did confess, he had supreme confidence
in his looks, and this translated to the idea that if Remus didn't
want him after seeing him naked, then Remus was too daft to be
bothered with.
After downing a potion made to deal with hangovers, Sirius
padded into his living room, wearing only some loose black pajama
pants and a thoughtful expression. He settled down on his sofa with
a listing of all of the wizarding businesses in the area, and turned
to photographers.
"I didn't know there were so many," he muttered, glancing
over the listings. With a heavy sigh, he set about eliminating some,
either because they were too far away, seemed cheap, or were way too
expensive, even for him.
Just as he was about to give up, an elaborate add on the last
page caught his eye. It was a vivid violet color, outlined in gold,
with elegant golden writing that advertised,:
"Apollo Olympius
If I can't make you beautiful,
you're beyond help."
A grin lit up Sirius' face, making his gray-blue eyes sparkle
with mischief. "Perfect," he muttered, and quickly began writing a
letter to the photographer to set up an appointment.

Apollo was too busy to work him in that week, but on the
following Monday, Sirius dressed in his dragonhide pants and a tight
black sweater, and headed out the door to his first photo session.
Just as he was locking the door, a voice called to him from
the sidewalk in front of his house. "Hi, Sirius!"
Sirius froze for a moment, like a rabbit caught in the
headlights. "He doesn't know where I'm going, or what I'm doing. Act natural," he assured himself, before turning around with a
smile. "Hey, Moony."
Remus Lupin stood at the end of the yard, dressed casually in
a pair of worn jeans, and bundled up in his long brown coat and old
Gryffindor scarf. His cheeks were flushed with the cold, and his
amber eyes were sparkling with the joy of the season. "What are you
up to today, Padfoot?"
"Oh. Just going to do some Christmas shopping," Sirius
shrugged. "Why?"
"Do you want to go together? I was planning to finish my
shopping today, and I wanted to know if you would like to join me."
Inwardly, Sirius kicked himself. It was exactly the sort of
thing he loved to do with Remus, especially if no one else was
around. But he didn't really have the time now, as he needed to have
his picture taken.
Sadly he shook his head, "I can't, Remus. I'm shopping for
you today, and I can't have you there while I do it."
"That's okay," Remus replied. "I understand. Talk to you
later then."
"Yeah. Bye." Sirius watched his friend Apparate away with a
heavy heart, then Apparated himself to the studio.
His moping was abruptly forgotten when he got his first
glimpse of Apollo.
The photographer was named aptly, as he resembled his
mythological counterpart to a great degree. His hair was long and
blond, and secured loosely with a scrap of violet ribbon. His eyes
were a deep blue, like the ocean, and his teeth were perfectly
straight and very, very white. Physically, while he wasn't bursting
with muscle, he was well toned and lean, as could be seen quite
clearly beneath his form hugging purple shirt and black pants.
And he wasn't just a good looking wizard, Sirius noted as he
caught sight of the newspaper clippings on the walls. He was a good
looking –gay- wizard. After all, there was really no reason for a
heterosexual male wizard to be named "Sexiest Gay in Wizardom".
"I assume you're Sirius Black," Apollo stated in a
surprisingly sensual voice.
"Er, yeah. That's me," Sirius confirmed, holding out a hand
to shake. Apollo's grip was firm, and Sirius found himself slightly
turned on.
"So, you wanted me to take nude photos of you. That is
correct, yes?"
"Yeah," Sirius agreed, looking at his feet.
"Excellent. Shall we get started then? And may I just say,
I think it will be a pleasure working with you. I do not often have
the chance to work with one as naturally attractive as yourself."
"Thanks," Sirius mumbled, following Apollo into his studio.
The studio was set up like many a photo studio. There was a
camera back in the shadows, and in the center of all the lights,
there was a place for the subject to sit, after choosing from a
multitude of different fabrics and textures. Behind the subject,
there were a number of backgrounds, only as this was a wizarding
studio, the backgrounds all moved.
"Now, what kind of look are you going for?" Apollo inquired.
Back on more familiar footing, Sirius found he could function
more normally, as long as he didn't look too closely at Apollo. "I'm
not actually sure," he confessed.
"For what purpose do you want these photos taken?"
"For my own amusement," Sirius told him after a pause. Why
he didn't want this gorgeous wizard to know he was having his
pictures taken to impress another guy, he didn't know. He just felt
that he would rather keep his true reason to himself.
"Very well," Apollo conceded. "Then may I suggest the dark
blue velvet fabric with, perhaps, storm clouds in the background?"
Before Sirius could comment, Apollo waved his wand and the rich blue velvet covered the couch that was set up, and the picture in the back changed to a vivid image of storm clouds periodically broken up by
flashes of lightening.
Sirius raised his eyebrows in appreciation. "Very nice," he
remarked.
"And now if you will take off your clothing and arrange
yourself, we can get started."
"Sure." Feeling himself back in control of the situation,
Sirius began disrobing while Apollo went over to his camera to begin adjusting the settings. Once Sirius stepped out of his pants, he
settled down on the sofa and stretched out in what he hoped was a
sexy way.
Apollo turned around and froze momentarily. "Oh yes, I shall
not mind this shoot in the slightest," he murmured more to himself
than to Sirius. Sirius, however, heard it and grinned.

Two days later, Sirius was brushing his hair and getting
ready to go out when there was a knock at his door. "Coming!" he
called as he looked at himself one more time in the mirror, and then
barreled down the hall to the front door.
He flung it open and swallowed hard. "Hey, Remus."
Remus smiled at him. "I was thinking about going ice skating
today. Do you want to come?"
Inwardly, Sirius groaned. Yet again, he had already made
plans and would have to pass up spending time with his beloved
Moony. But there was nothing he could do about it, so he sadly shook
his head. "I can't. Sorry. I've already got plans for today.
Maybe I'll come by this evening?"
His friend looked disappointed, but shrugged as if it didn't
bother him. "Okay. Sounds good. I'll see you this evening then."
"Yeah. Definitely," Sirius nodded, reaching out and gripping
Remus' shoulders. "I'll see you tonight."
"And I can give him his present then," Sirius added mentally
as Remus turned and walked away.
Just then, his eyes landed on his clock. "Shyte! I'm almost
late!" Hurriedly he Apparated out of his house and into the middle
of Hogsmeade where he arrived at the front doors of the Chat Noir
just as Apollo appeared out of thin air.
"You are here," Apollo observed, holding out a package full
of the developed photos.
"Of course! Like I would skip out on you!" Sirius teased,
taking the envelope and opening it, flipping through the
pictures. "Hey. These are great," he commented, unable to help
himself. "I am so gorgeous."
"Yes, you are," Apollo agreed, taking his elbow and leading
him into the restaurant. They were immediately led to a
table. "Which leads me to my next topic."
"Oh?" Sirius inquired, sitting down across from him, the
photos on the seat next to him. "And what topic would that be?"
"You are one of the most extraordinarily handsome men I have
ever seen. You also take amazingly beautiful photos. As such, I
think you would make an excellent model."
This caused Sirius to laugh outright. "I can't be a model!
I already have a job as an Auror!"
"It would bring in extra money," Apollo prompted. "And I
would very, very much like to work with you again."

At just this moment, Remus was walking the cheerily lit
streets, for lack of anything better to do. It was mere chance, a
caprice of Fate, that caused him to glance in the front window of the
restaurant he was passing, and see his best friend sitting at a table
and talking, apparently intimately, with an absolute sex god.
From his location, Remus could see the blond deity reach
under the table and place his hand on Sirius' thigh. An unidentified
emotion wracked the werewolf's deceptively thin frame, and with no
further thought, he Apparated to his warm home to sulk.

When he felt Apollo's hand on his thigh, Sirius jerked back
in his chair and clambered to his feet, grabbing the photos. "I have
to go now," he said lamely.
"But we have so much more to discuss!" Apollo protested,
worry causing his perfect brow to crease.
"I really have to go now," Sirius stated more firmly, and
then, dignity somewhat intact, he walked out the door. Once out of
sight, he leaned against a wall and took several deep breaths. He
had wanted Apollo; there was no doubt of that. But Sirius knew it
would have been shallow and empty.
He looked at the envelope clutched in his hand. He really
did have something to do. Something very important.

Remus was curled up in a chair by a small fire with his
favorite book. Had he glanced over his shoulder, he would have seen
his tastefully decorated Christmas tree twinkling. However, his mind
was lost in another world.
A knock at the door abruptly brought him back with a jerk.
He climbed out of his chair after marking his page, and crossed to
the door.
"Sirius," he observed, crossing his arms over his brown
sweater in an unconscious gesture of defensiveness.
"Hey Moony. Merry Christmas," Sirius grinned sheepishly,
holding a long, flat package in his hands.
"Actually, it's only Christmas Eve," Remus pointed out,
turning his back on his friend and walking back to his chair.
Sirius, being less dense than he often liked to let on, could
easily tell he was being shut out. Worried, he stepped in and closed
the door behind him, hanging his cloak on his personal reserved peg
on the wall then followed Remus into the living room.
"What's wrong?" he asked, seeing that Remus had picked his
book up again.
"Nothing," Remus replied, never one to complain or accuse.
Sirius crouched on the floor in front of him, covering the
pages with his hand. "Look at me, Remus," he prompted. Remus
reluctantly complied. "What is wrong with you?"
Looking away, Remus shrugged and ran a hand through his
shaggy hair. "I don't really know, actually," was the truthful reply.
"Very useful. Thank you." Glancing around, Sirius' eyes
fell on Remus' ice skates leaning against the wall. "Is this because
I couldn't go ice skating with you today? I really did have plans."
"Yes, I had noticed," Remus shot back, surprising both of
them with the bitterness of his tone.
"You noticed?" Sirius echoed, heart beginning to pound.
Remus could feel the red creeping into his cheeks. "I was
walking downtown and saw you with some blond guy. He had his hand on
your thigh," he pointed out, as if this somehow explained
everything. And actually, it did.
"Were you jealous?" Sirius breathed, trying to catch Remus'
eyes. Remus was being quite stubborn however, and pointedly ignoring
him.
"Yes. No. I don't know. Does it matter?"
"Perhaps I should explain then. I was merely meeting with
him to pick something up from him. Something for you, actually. I
didn't expect him to hit on me like that."
"And what did you do?" Remus asked, his voice an accusation.
"I can't say I wasn't tempted. He was really gorgeous. But
I turned him down."
"Why?" Remus asked. He knew perfectly well that Sirius swung
both ways, so hearing that his friend had been tempted wasn't all
that surprising. What was really surprising was that Sirius had
turned him down. The black-haired Marauder had managed to build for
himself quite a reputation at Hogwarts for being the biggest slut in
the school. Now, while Remus knew for a fact that the majority of
the rumors were blatant lies, he did think that Sirius had likely
bedded one or two of the best looking. So, the fact that he turned
down someone as good looking as the guy he had seen him with was a
bit shocking.
"Because…Well… I have your present," Sirius offered, holding
out the package.
"And this is an answer?"
"If you can interpret it," Sirius nodded, surprised at how
embarrassed and shy he felt.
Remus took the package and carefully peeled away the wrapping
paper to reveal a black photo album with gold trim. He flipped open
the cover and saw inscribed in Sirius' extravagant writing, `This
Could All Be Yours….'
Eyebrows raised nearly into his hairline, Remus turned the
page and gasped, feeling his face heating up, though he had no real
reason to be embarrassed. "Sirius!"
"Do you like them? I went to Apollo to have these photos
taken especially for you. It was Jamie's idea," he added, as if that
somehow made it less of a completely ridiculous gift.
"I don't really know what to say," Remus confessed, but much
to Sirius' joy, he continued to flip through the pictures. He paused
at one and held it up closer to his face, squinting in the
firelight. "I didn't know you were that flexible."
"Want me to give a demonstration?"
Remus glanced at him, and closed the album. "Thank you,
Sirius. It was unexpected…but not unpleasant."
"Which means?"
Carefully, Remus set the precious gift on the floor and slid
from his chair into Sirius' lap. Wrapping his arms around his
friends' neck, he grinned wolfishly. "Which means that I would
really rather like that demonstration, if you don't mind."

Green Eyes

Tue, 08 Jul 2003 22:09:52 GMT

Title: Green Eyes
Author: Damian Kaziah
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not even my story idea.
Summary: Sirius leaves home, James helps him unpack and finds evidence of Sirius having a relationship with Remus. Is James jealous?
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: PoA, OotP
Dedication: To my Moony and Prongs, who never stuck me in this situation. Hell, my Prongs has a Malfoy fetish like non other. We just accept.
Notes: My attempt at the DSM OotP challenge. Woot!

