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isidar-mithrim · 4 years ago

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fic: but love the sweet air of the votives (also on ao3)

"Harry was deciding whether he felt like getting up at all when someone else came around the end of the bench. He glanced over, fingers twitching toward his concealed wand, as Remus Lupin settled into the seat next to him." Remus pays Harry a visit. Whumptober Prompt #3: Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones But... | taunting + insults + “Who did this to you?”

The alleyway between Wisteria and Magnolia was usually the way to go if you wanted to avoid people. Harry made the turn without thought, his feet following the path he had trodden hundreds of times.

His shirt stuck to him in the morning heat. He kicked a rock absent-mindedly into a dustbin and blinked up at the sun shining at the mouth of the alley, still on its rise toward the center of the sky. Its warmth felt both brilliant and slightly irritating after a solid fortnight spent shut up in his bedroom.

Harry’s eyes adjusted and he lurched to a stop, hands coming out of his pockets.

Several paces away, Malcolm stopped, too. His shaggy brown hair was longer than Harry remembered, but all in all he had not changed much from the boy who had most often been the one to hold Harry’s arms behind his back as the rest of Dudley’s gang had their fun.

Harry almost turned on his heel out of habit to go back the way he had come, but a detached sort of recklessness made the bottom of his stomach twist up and he stood his ground.

Malcolm seemed to overcome his slight moment of surprise, and his lip curled into an ugly grimace.

“See they’ve let you out of that asylum or whatever it is for the summer,” he snorted. “They must pay Dud’s parents to take you back when they get sick of you, I reckon.”

Harry crossed his arms and leant into the sliver of shade against the brick of the alleyway. “Nah, I broke out. All that jelly gets boring after a while.”

Malcolm scrunched his eyebrows together as though tempted to take Harry seriously (Dudley’s gang never were very bright) but seemed to decide that Harry hadn’t really broken out of St. Brutus’s Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys to escape the injustice of soft foods. He narrowed his eyes. “Where’s Dudley, anyway – you get him in trouble for something?”

Harry might have been surprised at the change of subject under different circumstances. Now he tilted his head, vaguely interested. “Why?”

Malcolm shrugged. Another look of confusion passed over his face.

Perhaps the strain of having to carry on a conversation, Harry lamented privately.

“Haven’t seen him since school.”

Harry supposed, thinking on it, that he hadn’t seen much of Dudley either and wondered briefly why he wasn’t out terrorizing the neighborhood with his friends.

Then again, this was the first time Harry had got out of bed in two weeks. He hadn’t seen much of anyone.

“Dunno,” Harry said finally. Ignoring the voice that told him he should probably shut his mouth, he couldn’t resist adding on, “I suppose congratulations are in order.”

Malcolm blinked at him, frowning stupidly. “What for?”

“I don’t know how you’ve managed it, but you look even more like a hulking ape than you did last year.”

Malcolm’s eyebrows drew even lower, and he took a step toward Harry, cracking his knuckles menacingly.

Harry smirked, shaking his head in mock-concern. “The circus have to pay your parents to take you back?”

“Shut up!” Malcolm shouted, still advancing, grinding his fist furiously into his palm.

Harry stayed where he was. His wand sat in the back pocket of his jeans, but he made no move to grab it.

“You always were the slowest of the lot, Malcolm. Dudley only kept you around because he fancied your sister, he always said so— ”

Harry stood motionless and watched Malcolm’s fist come swinging toward his face. His brain lit up with pain and bursting stars as Malcolm’s knuckles plowed into his cheekbone with enough force to send him sprawling on the gravel, narrowly missing a collection of dustbins.

Harry’s head spun, the sky above him seeming to swirl in on itself, and he blinked once, twice, sucking in air through his nose. He put a hand to his cheek on instinct and rolled over to get up, his palm digging into the sharp points of the gravel.

A vicious kick connected with his ribs as Malcolm stalked past, and then Dudley’s friend was stomping down the alleyway and out of sight.

Harry collapsed onto his back again with a wheezing huff, clutching his throbbing side in the partial shade of the brick wall beside him. The sun fell over the side of his face, half-blinding him, and he wondered vaguely if any of the neighbors had been watching from their windows.