Green Eyes

It was raining. Had Sirius Black been the superstitious type he would have seen it as a bad sign. However, he was not superstitious, only wet, hungry, weary and slightly scared.
While he had wanted to leave home for a good many years, he had not actually expected to do so before he had graduated from Hogwarts and gotten himself a job. As it was, he had no money save what he had been putting aside, no food, and no place to stay.
After storming out the front door of his family home after a particularly vicious argument he had wandered the streets for several hours, venting to no one in particular and not all that worried about his future. The dark clouds gathering in the sky had provided him with a much needed dose of reality. As the first drops had fallen on his unkempt hair, he had realized he couldn’t stay out there forever.
This led to several minutes of blind panic. Then, like a bolt of lightening, he had become inspired. Years ago his best friend had told him that he would be there for him no matter what happened. Anything he needed, James would provide. And now he needed James more than he had ever needed another person in his life.
Holding out his wand, he summoned the Knight Bus and held tightly to his seat as it lurched across the countryside, eventually depositing him at the end of the long drive up to the Potter estate.
Sirius had visited there many times before, but he had never come for an extended period of time and wasn’t sure of the greeting he would receive once his friends parents realized he wanted to stay there for the rest of the summer.
Briefly he thought of going to Remus’ home instead, but he knew perfectly well that he wouldn’t be allowed to stay there, considering Moony’s parents weren’t aware that Sirius already knew about their son. They were fairly poor as well, from what Sirius could gather. Not that Remus ever talked about his home in great detail.
Finally, unable to stall any longer, Sirius reached up and knocked hesitantly at the door. Within seconds the door was opened by an eager house elf who surveyed him with dismay. “Master Sirius is wet,” she remarked, quickly ushering him into the house.
“Hey, Possy,” Sirius greeted her as she fussed with his wet clothing and his one bag of belongings. “Look, I’m fine. Could you just go tell James I’m here and need to talk to him?”
“Certainly! Right away!” the little thing squeaked and dashed off, leaving Sirius standing in the entrance hall feeling slightly awkward and out of place.
“Sirius!”
Jerked out of his recollections of the fateful argument, Sirius looked up from his shoes to watch his best mate approach, radiating confusion, worry and joy at seeing his friend.
“Prongs,” he said weakly, the true shock of his day catching up with him.
“What are you doing here? Not that I mind, of course, but I wasn’t expecting to see you for another month or so.”
“I left my house,” Sirius explained.
James blinked once or twice in surprise, but before he could reply his mother appeared out of a nearby room, apparently drawn by their voices.
“Sirius! You poor thing! You’re soaking!” Before he could utter another word he had been bustled off to the kitchen, wrapped in a towel and presented with a mug of tea.
After he had warmed up a bit, and realized he wasn’t going to be kicked out, he opened up and told the Potter’s about his argument with his mother. Apparently she had had some bad news and decided to take her anger out on him. Tired of dealing with it, he had shouted back, told her exactly what he thought of her and the entire family, stormed to his room and grabbed a few belongings, and then left out the front door while she screeched at him never to come back.
Grace Potter had always been fond of Sirius, and was more than happy to take him in, offering him a place to stay for the rest of the summer, and until he was ready to live on his own. Sirius was grateful beyond words and made quite sure she knew that he loved her and wished he had been born into her family, as she was more of a mother to him than his own had ever been.
Once he was sufficiently dried off, he went with James up to one of the guest rooms that would serve as his room for as long as he needed to stay. James was ecstatic that his best friend would be living with him for the rest of the summer, and probably the summer following it as well.
“This’ll be great!” he enthused, helping Sirius to unpack his school robes, hanging them in the wardrobe.
“Yeah!” Sirius replied, completely happy now that he had finally realized that he never had to go home to that house again. He was busy stacking his books on the desk, enjoying the idea that this was his home now.
“We need to celebrate this, mate,” James suggested, leaning his friends broom against the desk. “Maybe some ice cream?”
“Or fire whiskey!”
“Siri, you haven’t even lived here a day and you’re already making yourself at home enough to talk about raiding my fathers liquor cabinet.”
“I’m practically another son, Prongs! They expect it of me.”
“Whatever you say, Padfoot.”
“I’ll go get something to celebrate with. Be right back!” And with that Sirius dashed off, his growing black hair sweeping around his face as he turned.
James shook his head and continued to unpack. Thanks to their long friendship, James felt he could put Siri’s things away without his direction. As he pulled out a pile of clothing a few scraps of paper slid out and drifted slowly to the floor. Gently setting the clothing on the bed, James bent to retrieve the pages and recognized the handwriting of Remus Lupin.
Wondering why Remus had written to Sirius, and Sirius had bothered to keep the notes, James settled on the floor and looked the papers over. What he found surprised him a great deal.
Sirius, I miss you more than I ever thought possible. Every day that passes that I don’t see you is like an eternity. Surely this will prove the longest summer of my life. Yet another read I cannot wait until we return to school and I again am blessed with the ability to see you every day, and to sleep by your side every night. Perhaps this year we can even announce our relationship to the others and thus spend the morning hours together as well.
All of the letters were along those same lines, clearly love letters. Slowly he stood up and folded the papers, placing them in a drawer of the desk. He was hanging up the clothing in the wardrobe when Sirius reappeared with two bottles of cold butterbeer.
“Time for an impromptu party, don’t you think?” he suggested cheerily.
“Actually, Padfoot, I’m rather tired. I think I’ll just go to bed and see you in the morning,” James replied, uncomfortable around his friend for some reason.
The jubilant face fell and Sirius couldn’t conceal his disappointment. However, as he was a generally cheery individual he shrugged and said, “Another time then? We’ve got all summer!”
“Yeah. All summer.” His voice sounded dead even to himself as he walked out of the room and back to his own bedroom where he stayed awake staring at the ceiling for hours, wondering what that weight in his stomach was.

The next morning James was somewhat recovered. He rose late in the morning and staggered downstairs to find himself some food. The sun was shining outside, and there was only a slight breeze. A perfect day for flying his broom if he ever saw one, and temporarily he forgot about the previous evening.
Upon entering the kitchen and seeing Sirius in deep conversation with his mother over some new laws being put into effect the sinking feeling returned, however, and he wondered how he would ever get his broom off the ground with a lead weight. Sirius noticed him and grinned broadly. “Morning, James!”
“Hey, Siri,” he mumbled, sitting down and grabbing a piece of toast. Somehow he just didn’t feel all that hungry anymore.
“What were you planning to get up to today?” Sirius asked conversationally between bites of his scrambled eggs.
“Maybe some flying. I don’t know.”
“That sounds like fun, but I want to finish unpacking my stuff first. Want to help? Or should I just meet you outside?”
His first instinct was to tell Sirius to do it himself. This was immediately followed by a worrisome thought. Why was he acting like this? Sirius hadn’t done anything wrong, after all. Those letters were making him act peculiar, and he knew perfectly well that had it been anyone else he was feeling this way about, James would have said he was jealous. But this was Sirius. Why would he be jealous of Sirius?
He still didn’t want to go back up to that room and see more love letters from Remus. Instead, he offered a compromise. “Why don’t we go flying now before the sun gets up too far and it gets hot, and then come in and finish with your room?”
Sirius shrugged and grinned. “Sounds perfect to me.” He added a wink that clearly meant that he was hoping to sneak that fire whiskey that evening to celebrate. James pretended not to notice.

They spent the day flying over the trees like complete lunatics, and after the initial awkwardness that appeared to completely baffle Sirius; things fell back into their old patterns again. The two of them laughed, hurled insults and contemplated new pranks for when school was back in session.
Evening seemed to come upon them suddenly, and with much reluctance they shouldered their brooms and headed back into the house, playfully shoving each other.
For a time, James forgot that he was supposed to be annoyed with Sirius.
He remembered when he was reaching into one of Sirius’ bags and came out with a pair of handcuffs and some silken rope. Sirius heard the sharp intake of breath behind him, and turned around to see James staring blankly at what he held in his hands.
“He knows,” Sirius realized, finally understanding some of the distant behavior his friend had been exhibiting. “Maybe I should just finish unpacking myself,” he suggested.
James nodded slowly and placed the items back where he had found them. Then he sat down on the desk chair and stared at Sirius.
Feeling uncomfortable, Sirius scratched the back of his neck, aware his face was burning. “Maybe I should just knick that fire whiskey now?”
“I think that would be a good idea,” James agreed, his voice devoid of any emotion.
“Right. I’ll be back in a moment then.” Hurriedly Sirius slipped from the room, his hands shaking as he made his way to the cabinet where all of the liquor was stored. Fortunately he had raided the cabinet enough times in the past to be able to work it even in his state of anxious shock.
When he returned to the room, James had apparently not moved an inch. Sirius set the bottle on the desk and sat down on the foot of the bed. “So, I guess you figured it out.”
“How long?” James demanded.
Sirius chuckled slightly. “Since Valentine’s Day, actually. I’ve always hated the bloody holiday, but now it’s my anniversary. I am not unaware of the irony of the situation.”
“It’s wrong,” James suddenly said, causing Sirius to blink up at him in confusion.
“What?”
“It’s wrong. You shouldn’t be with Remus. It’s all wrong.”
Though he knew he should have told James before, Sirius had never found a good opportunity. While he felt guilty about it, he had expected his best friend to understand the situation, and why it was so difficult to tell him. To be told he was wrong, well, it was rather a rude shock.
“Look Prongs, I’m sorry. I should have told you before…”
James held up a hand to silence him. “That’s not it. You shouldn’t be doing this at all.”
Anger began to churn deep inside of Sirius, but he valiantly attempted to ignore it. “Why is it wrong?”
“It just is. You shouldn’t be with Remus. He’s-,” James waved his hand in the air, searching for the right word. “A creature of darkness,” he finally finished.
That was the last straw for Sirius, who stood up, towering over his sitting friend. “What are you talking about? What’s wrong with you, Potter?”
“I could be asking the same thing of you, Black,” James shot back, standing up himself to glare at his best friend. “Why the hell would you want to get yourself involved with a werewolf?”
“I love him!” Sirius argued. “It doesn’t matter that he turns into a wolf once a month! He’s human the rest of the time, and you bloody well know it! If two people are happy and love each other, there is nothing wrong with it! What the hell has gotten into you?”
“I know what’s gotten into you,” James hissed. “And I know you like it. I bet you scream his name into the pillow every night when you let that creature fuck you.”
He knew he had gone too far even before he had finished the sentence, but then it was too late and he couldn’t take it back. Something shut down behind Sirius’ eyes and he stepped back, suddenly cool and distant. One long finger he pointed at the door. “Leave. Leave the room now, Potter. I’m packing my things and leaving tonight. I’ll sleep on the street. I’d rather do that than stay here with you.”
Terror filled James at the idea of losing the one person he cared for the most and his anger evaporated. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I pushed it too far. I’m sorry.”
“Go,” Sirius repeated, not lowering his arm.
At seeing his apology ignored, James grew angry again himself. “If Remus loves you so much, and he’s that wonderful, why don’t you just go and stay with him?” he snarled.
“What the fuck is wrong with you tonight? You’re acting like a jealous idiot,” Sirius growled.
“Why the hell would I be jealous of you? Either of you? You two deserve each other!”
“Fuck you!”
“Don’t be disgusting.”
Here Sirius paused and seemed to step back and evaluate the situation. “I bet you are. I bet you’re jealous. What? Upset that Remus and I have found someone, and you’re still all alone because Lily Evans won’t look twice at you?”
“I,” but James couldn’t think of a reply. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he reached out and grabbed his friend’s face, pressing his lips against those of the other boy with all the passion and intensity of youth.
When he finally pulled back, they stared at each other from inches away, shock and wonder in their eyes.
“What the hell?” Sirius finally breathed, breaking the spell.
The kiss had answered several questions, but raised several more. What were they supposed to do now.
“I’m sorry,” James said lamely. “Please don’t leave. Forget all of this. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Head hanging, he left the room and Sirius could only stare at the closed door in utter bewilderment.

Not a word was spoken of that night for the rest of the summer, and it seemed completely forgotten by the start of the school year. While things had been strained for a while, their close friendship managed to survive intact, and once they were back with their friends it was easier to pretend that nothing unusual had happened.
Remus and Sirius came out and admitted to their relationship that first month. James smiled and pretended to be happy. Peter was admittedly shocked and slightly disturbed, but willing to ignore it for their sakes.
One day as James sat at the lake with the other three Marauders, watching Remus and Sirius subtly touch each other at every opportunity, he happened to glance into the water and saw there a reflection of two deep green eyes.
“How appropriate. Green. The colour of jealousy,” he mused, before turning around and smiling up at Lily Evans in what he hoped was a charming way. “Say Evans, want to come with me to Hogsmead next weekend?”
It was perfect. He belonged with someone who had green eyes.

Searing

Thu, 03 Jul 2003 03:21:17 GMT

Title: Searing
Author: Damian Kaziah
Archive: Azkaban's Lair and anywhere that wants it, just drop me a line
Summary: Remus muses on how his life is usually beyond his ability to control.
Spoilers: PoA
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine, but the basic feeling of futility is....
Notes: This is based on my real life experiance...so.. yeah. Don't worry, it's going well at the moment...
Warnings: Er.. a little negative on the religious, Catholic side...
Dedications: To my heart and soul, Moony.

Searing

My life thus far has been an exercise in futility.

I’ve been put through many things that were beyond my control. Obviously, the first one would be my lycanthropy. The most a small child could do to fight against a hungry wolf is brandish a stick, and we all know that didn’t work.

So, ever since I was young, there has been one aspect of my life that I could do absolutely nothing about. While children are not used to running their own lives anyway, leaving it to their parents, as I grew older and more independent this condition wore away at me, bothering me like a splinter caught just beneath the skin. One you can feel, but not remove.

It was probably this that led me to the late night excursions with my friends on full moon nights while we were in school. Against my better judgement we snuck out every month and explored the surrounding area. Prongs and Padfoot were able to keep Moony under control, and that gave me some vicarious sense of victory over that aspect of myself.

I had very little control over my schooling, and now I must also work to pay my way through Muggle university, as there is really nothing more I can do in the world of wizarding education.

Again, control was stolen from me by my parents, who insisted that I go, even after I found my schedule draining me of my heart and spirit.

How can a learning experience sap my vitality? Simply because it prevents me from indulging in my passion: writing.

Classes take a good portion of the day, as does homework. Then I work, which also cuts down on my free time. Certainly there are times when I could work on my writing, but I am too tired and drained to do anything as intensive as weaving words together in any coherent way. Not to mention my nagging conscience that persists in telling me all of the other things I should be doing with my stolen time.

Hence the need for mindless activities, such as watching the telly, or running around with the other Marauders. That or I read, which totally engulfs me and allows no chance for feeling guilty.

So, for months now I have been having immense difficulty getting out of bed, as I just can’t seem to convince myself that there is anything worth getting out of bed for.

That is, until two months ago. What happened two months ago? My life, that’s what.

Two months ago, Sirius Black and I finally came to terms with our feelings for each other, and got involved in a relationship.

And for two months, I was truly happy, at least periodically. I still had to contend with stress and all.

Sirius makes my life make sense, and for a while I felt like there was something, something important, that I could help control.

While this is only partially true, as I sincerely believe I had no control over my heart falling for Sirius in the first place, I could and did choose my words and methods carefully, to ensure that he fell in love with me in turn, for while I loved him at the start, he was unsure of his feelings until recently.

It didn’t take long for him to voice the feelings I could tell he had played host to from the beginning, and we were very happy for a time. So happy, in fact, that we should have and did know it couldn’t last.

His parents found out about us.

Looking at Sirius, one wouldn’t know he had come from a religious and conservative family. He's too open-minded and too likely to indulge in wild behavior. But there you have it.

Needless to say, they weren’t happy about it. Actually, that is probably an understatement.

Now I’m not allowed to visit Siri at their home, and I’m sure I wouldn’t be able to visit him at his flat if they could possibly prevent it. All of our plans for this summer have been neatly disposed of, which upsets me. I had really been looking forward to those camping trips.

And now Siri is having doubts about us. That is one character flaw he has- he questions everything. Though I think most of the problems he’s having are based on his parent’s disapproval, and not some deep-seated worry that what we are doing is wrong. He loves his parents very much.

I can’t blame him for wanting to step back and think things through. After all, they are helping to support him as he’s only just starting out as an Auror.

While I was upset from the start, I seem to be feeling particularly wretched today, as while talking to Jamie I realized there is nothing I can do.

My fate, his fate, our fate, the entire future we have been planning together, it all hangs on whatever he decides to do.

I’ve never felt so helpless. So much of my own happiness depends on something I can’t control. I’m terrified.

I’m so scared that I want to fall on my knees and pray before lighted candles to any deity that will listen to me. Unfortunately, it is exactly this sort of reverence that is trying to steal my heart from me.

Again I am thrust into a situation that can make or break my entire being…and I am helpless….

Please, Siri... don’t destroy me…

Love Is

Thu, 03 Jul 2003 03:17:07 GMT

Title: Love Is
Author: Damian Kaziah
Summary: Sirius attempts to describe what love means to him.
Disclaimer: Not my characters.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: PoA
Warnings: None
Dedication: To Prongs, who shares the 'joy' of college with me.
Notes: Obviously wrote this shortly after starting college. What can I say, I was inspired.

Love Is

The soft glow of the autumn sun bathed the courtyard in light, painting the brilliantly colored leaves a warm gold. The leaves that had already fallen to the ground crunched under the feet of the students, trudging to their next class, and not enjoying the beautiful weather or the distinct, sharp yet subtle scent that accompanies autumn.
“Hogsmeade University,” Sirius Black thought, gazing about. “The most prestigious wizarding university in the world, and the ultimate dream of any witch or wizard hoping to become a teacher. Way to go Moony.”
Sirius hadn’t needed to go to university himself, nor had his friend James. Remus Lupin, however, had come to the conclusion that he wanted to teach, rather than work for the Ministry of Magic like his friends. He didn’t know what subject he wanted to teach yet, but he rationalized that he could decide later.
No one mentioned the fact that it was unlikely that any school would ever hire a werewolf.
Fortunately, since college was much less structured, and the students could live at home, Remus had been allowed to enroll. Sirius and James suspected a bit of support from Dumbledore as well.
Sirius sighed and glanced at on of the several watches on his forearm. The one labeled ‘Moony’ on the band told him that Remus was still in class. That meant Sirius would have to wait a bit.
Irritated with his own impatience, he looked about the courtyard for somewhere to sit. He didn’t have to have a mental debate of bench vs. table, as a voice called out to him.
“Hey! You go here?”
“Female,” Sirius thought with a grin, before turning and surveying the speaker. She sat on the grass with several other girls and two boys. She was blonde, apparently tall, and pretty.
“No, my lady,” Sirius replied, turning on the charm that no girl yet had been able to resist. “And now I actually regret it.” He shot her a meaningful look.
The girl laughed and patted the ground beside her. “That’s okay. I won’t hold it against you. Come, join us.”
“If you insist,” Sirius winked, sauntering over and settling on the dry grass next to her.
“I’m Sarah,” she told him. “And these lovely individuals are Beth, Audrey, Jason, Sam and Jessica.”
“I’m Sirius Black. Nice to meet you.” He gave the ladies winning smiles and nodded at the men. A few of the girls giggled and the guys shot him knowing looks.
“So, since you don’t go here, you’re either a slacker or an Auror,” Sarah remarked. “Which one is it?”
“Who said there was any difference between the two?” This brought on appreciative laughter from the ladies, and Sirius found himself warming to the crowd.
“Then if you don’t go here, what are you doing here?” Beth asked.
“Likely trying to pick up college girls,” Jason quipped and Sirius shrugged.
“Actually, I’m here to meet a friend.”
“Who is it?” Audrey inquired.
“Remus Lupin. You know him?” They all shook their heads. “Well, you’re missing out. He’s great. So, what were you all discussing before I arrived?”
“Oh,” Sarah blushed slightly. “Um…”
“The girls were trying to get us to define our idea of what love is,” Jason explained, obviously exasperated by the feminine behavior.
“Oh, really?” Sirius raised an eyebrow at Sarah.
“Well…I wanted to know how guys describe it,” Sarah explained.
“As long as it’s scholarly research,” Sirius laughed.
Sarah, realizing that not only was he not going to tease her, but that he may well answer her question, relaxed. “Of course it’s scholarly. I’m researching the difference between women’s thoughts, and men’s.”
“And boy is there ever a difference!” Audrey muttered.
“Shh!” Sarah hissed at her before turning back to Sirius. “I said that love was like the sun shining on fields of wildflowers. Beth said it was like bird song, first thing in the morning. Audrey thinks it’s like the peace on a mountaintop, and Jessica believes it’s akin to the running of a brook.”
“Ah, so we’re using similes to describe love, are we?” Sirius observed, already thinking.
“Yes,” Sarah confirmed simply.
“Okay…give me a minute to think.” Normally Sirius knew his thoughts about things immediately, but he hadn’t ever really thought about love.
“Love…love…Hmm…,” he mused. “Like a moonless night? No. Like a stone with flakes of gold in it, that shine when the sun hits? No….”
After only a short time, Sirius gave up on trying to figure it out, and decided to just speak and expect it all to come out properly.
“Love is…” He cut off abruptly when he saw a familiar head of brown hair, strands of which partially obscured an even more familiar face. “Remus!” he shouted, standing up and dashing after his friend without looking back.
Once he was out of hearing range, Jason smirked. “Love is Remus?”
“Be quiet you!” Sarah snapped. “He was just cut off. That’s not what he meant.”
Sam spoke for the first time. “I’m not so sure about that. I think he may have spoken the truth, without even realizing he had done it.”
Meanwhile, Remus had stopped in his tracks at the sound of his name being called. He turned to see his friend rushing towards him and he smiled warmly.
Even as he jogged, Sirius had a sudden realization. “Love is like…that. That smile. No, love is that smile. I love that smile.”
“Good afternoon, Padfoot,” Remus said as Sirius stopped in front of him.
“Afternoon, Moony,” Sirius replied.
“So, what are our plans for today?”
“Um….” Sirius reached up and scratched the back of his neck. “Actually, I hadn’t planned that far ahead.”
Remus chuckled, then reached out and caught Sirius’ wrist, causing Sirius’ eyes to widen. But Remus was only looking at the watch labeled ‘Prongs’.
“James is on his way home now,” he remarked. “We could Apparate over there to see him.”
“No!” Sirius cried, more vehemently than he had intended. “I mean, no. I wanted it to be just the two of us today. I never get to see you anymore, Moony.”
Remus squeezed his wrist gently before releasing it, and Sirius couldn’t help but notice the sudden cold he felt in his wrist.
“Okay, then. Why don’t we get something to eat? I know I’m starving.”
“Sure,” Sirius agreed numbly. The sudden insight into his psyche had scared him a bit and he wasn’t sure how to act around Remus now.
Before they could decide anything more, however, a familiar voice shouted across the courtyard. “What is it, Black? The Ministry have no use for an idiot and send you back to school?”
Sirius whipped around. “Hey, Snape! I hear there are a lot of Muggles who’ll pay a hell of a lot of money for all that oil on your head!”
Beside him, Remus chuckled and Sirius shot him a big grin, both ignoring Snape’s cursing.
“So, food?” Sirius prompted.
“Where?”
“I don’t care. You pick.”
“But I don’t care either, so let’s just go down to Hogsmeade and eat what we can find.”
“Sounds good.”
They set off, walking out of the courtyard and down into town. Sirius smiled at Remus. “You know I think you can do anything you want to do in this life, don’t you?”
Remus smiled back, his face showing pleasure and some deeper emotion. “I know.”
Lazily, Sirius threw an arm around Remus’ shoulders, and it only seemed natural when Remus put his arm around Sirius’ waist.

Unfinished

Wed, 02 Jul 2003 04:08:13 GMT

Title: Untitled
Author: Damian Kaziah
Notes: I'll probably go back and finish this at some point as I rather like it. Then I'll send it off to contests or something.

“Why aren’t there two of them?”
The lazy question drew the graceful, silvery swan to an abrupt halt, it’s transparent head turning on the delicate neck to gaze at the owner of the voice, even as the head of the Elf beneath it did.
“What do you mean by that?” Leynarue snapped, dark blue eyes flashing.
The fae being that was Astrea shrugged, his delicate wings rising and falling with the motion. “Well, it just seems to me that all things come in pairs. Feet, arms, wings, pointed ears. Why do you not create two swans?”
Beside him, Astrea could hear Corin sigh heavily, and Morgan mutter, “Oh no.” Shelendria pointedly ignored the entire conversation, and pretended to be sharpening her knive.
Orea, his lover, placed a hand on his arm, hoping to silence him. However, this gesture came too late; the damage was done.
“Pairs? Why must everything come in pairs? Can it not be accepted that someone can be perfectly happy on their own?”
“Now you’ve done it,” Orea murmured.
“I don’t understand why you have to think thus!” Leynarue was on a full blown rant, his arms waving and gesturing in the air, the helpless swan created by his power thrashing uselessly over his head. “I hate all of you happy couples!”
With that, he turned on his heel and stomped off, angry breezes buffeting the remaining five, and tearing the swan to shreds.
Once he was gone, Astrea turned to the others. “Has he seemed a bit moody to you lately?”
Orea hit him in the back of the head with her palm, and Corin buried his face in Morgan’s tunic. Shelendria merely glanced at him, then stood up and walked away herself.

Untitled

Wed, 02 Jul 2003 04:02:10 GMT

Title: Untitled
Author: Damian Kaziah
Notes: This was an attempt at a novel that I never fleshed out. I'll probably never even go back and finish it, unless I change things around and make a short story out of it. However, it's a decent piece of work so I've decided to include it here rather than pretend it never existed. Just figured I should put something in here other than Harry Potter!

Long fingers deftly sliced the leaves, the green of the leaves contrasting darkly with the light green of the tendril wrapped around the forefinger of the right hand. The owner of the hands was breathing quickly, but not from exertion. His breath was heavy and labored like that of one that was deeply worried about something.
“We don’t die that easily. Calm down or we’ll have to heal you too, Leynarue,” a dry voice commented.
Leynarue froze and glanced at his companion, his eyes wild. “I know that,” he conceded. “But what if she does die?”
“Her injuries are not that severe!”
“She’s bedridden!”
“Because her injury was in her leg and she is clever and sensible enough to know better than to walk on it!” Azaka replied, exasperated at her cousin’s nervous behavior. Wasn’t royalty supposed to have some modicum of control? Especially royalty that regularly led their armed forces on raids.
Leynarue impatiently brushed his long blond hair back, away from his face. His blue eyes were stormy with worry and no little measure of embarrassment. He knew he was being paranoid, but this was Shayla, his beloved.
Azaka smiled at him, sensing his mind as it calmed. “Sit down, Leynarue. The brew will be finished soon, and then you can take some to her. She’ll be on her feet in time for the celebration tonight.”
“Fine,” he sighed, flinging himself into a corner, leaning on the wall and tracing his leafy tattoo. The start of the tattoo was right over his right eyebrow, wending its way down the side of his face and neck and to the end of his arm. His pointed ears were pierced along their length, the silver studs small so that they wouldn’t interfere with him while he was fighting.
The battle that day had gone well. They had won and suffered no casualties. The bounty was high, and the celebration that night promised to be remembered for a long time by their people. Leynarue himself had fought marvelously and won even more respect for himself.
Shayla had also done remarkably, only receiving the injury on her leg when she intercepted an arrow meant for another. However, Leynarue, upon finding out his love had been injured, had flown into a near panic and carried her in his arms back to camp. The rest of the troops seemed to find this amusing.
Azaka finally pulled away from the cauldron and sighed with contentment. “Finished,” she announced, and was nearly knocked into the fire as Leynarue leapt for the potion and scooped some up in a bowl.
“Thanks!” he called over his shoulder as he sprinted to Shayla’s tent.
Azaka could only laugh at her younger cousin’s antics. “He may be our war leader,” she commented to another Elf who had come to get some potion for several of his friends, “But he is still young.”

Shayla smiled when Leynarue entered her tent and walked gingerly over to her bed, kneeling down on the ground beside her and offering her the bowl.
“Did you drive Azaka mad?” she asked wryly, knowing her lover’s ways.
Leynarue shrugged and averted his eyes, blushing faintly.
“Well, thank you, luv. My leg was starting to pain me.” Quickly she drank down the brew and set the bowl on the floor beside the bed. “Now, how shall I thank you?” she teased, then all humor was lost as she saw the expression on Leynarue’s face. “What’s wrong?”
Leynarue reached out and cupped her cheek in his calloused hand. “I could have lost you.”
Exasperation filled her. “Luv, you could lose me at any time. We are mercenaries. Our lives are put at risk every time we accept a deal. This is nothing new.”
“I know. But this is the first time you were hurt,” he confessed, leaning up onto the bed to kiss her.
She smiled at him. “And hopefully it will be the last! Now, get up here!” Strong arms that belied her small size pulled her lover up onto the bed with her, and held him securely until he dozed off. He was always tired after a battle.

Later that day, Leynarue walked around the camp, watching the preparations for the festivities. As he passed his fathers tent, a voice hailed him. “May I have a word with you, my son?”
“Certainly father,” he replied, stepping into the sullen gloom of the tent and inwardly longing for the airy lodges of their settlement.
His father smiled at him. Though he was over twice the age of his son he looked like he could be his brother. “I merely wanted to tell you that I am proud of you, my son. You carried yourself wonderfully in the battle, or so I have been told.”
“Thank you, Father.”
“However, may I offer a warning?”
“Indeed, Father.”
“Do not let your emotions control you. If someone you care for is injured, you must keep fighting. Every member of our band is a trained fighter. They can take care of themselves, and have selected this life. They know the risks. If you panic, then you are in danger and as a leader of troops, you will put them in danger.”
“I understand. It won’t happen again.” Leynarue bowed low to his father, blushing slightly, the blush more reassuring to his father than any words could have been.
“Also, tonight I intend to announce that we are heading back to our winter camp before the moon is next full.”
Leynarue brightened up considerably and his father smiled. His son had always loved the winter camp, buried deeply in the heart of the mountains and surrounded by trees.
“Are you intending to bond with Shayla at the Bloom Festival this year?”
The young prince looked down and dug around in the soft dirt with his bare toes. “The thought had crossed my mind,” he admitted. “I’m not sure she is ready for the commitment however. I’m not even sure of her feelings towards me.”
“My son, it is quite obvious that she loves you.”
“I know she loves me. However, I also know that there are other competitors for her heart.”
“As there are others for yours. Does she know that she is top in your heart?”
Nervously the young Elf scratched the back of his neck and stared at a point on the wall behind his father. “Officially, no,” he finally replied vaguely.
His father laughed, and Leynarue shrugged, grinning sheepishly.