He felt unexpectedly like laughing and wondered if he was losing his mind.

---

The bare hint of a cooling breeze lifted Harry’s fringe where he sat slumped on the park bench.

The sun beat down from the very center of the sky now, baking his skin and heating the metal of the bench against his legs. Sweat clung to the back of his neck, made his t-shirt feel sticky and constricting. He was deciding whether he felt like getting up at all when someone else came around the end of the bench.

Harry glanced over, fingers twitching toward his concealed wand, as Remus Lupin settled into the seat next to him.

A little jolt of surprise shot through him, and Harry sat up a bit straighter without thinking, eyebrows scrunching up. He was abruptly self-conscious and highly aware of his hair he hadn’t bothered to comb and the wrinkled shirt he’d fished out of his trunk – he was only grateful he had got up the energy to shower and give his teeth a rudimentary cleaning before leaving the house.

Lupin folded his hands in his lap. “Hello, Harry,” he said, smiling gently.

He appeared to have gained a few more lines on his face since they had last met. Harry thought he looked tired. Very tired.

“Hi...” Harry relaxed back onto the bench as his surprise faded, for the most part. The sight of Lupin sitting in the middle of Little Whinging’s play park still struck him as slightly odd. “I’m still being tailed, then, I suppose,” he added dully.

Lupin’s lips quirked apologetically, but he didn’t respond. He leaned forward, taking in Harry’s appearance more fully. His smile slipped and his face hardened, a steely glint entering his eyes.

“Who did that to you?”

It took Harry several moments to realize Lupin was staring at the bruise blooming over the side of his face.

Harry’s throat convulsed, and he looked out over the park again. “Doesn’t matter. It’ll go away.”

Lupin’s eyes did not leave his face.

“Did you get into a fight with your cousin?”

“No.”

There was a pause, and Lupin’s voice took on an edge.

“Was it your uncle?”

Harry glanced at Remus, frowning. “No.”

Not this time. I haven’t been stupid enough to give him the chance in years.

He didn’t say it, but he wondered secretly what Lupin would do if he did.

“I ran into a kid I used to know at primary school. We never liked each other much,” Harry mumbled vaguely.

Lupin didn’t speak, and Harry got the impression he was waiting for him to continue.

Harry went on, shrugging. “Wasn’t fast enough, I guess.”

Lupin ‘hmmed’ noncommittally. “I’m afraid I have a difficult time believing that.”

He reached out carefully and pulled Harry’s chin to the side to examine his cheek. Harry warily (and he hoped not unkindly) moved his face out of Lupin’s grip.

Next to him, a sigh sounded so quietly Harry almost missed it.

“Will you let me heal it for you?”

Harry glanced at Lupin again, uncertain. His shoulders crept an inch toward his ears, and he shoved his hands in the pockets of his too-big jeans. He nodded, just once.

Lupin took out his wand. Harry couldn’t help a slight flinch at having a wand pointed at his face, but he let his old professor place the tip against his cheekbone. Lupin muttered a spell under his breath. Immediately, Harry felt the swelling go down and the ache recede.

Lupin drew away again. “Anywhere else?”

Harry knew his side must have had a fairly good bruise by now from the feel of it. He shook his head, staring at the ground.

Lupin stowed his wand and they sat quietly another few moments. A tall woman holding the hand of a little blonde girl wandered onto the playground, and Harry and Lupin both watched as she pushed her daughter back and forth on the swings.

“How are you?”

Harry shrugged one shoulder. “Fine.”

Lupin hummed again and bent forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m glad to see you out of the house, at any rate. Kingsley and Tonks were beginning to think you had expired of sheer boredom.” He smiled a little, glancing at Harry.

Harry huffed.

“If you’d like,” Lupin suggested, “we could find a place to get some lunch.”

Something strangely like hope flitted through Harry’s gut as he turned his head abruptly to survey Lupin. “Isn’t that…against the rules, or something? I’m not supposed to leave Little Whinging.”