Phantom

Wed, 02 Jul 2003 02:56:40 GMT

Title: Phantom
Author: Damian Kaziah
Disclaimer: Not my characters, nor does the Phantom of the Opera belong to me. Bowie...is also not mine.
Spoilers: PoA
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A writing assignment goes a bit peculiar.
Dedication: To my Grandparents, for remembering me when they had an extra ticket!
Notes: I saw Phantom of the Opera the other day and it was wonderful. Just wonderful! So, of course I had to do something! This came about during a discussion with Moony. I do hope I get approval on it. It's my attempt at a slightly glitter fic, as well, though that wasn't the main purpose. I even wrote it all in one day, which is unusual for me.

Phantom

Professor Bloomburg was a favorite with the students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She was the kind of teacher that the students could confide in, joke with, and come to for help. Her reputation as a great teacher was also widely known, and a good many students took her Muggle Studies classes merely so they could be taught by her. Professor Bloomburg was also wise enough to know that all of these actions were a sign of student approval, and was very flattered and worked hard to make her classes enjoyable to repay the students for their affection.
So it was that in the sixth year of the Marauders reign that the Muggle Studies class was learning about Muggle culture and art. For the first part of the year they had read a good many books that were well known to most Muggles. This was followed by movies, and eventually plays and operas.
On this particular fine Thursday afternoon, the class had just finished watching a movie version of the Phantom of the Opera.
Most of the class looked enraptured, gazing at the blank screen in disappointment. Others were telling their friends what they would have done differently had they been Christine. One or two were sleeping, and others sat in polite silence, waiting for the homework assignment their teacher had mentioned at the start of class.
“Now students, I know I’ve made you do a lot of reading this year, and some of it hasn’t been all that much fun. I’m going to try to make that up to you now, and let your imaginations have a little break. One week from today, I want you all to hand in to me your own version of this story. I ask for at least one scroll from each of you. And before you start to complain, allow me to elaborate.
“You can be as creative with this as you want. The story can remain virtually the same as the original, only with names changed, or it can be completely different, so long as I can tell where the basic plot came from. You can make up your own characters, use the ones from the original, or insert yourself and your friends. If you would prefer, you can just write an in depth personal monologue from one of the original characters, or someone who is living through something similar. Have fun with this project and don’t let yourself get too stressed about it. I’ll see you all next week. Enjoy your weekends.”
And with that, class was over and the chattering students poured out of the classroom and into the hall.
“Do you have any ideas?” Sirius Black inquired of his friends.
“One or two,” James Potter replied casually, his eyes darting over the crowd in the halls, searching for a head of red hair while pretending not to be doing so.
“I’m sure you do, Prongs,” Sirius replied, rolling his eyes. “How about you Moony? Wormtail?”
“I’m so confused. How am I supposed to write something like that?” Peter Pettigrew worried. “I can barely take notes that make any sense!”
“I can proofread your work if you want, Pete,” Remus Lupin offered. Then he turned his attention to Sirius. “And no, I don’t have any ideas at this point. Are you asking all of us to try to steal our ideas or because you already have some and want to elaborate?”
“Hey! I am perfectly capable of coming up with my own ideas.” A sulky look crossed the handsome face. “But a little help would have been nice.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Be quiet, Moony.”
Remus just smiled at his friend, and continued on to the Great Hall for lunch, his friends trailing behind.

That night in the Gryffindor common room, the four sat around staring at their blank scrolls. Peter was chewing the end of his quill and looking apprehensive. James was gazing in the direction of the fireplace and not really trying to get his homework done. Sirius was staring at the ceiling and tapping his fingers irritably on the table. Remus, however, had already begun to write.
“How can you have an idea already?” Peter asked, eyes wide.
“Just call me a genius,” Remus grinned, barely glancing up. Apparently his idea had him in its clutches and he couldn’t stop writing for even an instant.
They were all rudely surprised by a sudden exclamation from Sirius. “I’ve got it! The Phantom of the Strip Joint!” At the confused looks on the faces of his three friends, he elaborated. “I’m this poor, underpaid stripper, you see? But I’m devastatingly handsome, and so the Phantom, who looks just like David Bowie, falls in love with me and makes me the star act. Of course, the other strippers are all jealous. And he only wears a mask because he’s so gorgeous that he gets gang raped if he doesn’t. It’s brilliant!”
Before he could start writing, a hand hit him upside the head. “Don’t be blasphemous,” Remus muttered coldly, glaring at him. “There are some things you should not parody.”
“Now you know that’s not true, Moony!” Sirius teased. “Life is a parody in and of itself. Nothing is sacred enough not to make fun of!”
Remus continued to glare, so Sirius slunk off to another table to begin work on his masterpiece.
“Why does that bother you so much?” James asked once Sirius had gone and Remus showed no signs of forgiving the insult.
“Because when I was younger my parents took me to see the show live, and it was the most amazing experience of my life. I don’t like to see it belittled by Paddy’s sex drive and lust for Bowie.”
“Like you don’t have an equal lust for Bowie.”
“I don’t think anyone can have a lust for him that equals the one our dear Siri harbors,” Remus replied, looking amused. “It just wouldn’t be possible. He’s obsessed.”
“Tell me about it,” James groaned, burying his face in his hands. “All summer it was ‘Bowie this’ and ‘Bowie that.’ I was about to kill him, honestly.”
“I don’t envy you your house mate,” Peter chimed in, toying with the flame of a nearby candle. They all glanced over at where Sirius was sitting, scribbling furiously.
“You have my sympathy,” Remus assured him.
“Thanks,” was James’ only reply.

On Sunday evening the four of them gathered to share their stories, as they had spent most of the weekend working on them. They had their own reasons for working on it so hard and so quickly, rather than putting it off to the last minute. Sirius had been inspired and had finished his story the night it had been assigned. Remus had enjoyed the assignment and therefore had devoted time to it. James had just wanted to get it out of the way so he wouldn’t have to worry about it during Quidditch practice, and Peter was just going along with the other three. Besides, Remus had told him that if he put writing his off until the last minute, he wouldn’t help him go over it. So, Peter had decided to finish early and get all the help he could.
“Okay guys, we sit in a circle,” James ordered as he settled down cross-legged on the floor of their room. “Then we pass our story to the person to our right. Once we’re all done reading the first story, we pass to the right again until we have our own back. Understand?”
“It’s not that difficult, Jamie,” Sirius sighed, blowing a lock of hair out of his eyes and grinning at Remus who sat on his left. “Besides, you shouldn’t order us around. Remus is the Prefect. Not you.”
“Then, as a Prefect I’ll tell you to do as James says.” Remus couldn’t contain his grin, and he glanced at James and winked.
Sirius growled low in his throat, but stopped arguing. “Can we just go ahead and pass now?”
“Very well. Since our little puppy is getting anxious, everyone pass to your right.” James handed his scroll to Remus and accepted Peter’s. The others all followed suit and soon a very rare thing happened, silence fell over the Marauders as they all read.
“I actually expected something like this,” Remus mused as he read James’ story. It was fairly well written, but a bit predictable. Lily was a famous actress and James had been a childhood friend. There was a hideous creature that lived under the theater and bore a striking resemblance to Snape. The story followed the original closely, save that at the end Lily kicked Snape in the groin and walked out with James rather than show him any pity. This was followed by a serious snogging session. It was rather humorous, and obviously meant to be. It was also a testament to how much James liked Professor Bloomburg to reveal his deepest feelings about his classmate in such a way that the teacher couldn’t possibly miss it.
Shortly after he had finished, the others were all looking up as well, a clear sign that they were finished as well and waiting to switch off again. “Pass to your right,” James told them, and so came the next round.
Peter’s story was not so well written, but it was clear that he had tried. Remus had read several drafts of the story already and helped him with spelling and grammar, as well as a few suggestions to make the story seem more complete.
After a few failed attempts, Peter had opted to write Christine’s thoughts on the Phantom after the last scene of the show. While at some points it seemed a bit out of character, it wasn’t too terribly bad and Remus knew he would at least receive passing marks.
Then it was time to pass again, and Remus found himself staring down at a scroll covered in Sirius’ choppy writing, blatantly titled, ‘The Phantom of the Strip Joint’. He cast a wary glance at Sirius who was deeply engrossed in Peter’s paper, a small crease in his forehead indicating that he was concentrating on it. Inwardly he sighed, groaned and steeled himself to read something he knew would be a disgrace.

The Phantom of the Strip Joint
by Sirius Black
Gryffindor, Sixth Year

The Blue Pearl was a rather disreputable strip joint in the outskirts of London. The neighborhood was made up of other such establishments, a few abandoned factories and of course the mandatory drug labs. It was inhabited by the lost, the addicted, the hopeless, the hungry and the insatiably horny.
“I belong somewhere better than this,” Sirius Black mused as he stared at his glitter coated reflection in the cracked and dirty mirror of his changing room. “With my looks, I should at least be able to find work in a nicer strip joint than this, but alas! My bad luck and my abusive mother who sold me for drug money have landed me here. Someday, someday I’ll find a way out of this place.” But in his heart of hearts, he didn’t actually believe such a thing could happen.
“And next is our star, Luscious Lucius,” he heard the announcer tell the audience who began to cheer drunkenly. Lucius was the closest thing the place had to a prima donna. It was rumored that he was actually very rich, but had a secret desire to strip and have money shoved down his g-string. Because of this, he had to limit his work to places like the Blue Pearl. Places where no one who actually knew him would ever see him.
Behind him, Sirius heard the manager talking to some other men. “And this is one of our younger stars, Sirius Black, or as we call him, The Carnal Canine.”
Sighing sadly at the ridiculous stage name, Sirius turned with his most winning smile. “And who might these men be?”
“They own this place from tonight on, so you’d better dance well for them,” the manager, Filch, growled at him before turning back to his guests. “He’s not too bright, but he’s real pretty and he dances better than most.”
“I see,” said one of the two men, looking down his nose at Sirius.
“The pretty ones are rarely intelligent,” his companion agreed amiably.
Glaring at them, Sirius put his hand on his hip and attempted to look menacing. “You’d better watch what you say. The Phantom of this Strip Joint watches over me, and he’ll make sure you suffer if you don’t treat me with respect!”
The men glanced at Filch who shrugged. “He’s a bit, well, off in the head.”
“He’s making a life as a stripper. He can’t be all that sane,” the first one conceded, making placating gestures with his hands.
“Sirius, you’re on next. Finish applying your glitter and get ready to go out there,” Filch barked before leading the men off.
“And now, The Carnal Canine,” he heard himself announced, and with one last glance at his achingly beautiful face in the mirror, Sirius walked out onto the stage and began gyrating and removing his clothing, occasionally allowing greasy old men to shove money into his undergarments. He hated this life, but what else did he have?
Once his act was over, he retreated to his dressing room and headed straight to his vanity where he always counted out his earnings. Behind him he heard the door snap shut, and he jerked around in surprise.
Leaning against the door was a man dressed in tight black leather pants, a white dress shirt unbuttoned to the nave, and boots that came all the way up to his thighs. His blond hair cascaded down around his shoulders, and his body was absolutely perfect. The only strange thing about him was the mask he wore over the top half of his face. It was black to match his pants, and intense eyes watched his every move.
“You dance very well,” the man informed Sirius, stepping away from the door to slink towards him. “You have rhythm, unlike some of the others who seem to think that grinding against the ground is sensual and sufficient. You have potential.”
“Thank you?” Sirius was slightly disturbed by this strange man, but turned on all the same. “Do you mind telling me who you are?”
“Silly boy, you should know me. You called on me just earlier tonight, or have you already forgotten? I’m the Phantom of the Strip Joint.”
“So I was hearing you talking to me, right? I wasn’t just hearing voices again?”
“Again?” The Phantom seemed momentarily confused, then made a dismissive gesture. “No, you heard me talking to you in your mind.”
“The Phantom of the Strip Joint is in my mind,” Sirius agreed, not as disturbed as he had thought. He wasn’t sure if this worried him or not.
“Yes, my Angel of Glitter. Now, allow me to show you my underground labyrinth.”
“Sure. Okay. I’m done for the night anyway,” Sirius agreed amicably and he followed the Phantom through a secret passageway in his bathroom down, down into the heart of the club where none went because of the high rate of mysterious disappearances that took place down there.
The Phantom lived in a dark room illuminated only by candles, but it was large, and Sirius decided, rather sumptuous. The room was dominated by a huge bed that was draped all in black silk. Crimson velvet curtains hung around it, but were tied back with golden trim. The carpet was soft underfoot, and puffs of glitter rose into the air with each step as so much of it had fallen into the carpet over the years.
Sirius threw himself onto the bed as the Phantom watched. “So, what do we do now?”
“Well, I believe I give you lessons in the types of glitter, you go back above in all of your glittery glory, some rich pervert falls in love with you and you with him, or at least with his pocketbook. I, of course, get horribly jealous and murderous, eventually kidnap you and when your lover follows I put him in a situation where he will surely die if you don’t agree to love me.”
“What do I do?”
“You kiss me and run off with him.”
“I see. Why don’t we skip all of that and get right on to me kissing you, shall we?”
The Phantom arched an eyebrow. “Very forward of you. I like that.”
“You look sexy in those pants. I like that.”
“Very well.” The Phantom began to approach the bed to ravish Sirius, but before he had quite reached him Sirius held up a hand.
“Just one question.”
“Make sure it’s short.”
“It will be.”
“Very well.”
“Why do you wear that mask? Are you horribly disfigured or something?”
“Not exactly, but my face is a curse.”
“How so?”
“I’ll have to show you,” the Phantom sighed, and slowly slid the mask off, revealing that his true identity was David Bowie. “If I don’t wear it, I get horribly molested by everyone I come into contact with. So I hide my beauty away until someone can appreciate me for my package, and not just my strangely sexy face.”
“I certainly appreciate your package!” Sirius assured him, and they spent the rest of the night wallowing in glitter, and each other.

“It was entertaining,” Remus said as he casually handed the scroll back to Sirius. Then, before any other words could be said he stood up and stalked out of the room. The other three watched him go with varying levels of curiosity and surprise.
“What was that about?” Sirius finally exploded.
“He’s annoyed with you, idiot,” James explained.
“Why?”
“Well, firstly you made a mockery of something near and dear to him. And second,” here James glanced at the door as if Remus were standing on the other side listening, “I think he’s jealous of how obsessed you are with David Bowie.”
“Jealous?”
“Think about it Padfoot. You’re not as stupid as you seem. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some other homework I need to get to.”
James stood up and left the room, followed by Peter who trailed behind him like a loyal puppy.
Once they had gone, Sirius tossed his scroll into his trunk and flopped back on his bed with a grin on his face. “No, I’m not that stupid.”

For a few days there was some tension between Remus and Sirius, but it was quickly forgotten as they came up with new pranks together and life went on. They all turned their papers in and the whole thing was forgotten for a time.
Then one day, right after the full moon, Remus returned to the room to take a nap. The others were at Quidditch practice, Sirius and James showing off and Peter cheering them on.
However, when he opened the curtains to his bed, he noticed a scroll lying on his pillow. Curious, he sat down on the bed and picked it up, unrolling it. At the top he read, in Professor Bloomburg’s hand, ‘100 Excellent work, Sirius. Well written and very deep. I think there’s someone else who should perhaps see this.’
Under it was a story, obviously written by Sirius, however, it wasn’t the same Phantom story Remus had been so upset about before.

The Phantom in my Mind
by Sirius Black
Gryffindor, Sixth Year

The moon was dark and full as I walked the empty corridors of the castle. Somehow I felt like I was alone, though I knew that feeling was ridiculous considering the number of people who swarmed the hallways during the daylight hours.
I wasn’t tired, but I knew that I could have easily fallen asleep had I given myself the chance. Why then was I walking alone so late at night? Even I did not know the answer to that.
Not until I saw the shadow in the inky black corner of a room I was passing.
Obviously it was not a small person, huddled there in the darkness. Only the blackness made it difficult to tell the exact size, or features of the bundle. I would almost have thought him a heap of discarded robes had I not heard the soft sound of labored breathing.
It hit me at once that this was the reason I was out of my bed. I was to find this person, hiding so desperately from the brilliant light of the moon. This ephemeral ghost of a being who lurked in the shadows in the late of night. I was here to find him.
Slowly I approached, and the figure grew silent, obviously aware of me. This did not prevent me from crossing the room and kneeling down in front of him, placing a hand on his thin knee.
He looked up at me then with an expression of neither fear nor pride, and yet somehow both combined. His eyes were golden and glowed with light reflected from an unknown source. Tawny hair dusted across his face and my fingers itched to push it back for him.
I knew the youth. I had seen him many times in my daylight hours. In fact, we were quite good friends, and yet I had never seen him like this. So still, so solitary, so alone and isolated from the sunlight world.
No words were exchanged, but they did not need to be spoken. The silence was meaningful enough, and in that perfect silence we reached an understanding.
The night stripped away his mask, his pretenses. I saw him as the creature of darkness he really was, only I was not afraid. How could I ever be afraid of the one I loved?
We went back to our room together, and curled in each others arms that night. When morning came, he donned his mask again, but I knew him and he knew me, and that was all.

Tears had sprung into his eyes. He hadn’t cried in years, even when the wolf tore his flesh apart every month, he no longer cried. Behind him he heard the door click closed, and lock, and then he was across the room and his lips were pressed to Sirius’ and the phantom of love that had hovered over them both for so long removed the mask and it was perfect.

The Brink of Sleep

Tue, 01 Jul 2003 23:10:24 GMT

Title: The Brink of Sleep
Author: Damian Kaziah
Summary: Sirius allows his subconcious to get away from him.
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, but the poem at the start of it is.
Rating: PG?
Spoilers: PoA, GoF
Dedication: Moony, you know you do this sort of thing to me all the time. If it weren't so cute, I'd be annoyed at how you always manage to wake me up.

The Brink of Sleep

I am wisest when my mind
dances on the brink of sleep
For when I am awake
doubts and insecurities
plague me
Making what was once so certain
seem questionable.

Sirius shifted slightly, still groggy with sleep. The warm bulk beside him continued to breathe slowly and evenly, showing no signs of waking up.
“Remus smells good,” Sirius decided, burying his face in the soft, sandalwood and vanilla scented neck of his friend.
While it wasn’t their habit to share a bed, Remus was living in a small apartment with only one bedroom. Apparently Dumbledore had underestimated the stubborn streaks built into the two men, as he had obviously expected there to be room for one of them on the sofa when he sent Sirius to stay with Remus. However, they had both refused to allow the other to sleep on the sofa, no matter how soft it was, and thus had ended up sharing the bed.
With the wisdom and insight borne of just waking up, Sirius began doing something he would never have dared do if either he or Remus was awake and coherent. He began laying soft kisses on his friends’ neck, merely because it seemed like a good thing to be doing.
Remus moved his head to the side, allowing for better access, still apparently deeply asleep. The freshly exposed skin, however, tempted Sirius further, and he found his lips trailing slowly and carefully up Remus’ neck, until he was kissing his jaw, his cheek, and finally his lips.
It was at his lips that he lingered, placing several warm, damp kisses. Some part of his brain told him that Remus had to be awake by now. That same part pointed out that it seemed very much as if Remus was kissing him back.
Finally Sirius allowed his mind to slip deeper into the stupor of sleep. Just as he was about to fall completely asleep, the alarm went off.
Remus’ thin body went taught suddenly and he groaned and pulled the blankets over his head, curling closer to Sirius, one arm groping about on the headboard to turn it off.
Silence fell again, Sirius pointedly trying to fall asleep again and failing, as the part of him that was awake knew that the warm object he was snuggling was going to be leaving shortly.
Suddenly his lips were accosted by another set of lips that were gone as quickly as they had arrived. Remus then gave in to the inevitable and climbed out of bed to get dressed and go to work, allowing Sirius to finally doze off.
Several hours later he woke again, this time more fully. As he stared at the ceiling, still smelling Remus’ shampoo on the pillowcase, a realization dawned on him.
“I kissed Remus,” he observed out loud. Then as the words sunk in, he jolted up in the bed. “I KISSED REMUS!” he gasped, mildly terrified of the consequences of his actions.
Before he could work himself into a full blown panic, another memory crossed his mind. “And he kissed me.”
A wolfish grin made its way onto his face and remained there, as he set about arranging the perfect way to surprise his friend with another kiss when he came home, since they would both be awake to enjoy it.

Lie

Sun, 29 Jun 2003 01:52:14 GMT

Title: Lie
Author: Damian Kaziah
Disclaimer: Not my characters...just a sad little image I came up with.
Warnings: Angst
Spoilers: PoA
Rating: PG? Maybe PG-13?
Dedication: To Moony, the one who puts me in the mood for angst fics on the long car rides home from visiting.
Notes: I am currently working on a fic for the DSM OotP challenge! Go me!

Lie

The cold metal bit into his fingers but he paid it no mind as he grasped the bars and glared into the cell beyond. Huddled in the dark, dank corner was a pitiful figure, barely recognizable as the brash and impulsive Sirius Black.
Remus had arrived at Azkaban fifteen minutes prior, half shaped accusations and questions swirling in his mind, but now that he found himself so close to his old friend, he was at a loss for words.
Glancing behind himself, he saw Dumbledore standing placidly. The old wizard had gotten him into this place, and he didn’t even want to think about what he had had to do to manage it. Azkaban didn’t usually allow visitors. And here he stood, unable to move forward and unwilling to move back.
Finally, with an anxious sigh, he stepped back and allowed the door to be unlocked. Then, with hesitant steps he made his way into the cell, stopping just short of where Sirius crouched.
Again he tried to will himself to speech, but was unable to find the words.
Sirius solved the problem for him. Hearing the approaching footsteps, he had looked up, his eyes a mix of agony and confusion. His mouth worked for a moment, before he managed to choke out, “Remus?”
“Yes, it’s me,” Remus confirmed through a lump in his throat. He had never thought he would see Sirius in such a state, and it broke his heart.
“Remus, I-,” Sirius began, but was shushed by a hand over his mouth.
Shaking his head sadly, Remus murmured, “Please, don’t say anything. I don’t want to know.”
Then he did something he had wanted to do for a good many years. He leaned down and pressed his lips against those of his old friend. Sirius was stunned at first, but allowed the contact, reaching up with grasping hands to latch on to Remus’ robes.
Sirius tasted like vomit, and the gruel fed to the prisoners to keep them alive, just barely, and teeth that hadn’t been brushed. And sorrow… the tang of salt was unmistakable.
After only the briefest of moments, Remus pulled away and gently disengaged Sirius’ hands from his clothing. With a sad smile, he turned and walked away, the taste still lingering on his lips, where it would reside for the coming days, months, years that followed.
“And now, I can put them all behind me,” Remus told Dumbledore. And so they left, neither one of them commenting on the lie.

Chapter Two

Fri, 27 Jun 2003 02:40:47 GMT

Title: Untitled
Author: Damian Kaziah
Notes: And here is chapter two of my book, once again I would like to point out that it is a rough draft.

Chapter Two

On his way to the tree, Lystrian made a brief detour. His long strides took him quickly to the royal stables where his four-legged companion was stabled with all of the kings best horses.

Years of experience allowed him to enter and reach Wind’s stall in the near total darkness of the building. He opened the door and entered the geldings stall. Wind whickered and nibbled his shoulder. Lystrian smiled at his beloved horse and patted his broad white nose.

“I’m sorry my old friend, but you are not to accompany me on this journey,” he informed the horse, who looked most upset by this news and promptly turned his rather large back on his owner, causing Lystrian to laugh.

“I promise to bring you back treats from far off lands,” he continued as he picked up his other sack. He had left it in the stall so that no one would see him carrying it out of the house. After all, there were only so many extra bags Orea could carry out without looking suspicious. Not that that had been much of an issue in the end, but there had been no way Lystrian could have known his father would just let him walk out the front door.

Bag securely in place on his back, he deftly strapped on his sword and gathered his bow and quiver. It was slightly awkward having both his quiver and bag on his back, but he was new to travelling and assumed that Orea would help him work out a better way to manage as they began to wander.

As he was opening the stall door to step out, the large sorrel gelding turned back around and affectionately nuzzled him. “Yes, I’ll miss you too. Behave.”

Lystrian closed the door behind him and walked out of the stables, feeling the large blue eyes of his horse following him. Somehow parting from his horse was proving more emotionally taxing than his goodbye to his father.

Head down and fighting tears he deemed silly and sentimental, Lystrian continued on his way. It was a short walk to the forest and the well-worn path to the Great Tree was easy to follow in the darkness.

The Great Tree was the central meeting place of the people of Zatar. Everything from royal coronations to weddings and illicit trysts were carried on beneath the boughs of the ancient oak tree. Legend had it that a great wizard had come to the first ruler of Zatar and guided him in the establishment of his country, providing the wisdom and knowledge that had allowed it to grow into the thriving nation it now was. After the country was established, the wizard had decided it was time for her to move on. However, as a parting gift she had left a seed in the hands of that first king and told him to plant it on the first night of the new year. There was a prophecy that went with it as well. Zatar would thrive until the tree died.

Now, since prophesies of this sort were common and something similar was found in literally every known nation it wasn’t given much thought. Trees lived an exceptionally long time, and the Elves were determined to enjoy the beauty of the Great Tree for as long as it lived, but they weren’t likely to panic when it finally succumbed to the weight of the ages.

As Lystrian approached, he heard the muted rustling of leaves and giggles that told him that he and Orea would not be the only ones meeting at the tree that night. Many a night Lystrian himself had met a lover under the tree, and sometimes even climbed up onto on of the strong, broad branches. Those giggles were just another reminder of all that he would be leaving. Not just the careless gaiety of midnight meetings, but some certain lovers he had taken in his time. While he would not miss most, there was one in particular that he would regret not saying goodbye to. He only hoped that Morgan would forgive him in time.

Orea was standing at the base of the tree, eyes cast upward at the moon and arms extended above her head. As he drew closer he could hear her singing softly to the shining guardian. She had tried to explain to him what role the moon played in the lives of the wizards, but he had never been able to completely grasp it. All he had managed to remember was something about a home on the moon with the gods. Any more than that and he had gotten so baffled by names that she had gotten frustrated and stalked off.

He waited patiently nearby for her to finish her song, and when she turned he stepped forward. Her face reflected a bit of surprise. “You’re early.”

“Not really. I believe I managed to make it right on time, if the placement of the moon in the sky is anything to judge by.”

“Considering I expected you to arrive several hours late, if at all, you are early. I assume you made it out of the house without a hitch then?”

“I didn’t have any difficulty, no.” Lystrian looked slightly away. She noticed and chuckled.

“I’ll get the true story out of you next time I get you drunk,” she promised, bending to pick up her own bags. She paced around behind him and he could just see her shaking her head. “Try arranging them like this,” she offered, shifting his quiver slightly to the right so that his bag put less weight on his shoulder. “That should be more comfortable. And now, your last bag.”

After about ten minutes of organizing they were ready to go, all of their bags securely and fairly comfortably in place. “Don’t worry, Lys,” she assured him as they began to walk out of the clearing and back into the forest. “It gets easier with practice. Soon enough it will only take you ten seconds to get your bags situated.”

He snorted with derision and glared straight ahead. “I do hope you’re right about that. I also hope it gets easier to carry all of this weight.”

“The longer you walk the less weight there is to carry as you eat your way through the food supply. And yes, your back and shoulders get used to the weight and your body accommodates for it. Here’s a question for you. Is the pampered little royal willing to put up with the pain and discomfort long enough to grow comfortable with it?”

Lystrian stopped dead and glared at her. “I’m not pampered.”

“You do realize you won’t be able to wash your hair every day, right?”

When he started walking again he made sure to slam his shoulder into her as he passed. For some reason, she seemed to find this immensely funny and laughed for a good ten minutes as they journeyed deeper into the woods.

Chapter One

Fri, 27 Jun 2003 02:38:51 GMT

Title: Untitled
Author: Damian Kaziah
Notes: This is the first chapter of the novel I'm working on. It's a work in progress, and a rough draft, so bear with me. But please do tell me what you think of it.

Chapter One

“That is not going to work.”

“And why not?”

“Well, it’s just ridiculous. I mean, look at that thing.”

Lystrian gazed at the long, brown robe draped over his arm, then back at Orea. “It is the garb of my parents servants. Why would it not work?”

With a chuckle, Orea threw her hands up in the air and shook her head, her brown hair dancing around her shoulders. “Whatever you like, my friend. It is your escape attempt after all.” Gracefully she bent down and scooped a travelling bag off of the floor. It was already packed with Lystrian’s belongings, however the bag was so nondescript that none would question the ownership. It would simply be assumed that it belonged to Orea. The wizard was a known wanderer, and would often vanish for long periods of time with no warning.

Blue eyes flashed with irritation as the young noble paced to the window, gazing out at the failing daylight. “I will meet you at the Great Tree tonight as we planned,” he assured her.

Red velvet slid across the deep forest green of the rug as Orea made her way to the door. Her hand on the simple silver knob, Orea glanced back, her brown eyes dancing. “Very well, my young friend. I shall await you under the tree. However, do not arrive too late. I would like to reach the next town by noon tomorrow for lunch. From there we can decide where it is we wish to go.”

“I told you. I will meet you at the Great Tree. Now leave so that I can get ready to sneak out!”

“Sometimes I forget you are younger than me, Lystrian,” Orea informed the young Elf. “And sometimes you make it painfully clear that I am much, much older than you.”

“I’m nearing two thousand years old,” Lystrian interjected, spinning around to glare at her, his back with its cloak of golden hair pressed to the wall. The pout that graced his lips was enough to send Orea into a fit of musical laughter.

“Even among your own people that is young,” she pointed out, beautiful face slightly twisted from the strain of not indulging in further laughter. “I am nearly ten thousand and that is young for my people. I do not often bring this point up to you, and prefer to treat you as an equal, but sometimes could you please just admit that I may have a better idea of what I am talking about than you do.”

“If you think me such a child you are free to end our friendship.”

“You are one of the wisest individuals I have ever met, Lystrian. Rarely do I find one that I can talk so freely with. You are clever, educated, philosophical and logical. However, sometimes you get a bit carried away with your mad schemes and all of that logic and intelligence goes out the window in your mad headlong dash towards whatever goal you have set for yourself.”

A slightly hurt look graced the delicate face of the Elf, but behind the look was acceptance. Orea sighed. He would never admit that she was right, at least not at this stage in his life, but he did realize what she said was the truth. Even if he never agreed with her, it would be taken into consideration in the future, and that was all she could really ask. Despite all his intelligence, he was a noble, and with that title came a certain state of mind. He literally expected everything to work out for him the way he planned it to and up to this point in his life it always had.

However, the outside world was a cruel place, and often stripped illusions away. Lystrian could handle it though, of that Orea was certain. She wouldn’t risk helping him sneak out if she weren’t. This did not mean he wouldn’t be rudely surprised once he got out there though.

Personally, she was of the opinion that he had been listening to one too many Bards.

“Shouldn’t you be going?” he interrupted her thoughts, not in an attempt to be rude, but because if she didn’t leave she wouldn’t be ready to meet him later that night.

“Yes, yes. I’m going, I’m going. I’ll meet you under the Tree, Lystrian. And do not fail to show up. I will be most put out if you leave me standing there waiting all night.”

“I assure you, it won’t come to that.”

“Then I won’t be annoyed with you.”

“No, you won’t.”

They stared at each other in silence for several moments, the wizard in her blood red robes and gold trim, and the Elven noble in his blue tunic and brown pants. It was one of those moments forever imprinted in the minds of those involved. It was the moment of decision, in which all of the plans they had made became concrete. This was real. They were going to go travelling together.

Without breaking eye contact, Orea opened the door behind her and slipped out into the hall. “I’ll be waiting,” she told him before the door clicked shut.

Lystrian stood listening as her footsteps faded down the hallway. His eyes fell on the window again. His parents had never really caged him. Anything and everything he wanted he was allowed, including access to the library where he had greedily devoured everything he could find.

The hills, the buildings, the streets and trees and fountains all had become painfully familiar to the young Elf during his life. What he really wanted to see were the mountains in the distance. The other cities he had read about, the other races he knew walked the land. He wanted to see them and learn about them first hand, and then come back and record what he had found.

Looking out his window and across the courtyard he could easily see the palace where his cousins lived with his uncle, the King. King Landar had ruled Zatar for many years, longer than Lystrian had been alive. His father was the younger brother of the King, and third in line for the throne, after the two sons of Landar. This put Lystrian fourth in line for the throne, not that it meant he would ever rule.

Elves were virtually immortal, and so it was highly unlikely that the king, his sons, and his brother would all be killed. This fact did not stop Lystrian’s parents from trying to marry him off, much to his displeasure. No matter how many times he told them that he was simply not the type to marry, and that in fact he preferred to take men to bed, they still persisted.

That was another reason he wanted to escape. He was weary of the court politics, and though he was good at them they rather irritated him. As a result, he often hid before and during court functions. Especially the formal balls. Those he loathed with a passion, though he did enjoy the chance to dress up and be admired. He was very attractive, and knew it.

While he often gloated about his appearance, he wasn’t all that vain in truth. He knew he was attractive, and that was all there was too it. Sometimes, though, he found it amusing to preen and show off.

Sadly, over the years this had lost some of its fun. No one new was coming in save the occasional Bard, and so there was no one to show off to that might have a new reaction. He knew the ones that lusted after him, the ones that humored him, the ones that admired him and the ones that were irritated by him.

Zatar had been at peace for years beyond count, and gradually trade had slowed to a mere trickle. From a small country that was barely able to care for itself, Zatar had grown under generations of good rulers to become a self sufficient and highly respected country in the world.

Not many travelers came to visit, but members of the High Council did leave to partake in world affairs, and they were always listened to with great reverence. Many a war and crisis had been averted by the wisdom of Zatar.

Lystrian was a young Elf, however, and one with a warriors spirit. Though he could appreciate his luck in growing up in such a fine country he also found himself growing restless and bored. Besides, all of the news from outside that had been recorded in recent centuries had been politically based. As a self-proclaimed scholar, he could not allow the omission of the lives of the civilians to go unchallenged.

That was the main reason he wanted to travel with Orea. She knew the lay of the lands around them, and how to fit in with the common people. Not to mention the fact that she was a powerful fire mage and could easily cover his back if something went wrong.

Outside the sun had set. It was time to put his plans into action.

Hastily he threw the brown robe over his head. The hood covered his face, and the folds of it fell to the floor. Since it was summer the sleeves only reached down to his elbows, but it was all he could find.

Casting one last glance around his room, the place he had grown up, he pressed his ear to the door. He could hear no sounds in the hallway, so he opened the door a crack and peered out. There was no sign of anyone approaching. Silently he slipped into the hallway and closed his bedroom door behind him. It shut with a quiet click.

Nerves on edge, he began to walk down the hall at a moderate pace. Quickly enough that he looked like a servant on duty and so should not be interrupted, but not quickly enough to call attention to himself.

He passed his parents quarters and reached the staircase with no problems. Halfway down the stairs he heard someone coming up and fought down the urge to panic. “You aren’t doing anything to call attention. Servants travel these stairs all the time. Don’t panic,” he sternly ordered himself.

Seconds later a servant came into view and passed him right by without a second glance. His hands were shaking, but he pressed onwards, thanking the Goddess for not allowing him to betray his identity in a moment of hysteria.

With no further event he reached the ground floor and passed the dining hall and council chambers.

Finally the great oak doors were in sight with their carved vines. All worry was thrown to the wind. “I made it!” he told himself.

“Where, exactly, do you think you are going dressed like that?”

His blood froze, as did the rest of him.

“Don’t think I don’t know it’s you, Lystrian. You’re the only one in this country that I know of with a leaf tattoo going down your arm.”

Lystrian glanced at his arm, exposed to plain sight by the shortened sleeves. Swearing under his breath and blushing he turned to face his father.

His father was slightly shorter than him, at 6’ even, but he had the same eyes and hair. Lystrian had gotten his delicate facial structure from his mother, however. His father had a broader face, handsome but most definitely masculine. His blue eyes were twinkling with amusement at the antics of his only child.

“If you want to leave that badly, just go out the front door as yourself and do away with the silly costume,” his father chided, shaking his head. “Honestly, I should really stop leaving you alone to talk with all those Bards. They put ideas into your head.”

“You mean I can go?” Lystrian asked, not believing his ears.

“You are a full grown man, my son. I cannot stop you. If you wish to go gallivanting around the world then all I ask is that you do it as safely as you can, and that you visit us when you may so that we can hear about your adventures.”

Lystrian was numb. Last time he had mentioned travelling his father had told him he didn’t want him to leave the country, and that had been the end of that. Of course, looking back he realized he had only been around one thousand at the time.

“Then I suppose I will be going now,” he offered lamely. “My love to mother.”

“I shall pass on the message. Be careful, my son. And do take off those silly robes. They were made for someone at least six inches shorter than yourself.”

Blushing red with chagrin, Lystrian stripped off the robes and handed them to his father before slipping out the door of his home and into the night beyond.

As he hiked through the twilight shadows in the direction of the Great Tree, he vowed that Orea would never find out that he had been caught like that. It was just too embarrassing.

Season of Ending

Thu, 26 Jun 2003 06:03:21 GMT

Title: Season of Ending
Author: Damian Kaziah
Notes: This is an original short story I wrote, so no, it's not Harry Potter. However, reading back over it I am amazed at how it turned out. Much better than I even remembered it. Please, this one means a bit more to me personally, so tell me what you think of it.

He was a jumble of contradictions. He was also the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my life.
There he sat, on a bench near the bus stop, apparently unconcerned that the bus had just left without him. Instead, he seemed focused inward, a small, dreamy smile on his face.
I, however, was mortified at missing the bus. I left my home early enough to have been able to stop off for coffee on the way in. My car, however, had other plans. Apparently it wanted a vacation day. After struggling with it for ten minutes, I had given up and sprinted to the bus stop, just in time to see the bus pull away.
Once it was out of sight, around a corner, I sighed and settled myself down on the bench next to the strange man, resigned to wait for the next one. Hopefully, my boss would understand.
After trying to count the cracks in the sidewalk, I gave up and decided to just do what I had wanted to do all along. Namely, study him.
While he looked young, I got the distinct impression of great age and wisdom from him. His hair was covered by a green bandana; the blond tresses hanging down past his shoulders, the tips dyed the familiar warm shade of henna.
His jeans were ripped at the knees, but his green silk shirt was impeccably stylish. Long fingers swirled the air, as if gently turning an invisible arrow.
Seeming to sense me staring, he turned his green eyes to me, and smiled. Something shot from his eyes, into my stomach, breeding a host of butterflies there. There is no way to describe how I felt at that moment. It was electric. The shock hit my brain, and all I knew was that I had to talk to this man.
“Nice weather we’re having, isn’t it?” I asked, mentally kicking myself at the cliché.
He seemed to ponder this a moment, looking around at the trees and birds, then he shrugged. “I have seen better, but then, I have seen a great many days.”
His voice was like the flowing of a clear mountain stream. I was infatuated.
Gracefully he leaned back, tossing one arm over the back of the grubby bench. He had a silver hoop in his ear that caught the sun and blazed silver light, as if he was wearing a star in his ear. Had he told me that that was the case, I would have believed it of him.
“Do you feel it?” he asked suddenly, his gaze again spearing into me.
Bewildered, I put my hands up. “Feel what?”
“Her sorrow. Her pain,” he replied, eyes clouded with a sorrow deeper than any mortal could fathom. “She is crying out, and no one hears. No one helps Her.”
“Who?”
“The planet,” he replied simply, as if this was a perfectly normal conversation. Perhaps for him, it was.
I shifted uncomfortably. I recycled. I car pooled when I could. I did little things to save the planet, but I knew that I could do more, if I wished. I was just too lazy.
“I know that nature is…uh, being decimated,” I tried and he shook his head, long hair whipping about his face.
“Murdered,” he corrected.
“Okay,” I replied, because it was easier.
With a motion faster than my eyes could follow, he stood up in front of me, and leaned down so that his face was inches from my own. I could smell him then, a scent of vanilla and sandalwood. A smell like autumn, the season of ending.
“Yes, ending, little one,” he agreed, sensing my thoughts. “For that is what my people are doing. Ending.”
“Why?” I asked, not asking any rational questions, such as who his people were, or why he was revealing this to me, or if he really shouldn’t be in a hospital somewhere. All I could see were those vivid eyes.
“Because we are tired,” he replied. “And so we leave this place.”
“What happens then?”
“I don’t know.” His eyes warmed. “That is up to you, little one.”
Before I could ask what he meant, he leaned in and kissed me gently in the middle of my forehead. Distinctly I felt the sensation of a closed eye being gently caressed with soft lips in the middle of my head.
I fear that my eyes gave away my worry. I honestly feared that if I reached up, I would find the short, rough fringe of eyelash around the delicate flesh of an eyelid. However, my hand found nothing but smooth skin.
With a warm smile, my strange companion whispered the words “Do not be afraid.” Then he was gone, as if he had never been there, but he didn’t leave quite quickly enough for me not to notice the contours under his bandana. I could see that some small braids had been woven in, and I could also see that his ears were distinctly pointed.
Outwardly I look the same, but inwardly, I have been forever changed by that one encounter. I continue to help the planet in small ways, but I also seek to make more of an impact. I feel the cry of nature, and long to remedy it. This has become my life long goal.
That day, I walked home and called in sick to work. I spent the rest of the daylight hours in a park, walking beneath the trees.

Breaking Point

Thu, 26 Jun 2003 05:02:39 GMT

Title: Breaking Point
Author: Damian Kaziah
Summary: Things reach the breaking point between Remus and Sirius. Follows 'October Lights'
Disclaimer: Not my characters...alas....
Rating: PG-13?
Spoilers: PoA?
Notes: Please leave comments! And any archive is welcome to any of my stories, just leave me a note first. Thankee!

Breaking Point

The spider web in the back yard had been removed from the tree, and the candles placed in storage. The fire pit had been filled in and the stray ashes swept away. All vestiges of the Halloween party were lost, as was, apparently, the passion Sirius and Remus had almost given into that night, or so it seemed to Sirius, and he was less than pleased about it.
“We almost kissed!” he thought irritably, staring blankly out the window at the exact spot where it had almost happened. “And now you’d think he’d forgotten or something!”
Sirius could see Remus out of the corner of his eye. His roommate was sitting and reading a book, completely absorbed in it, or so Sirius thought. What he didn’t know was that Remus hadn’t turned a page in over an hour, and was actually watching Sirius and thinking of that same evening that was so prominent in Sirius’ mind.
Finally Remus glanced at the clock and shut his book. Standing up, he set it on the table. “I’m going for a walk,” he announced.
“Okay. I’ll probably go out and visit James and Lily,” Sirius replied, standing himself.
They each walked to opposite ends of the room, heading to their own destinations, when they both paused in the doorway and looked back. The air between them crackled, and something snapped.
Before either of them could register what was going on, they were in each other’s arms in the middle of the room, hands traveling everywhere, eyes searching out the hidden secrets in the other’s mind. And then they were kissing, passionately, as all the fire that had been stoked for so long burst into glorious life.
“Love you. Love you so much,” Remus was murmuring, dusting kisses all over Sirius’ face.
“Love you too. For so long. Love you,” Sirius replied, kissing Remus back.
“You’re wearing too much clothing,” Remus growled, his hands sliding out of Sirius’ hair and down to the edge of his black shirt, tugging at it.
“I’m not the only one.” Sirius bit Remus on the neck, causing him to gasp and press more tightly against Sirius.
“Not here,” Remus hissed urgently. “Not for the first time. Not here on the floor. My room. Now.”
Sirius wasn’t about to argue.

Afterwards they lay in a sweaty heap in Remus’ bed, arms tightly entwined about each other.
“What set that off?” Sirius finally asked, amusement in his voice.
“I think we hit the breaking point,” Remus replied sleepily, kissing the top of his new lovers head. “There was only so much romantic and sexual tension between us that we could stand before we snapped.”
“It’s about bloody time.”
“I agree. I am merely surprised it took so long,” Remus sighed, obviously drifting off.
Sirius smiled against the warm flesh of Remus’ chest. “Me too,” he murmured, then allowed himself to lose his grip on the waking world as well. After all, then he could wake up and find Remus there with him, and he could think of nothing better in the world.

October Lights

Thu, 26 Jun 2003 04:58:44 GMT

Title: October Lights
Author: Damian Kaziah
Summary: Remus and Sirius have a Halloween party. Follows 'Insomnia'.
Disclaimer: Not my characters...just how I wished my Halloween party would turn out.
Rating: PG-13?
Spoilers: PoA, maybe
Notes: I got my loverly new icon at http://www.a-coy.netfirms.com

October Lights

“It looks great, guys,” James Potter told his friends as he and his wife, Lily, stepped out the back door of the house and into the decorated back yard.
“Thanks,” Remus Lupin said with a smile, shoving long poles with unlit candles on the top into the ground around the patio.
“We’ve been working on it for the last few hours,” Sirius Black stated, arranging rocks around a pit for a fire.
“It will look even better when it’s actually dark,” Remus added.
“Is there anything we can do to help?” James asked, gazing around the large backyard of his friend’s house.
“Sure. Volunteer to clean up!” Sirius suggested, and Remus hit him upside the head. “Ow…”
“Bad dog. Behave,” Remus scolded, then grinned at Lily. “Well, if you wouldn’t mind too much, Lils, could you help me in the kitchen? I’m not much of a cook, but I can’t trust Sirius to it.”
Lily Potter laughed. “No problem!”
Remus couldn’t disguise the look of relief that crossed his face. “Thank you.”
Any further plans were interrupted by James calling, “Sirius, I don’t think that branch is thick enough to hold your weight.”
Remus spun around, worry evident in his motion. “Sirius! Get down!” he shouted.
“I’ll be fine!” Sirius assured them, magically weaving a giant glittering spider web between the branches. His friends watched with apprehension as he worked, but he managed to finish with no mishap.
“There!” he announced, and then he made his mistake. He tried to step back and admire his handiwork, but the branch wasn’t wide enough, and before he knew what was happening, he was on his back on the ground, staring up at the sky.
Seeing him start to fall, Remus took off running for the tree, causing James and Lily to exchange a significant look. Sirius was on the ground too quickly for him to stop the fall, but he fell to his knees beside his friend only seconds after impact.
“Are you alright?” he asked, looking Sirius over for any visible injuries.
Sirius groaned and sat up, obviously embarrassed at his own stupidity. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
Remus sighed with relief, and his good humor returned. “I suppose it’s a good thing you managed to land on your ego. You may have been hurt otherwise.”
Sirius glared at him, and would have commented, but James and Lily had wandered up.
“How is he?” James asked, a twinkle in his eye. It was quite clear to him that Sirius wasn’t injured.
“Any injuries?” Lily inquired.
“Only to his pride,” Remus replied, and then rubbed his arm where Sirius had hit him for it.
“You guys suck,” Sirius pouted, standing up and stalking off.
James and Lily watched Remus expectantly as he stood up, brushing the leaves off of his pants. He noticed their looks and raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Aren’t you going to go after him?” Lily finally asked.
Remus looked perplexed. “Why would I do that?”
“Never mind,” Lily quickly said, waving her hand dismissively. “Shall we get to the kitchen?”
“Good idea.”

“I love Halloween,” Lily commented, pulling the baked pumpkin seeds out of the oven. Earlier that day Remus and Sirius had carved pumpkins, and Remus had insisted on hanging onto the seeds in case he suddenly figured out how to cook them. He was glad now that he had insisted.
“So do I,” Remus replied, stirring the chocolate chips into the cookie dough.
“Lovely Jack o’ Lanterns, by the way.”
“Thank you.” The smile warmed Remus’ eyes, and Lily had to remind herself that she was married. A thought that led easily into the topic she had hoped to bring up with the quiet werewolf. “So, can I ask you something?”
“Certainly.”
“Stop eating the dough, or there won’t be enough for cookies,” she reprimanded, swatting at his greedy fingers. He grinned and shrugged and went back to stirring, not looking at all remorseful. She had to chuckle, but she was determined. “Why are you not married? I mean, really?”
“What?” he asked, laughing.
“Oh, come on. Handsome, sweet, intelligent. You’re every girls dream. And you’re still inexplicably single.”
“Well, I’m also a werewolf,” he remarked casually, trying to cover up how much that fact hurt him.
“Dear,” Lily sighed, putting her hand on his shoulder, “I’m sure that there are any number of women in this world who would still take you, if that’s your only flaw.”
“Not the only one,” he informed her, careful not to meet her eyes, keeping his back to her. “I roll around in my sleep, sing in the shower, and….” He trailed off almost nervously, making Lily even more eager. From the way he had been speaking, it sounded almost as if… Well, that was what she was trying to prove.
“And?” she prompted when it became apparent that he wasn’t going to say anything else.
“And...” Was that a blush she saw on his cheeks? She was relatively certain it was. “And I happen…to not like sharing my chocolate.” To demonstrate, he took a handful of chips from the bag and ate them, smiling contentedly.
Lily laughed, but was inwardly irritated. “He’s a tough one. I hope James is faring better!”

“Don’t tell me you’re tired already!” Sirius teased, stopping in his work to look at James.
James wiped the sweat from his brow and glared at his best friend. “Why are we doing this the Muggle way again?”
“Because Remus won’t let me do it with magic anymore,” Sirius replied shortly, continuing to saw up the dead branch for firewood.
Knowing his friends, James raised an eyebrow. “What did you do?” Sirius pointedly ignored him, a sure sign a previous attempt had ended spectacularly. “What did you do, Sirius?”
“I didn’t do anything,” he snapped, still not looking at James.
“How long did it take for the bruises to heal?” James inquired, going back to work himself.
“Three weeks, and he had to repair the fence himself because the Ministry was keeping me busy that week.”
James burst out laughing, tossing his head back. “You idiot! You probably tried to do more than the spell allowed for, didn’t you?”
“It seemed more efficient that way.”
“Oh, Sirius,” James sighed, still shaking with mirth. A stick hit him in the side of the head, but it hadn’t been thrown hard enough to hurt.
James opted to change the subject. “So, enjoying life with Moony?”
He could see the grin spread over Sirius’ face as he replied in a slightly dreamy tone of voice, “Yeah, it’s great. Could hardly be better…” Oh yes, the grin had changed to a smirk as Sirius thought of how it could be better, and James had a sneaking suspicion he knew what his friend was planning.
“You’re smitten with him, aren’t you?” he asked with all the forthright candor his position of best friend granted him.
“Shut up and die,” Sirius replied, with all the irritation he was allowed to show to his best friend. “I am not smitten with Moony.”
“Then you’re in love with him?” James suggested, raising an eyebrow.
“Bite me,” Sirius growled.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” James interpreted, and Sirius didn’t even try to argue.

Two hours later found darkness falling, and all of the party preparations finished. James and Sirius had already taken showers, and Remus was in washing off while the other three sat in the kitchen and talked.
James and his wife had already traded tales, and knew of the others success, or lack thereof, in Lily’s case. Now they were both drilling Sirius, who looked less than pleased with the situation.
“So, he’s never said anything to you?” James asked for the hundredth time.
“No,” Sirius sighed, burying his face in his hands. “Will you two leave me alone now?”
“How long have you liked him?” Lily inquired.
Sirius glared at her most venomously, and was saved from a response by the bathroom door opening and Remus entering the room, his wet hair hanging damply around his shoulders.
Having noticed the abrupt end of conversation, he raised one golden brown eyebrow. “What were you all talking about?”
“He won’t tell us what costumes you two decided on,” James quickly lied while Sirius groaned.
“Okay,” Remus replied, obviously not believing a word of it, but unable to inquire further. “Speaking of which, the party starts in twenty minutes, and people will probably start arriving in thirty, so we should get dressed. Lily, you can dress in Padfoot’s room, and the rest of us…”
“I’ll go change with Lily,” James quickly volunteered, standing up, a strange glint in his eyes. Lily laughed and began walking to Sirius’ room, James right behind her.
“Hey! That’s my room! I sleep in that bed!” Sirius shouted, on the verge of panic.
“Don’t worry, Sirius. Nothing will happen,” Lily assured him, causing James to sulk.
Remus laughed and pulled Sirius away to his room, where he closed the door and began undressing. Sirius paused, admiring the view of Remus’ torso as he reached up to the shelf in his closet where he had his costume, before taking off his own shirt and starting to undo his pants.
“Excited?” Remus asked, pulling his leggings, and not noticing the sudden fit of coughing Sirius had developed.
Once he had gotten himself under control, Sirius smiled at his friend. “Yeah. This party is going to be a blast.”
“I hope so.”
“What do you think they’ll say about my costume?” Sirius asked, pulling off his pants and tossing them aside, thinking to himself how nice his pants looked in a crumpled heap on Remus’ floor.
“They’ll think you’re unoriginal.”
“At least my costume is self explanatory.”
Remus shrugged. “Those of culture and reading will understand.”
“Whatever you say.”
“I can’t help that you’re illiterate.”
“I am not!”
“When have I seen you reading a book?”
Sirius stood up and stalked across the room to glare at Remus, who watched him with amusement. “Moony, if you don’t shut up….”
“You’ll do what? Bite me? Frankly, my dear friend, I think you should refrain from biting me, for fear that I’ll bite back.”
Blinking, Sirius gauged his friends’ expression. Remus had to be in a really good mood to joke about his lycanthropy so casually.
“Yes, I did just say that,” Remus confirmed.
“I’m glad you’re happy tonight,” Sirius sighed, reaching out and pulling Remus into a hug, only then realizing that they were both shirtless. It felt amazing, holding Remus against him then, bare flesh on bare flesh. He found himself lost in the moment, and didn’t even notice that Remus had closed his eyes and wound his arms around Sirius’ waist.
They stood like that for several minutes before Remus pulled away reluctantly. “Come on. Let’s get dressed, Siri.”
Grumbling, Sirius turned back to his costume, a black silk shirt with red trim, tight black pants, a long black cape, and of course, two magically affixed fangs.
He turned around, swishing his cape dramatically. “How do I look?” he asked, then froze. “Remus!”
Remus blinked at him innocently, fastening a belt around his waist. “What?”
“You look fantastic!”
“Do I?” Remus turned to face a mirror and looked himself up and down. “Can you tell who I’m supposed to be?”
“The large Pendragon symbol on your chest is a bit of a giveaway.”
“Well, that was the point.”
Remus stood there in black leggings covered by a red tunic with golden trim and a large gold dragon emblazoned on the front. Brown boots ensconced his feet, and at his hip, a fine replica of Excalibur hung at a jaunty angle. A simple gold circlet crowned his head, the color of it drawing out the golden strands in his hair.
He shrugged and turned back to his friend. “Shall we go? People will be arriving soon. Or at least Peter will. You know he’ll want to get here in time to get to the food first.”
“Nice of him to show up in time to gorge himself, but not in time to help us,” Sirius muttered irritably.
Remus laughed. “Be nice, Padfoot.”
Sirius sulked. “I don’t want to. I had to work all day for this, and he claimed he was busy. You know he was just sitting at home eating all day!”
“That may be true, Siri, but he’s our friend and you should be nice to him. Okay?”
“Fine,” Sirius huffed, before sweeping to the door and opening it, bowing low. “After you, milord.”
Remus straightened his back, placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, gazing down his nose at Sirius. “Good man.” And he strode out the bedroom door just in time to hear a knock at the door.

Fifteen minutes later, the small house was packed with guests: friends from Hogwarts, co-workers of Remus and Sirius, and just about anyone who wanted to come. As there was little room, they were all waiting impatiently for the signal to move outside.
Finally, the back door opened and Remus stood in it, smiling broadly. “Come on out,” he said, gesturing grandly with his arm.
People filed out and were stunned. Around the patio were a number of torches planted in the ground, the light of the burning candles shining through the star and moon shaped holes in their enclosures and casting the designs on anyone who came near. The spider web Sirius had created in the tree was sparkling as if with the morning dew. White fairy lights hovered in the tree branches, and occasionally danced around the yard, a faint tinkling melody following in their wake.
In the center of the large patio, a fire pit had been constructed, and a fire was already burning merrily, the hunks of cedar wood expelling a pleasant scent.
Set back from the fire was a table laden with foods, the vast majority of which contained chocolate. The punch was a murky, blood red color to fit the mood of the night, and Remus was relatively certain that Sirius had added some amount of alcohol to it when he had left him unsupervised so that he could open the door.
Skull candle holders were placed in an orderly fashion along the center line of the table, and their eyes would glow red if anyone approached to help themselves to some of the treats.
“This is fantastic!” Peter enthused, all the while munching on a cookie.
“Yeah. Thanks for your help on it, by the way. We appreciated it,” Sirius quipped, grabbing a chocolate bar from Remus, who glared at him reproachfully, but didn’t say anything, turning instead to a chocolate frog he had also procured for himself.
“Oh, Sirius,” Lily chuckled, shaking her head. Then she glanced around at the decorations. “It is lovely though. The yard seems very romantic.”
“Which means she wants you to start the music so she can make me dance with her,” James translated, and Lily hit him, laughing.
Remus quickly finished off the chocolate frog and nodded. “Very well.” With a wave of his wand, music filled the air, coming from unseen speakers set around the area. It wasn’t long before couples began making their way to the open expanse of grass to dance.
“My lady?” James asked, every inch the Renaissance gentleman that Lily had dressed him as.
“Certainly, my lord,” Lily replied regally, taking his hand and letting him lead her to the grass, her Renaissance skirts barely making a ripple as she passed.
“I think I can tell who runs that relationship,” Sirius remarked, watching them off.
“How many times do I have to tell you to be nice tonight, Padfoot?” Remus chuckled, looking at his friend.
“As many times as you want. It doesn’t mean I’m going to listen,” Sirius pointed out, turning to meet Remus’ gaze. And there it held as he sought to read the deeper emotions that were hidden in the depths of those golden eyes.
Their soulful gaze was interrupted by Peter clearing his throat. “Oh, well. There’s that girl I liked at Hogwarts. I think I’ll go ask her to dance.”
“You do that. And good luck.” Remus smiled at his shorter friend, the moment with Sirius ruined, like so many others.
“Speaking of which, we should do some dancing too, don’t you think, Moony?”
“Of course!” Remus agreed, grabbing Sirius’ sleeve and drawing him away from the fire and out under the trees where the vast majority of their guests were already moving with the music.

“I need a drink!” Remus announced to Sirius where they were dancing with a group of friends. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were glowing from the exertion. Sirius had to be careful not to look at him, because the sight could take his breath away.
“There’s alcohol in the punch,” Sirius announced, glancing slightly to the right of him.
Remus laughed. “I know! But I’m so thirsty that I don’t care!”
Sirius grinned at him, just as the music slowed down. Without really knowing what he was doing, he closed the two-step distance between them and slid his arms around Remus, pulling him close. “Can’t you wait just one more dance?”
The amber eyes softened and a smile crept onto his face. “Perhaps one more dance, as long as it’s slow.”
“Of course,” Sirius murmured, reveling in the feel of Remus in his arms.
Remus snaked his arms around Sirius and began swaying in time with the music. Sirius attempted to move with him, but having the sense of rhythm of the dog he could transform into, he didn’t quite accomplish it, causing Remus to laugh at him.
“Sometimes, I hate you,” Sirius scowled at him.
“No, you don’t,” Remus replied, looking at him levelly.
“Shut up, Moony,” Sirius chuckled, hugging him tightly.
Remus smiled at him, and Sirius felt his chest contract. “Remus,” he murmured, unable to move or think.
The werewolf sighed, almost impatiently, and then they were leaning close, their eyes drifting shut, their breath misting each others faces, as the little silver sparks danced around them, illuminating the scene. The moment, however, was interrupted by a loud explosion.
While they were Marauders and should be used to such things, the sudden loud noise caused them to jerk apart and stare wildly at the sky from whence the sound had come.
Chuckling, Remus shot Sirius a look. “The fireworks.”
“Ah,” Sirius replied, irritated. In those Muggle movies, didn’t the fireworks always go off after the kiss had taken place? The ruddy timing was off.
However, as he glanced up at the multi-hued display in the sky, he changed his mind. Perhaps it was better this way. After all, he wouldn’t want his first kiss with Remus to be cut short!
A smile crept onto his face as he felt Remus snake his arm around his waist. He responded in turn, and then grinned welcomingly at James, Lily and Peter as they pushed through the crowd to join their friends. Soon they found themselves in a group hug, watching the sky with their best friends.
“May things only get better,” Sirius thought, gazing upwards at the October lights.

Insomnia

Thu, 26 Jun 2003 04:33:32 GMT

Title: Insomnia
Author: Damian Kaziah
Summary: Sirius has insomnia. Follows 'Crackers'
Disclaimer: Not my characters...just my own fantasy.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: probably not even really PoA on this one
Dedication: To my Moony...the one I have trouble sleeping without.

Insomnia

Sirius paced back and forth through the kitchen of the small house. It was late and he had had a long day. By all accounts he should have been in bed asleep, but when he had tried to sleep, he had found he was suffering a bout of insomnia.
Usually when this happened, he would wake Remus up and they would talk until Sirius dozed off, but tonight that wasn’t an option. Remus wasn’t home.
His mother’s birthday was the next day, and so Remus had returned to his old home to stay for a few days, leaving Sirius alone to deal with this, well, crisis.
With a pathetic whimper, Sirius slumped onto the couch, his face in his hands. “I’m so tired,” he whined to the empty room.
Suddenly a thought occurred to him. He would still go see Moony. He would just have to Apparate to do it!
Sirius knew well the way Moony’s old room looked, so it would be little to no trouble.
Without thinking of the consequences, he quickly Apparated to that familiar old room.
Remus wasn’t in it, but somewhere above him he could hear the shower running. He stopped to think about what an appealing sight a wet Remus was, but he was too physically exhausted for that thought to get anywhere awkward, for which he was grateful.
The room was emptier than it had been before, but then, that was to be expected. Sirius had helped Remus move most of the furniture out of here himself. However, the large and comforting bed was still in place, and Sirius sank gratefully onto it, staring at the ceiling and waiting.
Eventually the water stopped, and a few minutes after that, footsteps moved across the house, finally pausing at the top of the stairs to wrench open the creaky door. The chimes hung on the back of the door clattered against the wood and Sirius sat up.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Remus saw Sirius and froze. “What are you doing here?” he asked, amusement in his voice. “Miss me already?”
“Well, yes,” Sirius confessed. “But I also have insomnia.”
“Indeed?” Remus raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah.”
“Hmm.” Remus tossed his dirty clothes in the hamper and came over to sit beside Sirius on the bed. “I suppose you want to stay here tonight, don’t you?”
This time the reply was more of a whine, “Yeah.”
Remus smiled warmly at him. “Okay. You can stay. But I’m too tired to go set up a bed for you on the couch, so you’ll have to stay down here with me tonight.”
“I don’t mind,” Sirius shrugged, not looking at him.
Beside him, he could feel Remus settling in to the bed, pulling the covers around himself. “Aren’t you going to join me?” Remus asked, startling Sirius out of his weary daze.
“Oh! Yeah.” Slowly he crawled under the blankets next to Remus, blinking his eyes blearily. Even just being in Remus’ presence made it possible for him to sleep.
Remus propped himself on an elbow and ran one hand through Sirius’ hair. “Tired, aren’t we?”
Sirius murmured something into the pillow in reply, scooting his body closer to the warmth that Remus offered. However, before he dozed off, he looked up at his friend and smiled. “I’m glad I came here. I…I like sharing a bed with you.”
Remus lay down beside him and wrapped an arm around him, wordlessly assuring Sirius that he felt the same way.

Crackers

Wed, 25 Jun 2003 20:39:33 GMT

Title: Crackers
Author: Damian Kaziah
Summary: Remus and Sirius eat crackers.
Disclaimer: Not my characters, but I do eat those 'belly bombs'
Spoilers: none really, save some PoA
Warnings: None
Rating: PG-13...but probably not even that
Dedication: To my mother, who introduced me to hummus
Notes: This is the first in a series of stories. Hope you all enjoy.

Crackers

“Moony, I got lunch ready! Come up here and eat with me,” Sirius bellowed down the stairs to his roommate.
“I don’t have a shirt on!” Remus shouted back.
“Like I care!” Sirius replied, closing the basement door.
Seconds later, he heard grumbling and the sound of feet climbing the creaky stairs. Then the door opened and Remus Lupin wandered into the kitchen, wearing a pair of blue jeans and nothing else.
Sirius thought idly that Remus must truly trust him to allow him to see him shirtless. Even over the summers when they had visited James and gone swimming Remus had worn a t-shirt over his trunks to hide his scars and the painfully thin way his ribs protruded.
Remus sat down and deftly opened the can of pop Sirius had set out. Then he turned his attention to the food. “This is lunch?”
“Well, we are bachelors,” Sirius shrugged. Personally, he didn’t see anything wrong with the crackers, pepperoni and cheese he had laid out for them. The hummus, however, would have embarrassed him had he been eating with anyone other than Moony.
When they had first moved in together, Remus had pulled out some bread to eat as a snack one day, and he had begun putting some sort of spread on it, explaining that his mother had gotten him hooked. When asked what it was, Remus had shown Sirius the container, daring him to laugh at him. Sirius, of course, had laughed and commented on Remus being one of those types of guys. This had earned him a bruise on his upper arm, and an addiction to hummus after Remus had force fed him some.
“No wonder James has been putting on weight, with Lily to make sure he eats well.”
“Yeah,” Sirius laughed. “But she also helps him to, um, ‘work the weight off’.”
“Don’t remind me,” Remus muttered, hiding his face in his hands. “Those two are disgusting. It never stops.”
“Newlyweds,” Sirius replied as if it explained everything, which, actually, it did.
“Hmmm.” Remus then reached out for some crackers and began laying slices of pepperoni on them. An idea apparently occurred to him, and he spread some hummus on the pepperoni before putting the cheese on it. Then, he took a bite, Sirius watching him intently.
“Is it good?” he asked.
Remus half closed his eyes in appreciation. “Yes,” he confirmed once he had finished.
“Cool.”
Soon they were both reaching out across the table grabbing crackers, the knife, the hummus and everything else they were trying to poison their systems with.
“You know,” Remus remarked out of the blue, “It’s good we’re young and not prone to heartburn.”
Sirius laughed. “Young and single.”
“Perpetually, more than likely.”
Blue eyes narrowed. “Why do you say that, Remus? It had better not be because you’re a….” He trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence and remind his friend.
“No. I’m single by choice. You’re single because no one would want you!”
“Hey! And which one of us got dates at Hogwarts?”
Remus glared at him. “Bite me.”
“When and where?”
His friend replied by cocking his head to the side, the motion effectively moving his lengthening hair away from his neck. He cast a meaningful look at Sirius, his eyes glinting with mischief.
The sunlight coming in the window shone on that brown hair, picking out the lighter highlights, and the amber specks in Remus’ eyes. His pale skin shone with an almost other-worldly light.
“You look so beautiful, right now,” Sirius said in a tone of near reverence.
“Huh?” Remus looked perplexed.
“I-….” The Animagi shook his head and sighed, then reached across the small distance dividing them and ran his fingers along the length of Remus’ thin neck, then trailed them down his shoulder and over his chest, tracing each of his ribs.
He noticed that Remus didn’t move away. In fact, his friends breathing seemed to have sped up slightly.
“Lily would kill me, you know,” Sirius remarked in a conversational tone. “She’d think I was eating all the food myself and leaving you with none. You’re too skinny, Moony.”
“It’s not like I don’t eat, Padfoot.”
“I know you do. In fact, when it comes right down to it, you may eat more than I do.”
“It’s possible.”
A silence fell then, and Sirius found his hand stroking Remus’ soft hair. Then he pulled back and the moment was over.
They turned their concentration to their food, leaving crumbs all over the table and floor.
Finally Remus stood up and began clearing things away.
“Hey! I can get it!” Sirius protested.
“You got it out, I can clean it up,” Remus replied calmly, carrying the plates to the sink and rinsing them off.
“Suit yourself.”
“Well, I wouldn’t let you suit me, that’s for sure.”
“Loser.”
“Moron.”
“Book worm.”
“Mutt.”
“I’m glad we’re living together, Moony.”
Remus turned around and smiled at him. “So am I, Padfoot. Now, I have to go to work.”
With that, Remus went downstairs, presumably to dress, and Sirius pulled out some reports from the Ministry.
As the door closed behind Remus, he smiled.
“It seems that things may get very interesting around here,” he mused. “Very interesting.” A huge grin plastered on his face, he got down to work.

Prints in the Dust

Wed, 25 Jun 2003 20:27:47 GMT

Title: Prints in the Dust
Author: Damian Kaziah
Summary: In which there are more things than house elves and boggarts in Sirius' old family home.
Spoilers: minor OotP
Rating: PG
Warning: none, save slightly slashy
Disclaimer: Not my characters...sadly.
Dedication: To my Master

Prints in the Dust

“I have never seen so much dust in my life,” Sirius Black observed, glancing around his old family home.
At his elbow, Remus Lupin toed the ground and watched the dust particles rise from the floor and coat his shoe and the hem of his pants. “I’m afraid I will have to agree with you. Didn’t your family have a house elf?”
Sirius shrugged carelessly. “Doesn’t look like he’s still alive, does it? I suppose that’s one other thing we’ll have to clean out. Dust, moths, boggarts and a decayed house elf.”
“That’s disgusting,” Remus chuckled, shoving his old friend playfully. “I’ll leave that part to you. After all, dogs love the scent of rotting things, don’t they?”
In response, Sirius growled at Remus and they both started laughing. Perhaps they laughed a bit longer than necessary, but seeing as they didn’t really want to get started on the tedious task of cleaning a house that had been empty for years, it was to be expected.

During the course of the day, they aired out most of the bedrooms to make room for the members of the Order who would be lodging there. The kitchen was given a cursory cleaning job, and the house elf was discovered, though he didn’t prove to be much help.
Another room they made sure to clean was the bathroom off of Sirius’ old bedroom. After all, they had spent all day cleaning and getting completely filthy. It would have been daft to then attempt to clean up in a bathroom that was as dirty as they were.
Remus washed first, and went about making the bed with the cleanest sheets they had been able to find. He was very much looking forward to the arrival of Molly Weasley and her family, as he knew that not only would she start cleaning, but she would force her children to help as well. Perhaps it was selfish, but as he was planning to live in this house, he would really rather like it a bit more sanitary than it was.
Not too long after, Sirius emerged from the bathroom, his damp hair clinging to his face and neck in a rather appealing way. Winking at Remus who was watching him intently, he tossed his dirty clothing onto a rickety old chair and crossed the bedroom, sliding under the covers and into the arms of his waiting companion.
“I’ve missed this,” he confessed, nuzzling at Remus’ neck.
The other man chuckled and kissed the top of his head. “I have too. It’s amazing how hard it is to sleep alone when you’ve gotten spoiled by sleeping with someone else.”
Sirius murmured sleepy agreement, and they settled in for the night, too exhausted from working all day to make the best of the evening alone. There would always be more nights to share, after all.
“How many nasty things did we end up chasing out today, Rem?”
Remus yawned widely, mentally calculating. “About five, I think.”
“Think there are a lot more?”
“Would be surprised if there weren’t.”
“Me too.”
Silence settled over the room. Both of the men began to drift peacefully off to sleep, when suddenly a weight landed on Sirius’ stomach.
“Gah!” Sirius was suddenly wide awake, staring in horror at the creature sitting comfortably on his gut. Remus, however, seemed to find this amusing.
“Scared, Padfoot?”
“I didn’t… of course. How could I not have known. How appropriate. To find a beast like this living in my mothers home. I’m just surprised it didn’t occur to me before.”
Chuckling, Remus reached out to the furry little thing and began to scratch it behind the ear. “One more way that your mother tries to tell you that you don’t fit in here, hm?”
“Shut up, Moony,” Sirius growled, burying his face in the pillow, dislodging his ‘guest’ with the motion. It glared at him balefully before leaping off the bed and trotting out of the room.
“I mean, think of it. What dog really belongs in a house that is overrun by cats?”
Sirius groaned and hit Remus with the pillow.