Lupin’s hands made a vague, unconcerned gesture before settling one atop the other again. “We won’t go far. And as a member of the Order, I don’t think anyone will raise a fuss.” The corner of his mouth pulled down as his gaze swept over Harry once again. “I’ll spare you what I know Molly would say if she were here, Harry, but I would appreciate it if you could humor me and try to eat something.”

Harry swallowed. He wasn’t particularly hungry but he most certainly wasn’t about to say no to escaping Privet Drive, if only for an hour or two. “Alright.”

Lupin nodded and ran his palms across his knees lightly, seeming satisfied, and stood from the bench. After only a second’s hesitation, Harry followed suit. Lupin led them through the park gate and strode a little ways down the street into an abandoned space between two of the identical houses. (Not unlike the one Harry had been laid out in not five hours earlier.)

Lupin came to a stop in the direct center of the narrow space and held out his arm. “Of course, I apologize, you haven’t done this before – I’m going to Apparate us both,” he explained at Harry’s questioning look. “Side-Along Apparition. You only need to take my arm.”

Harry grasped Lupin’s shabby sleeve, feeling oddly as though he were doing something he oughtn’t, but was almost immediately moved by a peculiar sense of…security that he couldn’t quite explain.

“Hold on,” said Lupin, and then Harry’s grip tightened as the arm he was holding twisted away from him, and he was being squeezed impossibly smaller and smaller through crushing space.

---

Lupin Apparated them directly behind a little shop Harry had been to a few times on outings around town with Dudley and Aunt Petunia (on the occasions she hadn’t been able to wrangle anybody into babysitting him so she could be alone with her son) and inside ordered them a couple of sandwiches.

Harry tried to offer to pay, but Remus just shook his head and gestured for Harry to put his money back in his pocket.

They sat on plastic chairs tucked away at a small table in the corner of the shop to eat.

Lupin surveyed him over the top of his sandwich. “You know, you haven’t checked if I’m a Death Eater in disguise.”

His face didn’t so much as twitch, but Harry heard the just-this-side of playful undercurrent in his tone and he fought not to grin around his chicken sandwich.

Swallowing, he deadpanned, “Who lured me out of safety to buy me lunch?”

Remus shrugged and took a sip of his fizzy drink. “You never know.” After a moment, his expression grew a touch more serious. “It is important to keep that in mind, however. I would like you to stay as safe as possible.”

Harry finished another bite, but all of a sudden there was a different sort of lump in his throat he couldn’t swallow as easily. “I know. Sorry…” He considered for a second. “What did you help us repair at Grimmauld Place last summer?”

“Ah – that would have been a very badly behaved grandfather clock, I believe.”

Remus gave another small smile, as though the memory were a fond one, and Harry returned it. He went back to the sandwich that had decidedly not been bought for him by an undercover minion of a dark wizard intent on murdering him, that strange hope-like sensation flickering inside him again.

Harry managed to make it through half his meal and a whole glass of water. It sat heavy and uncomfortable in his stomach, but Remus looked marginally less concerned, perhaps even a bit pleased, and Harry found he didn’t mind so much.

---

Harry paused outside the door of number four, dragging out every last second he possibly could before having to go back inside.

“Thanks for lunch, and…” Harry shifted his weight awkwardly from foot to foot and waved his hand about. “You know, everything.”

Remus’ eyes skimmed over Harry’s healed cheekbone. “Of course. We’ll be able to take you away soon, Harry, I promise. You will let someone know, please, if you need anything?”

Harry nodded automatically, and he almost turned to reach for the doorknob when he stopped.

His side was still aching. It might not be such a bad thing, he thought, if he didn’t have to toss and turn in pain tonight. Remus wouldn’t mind…he had offered, earlier…

“I— ” Harry hesitated, fingers opening and closing at his side. “There is somewhere else,” he finally said, quietly. “If – I’m sorry…” He scratched nervously at the seam of his jeans.

Remus frowned in apparent confusion at the non sequitur, brow wrinkling in concern, but seemed to realize Harry’s meaning a moment later, and his expression shifted to something almost sorrowful. Harry glanced away. Making sure no one was around, Remus pulled out his wand again.

Harry lifted the hem of his shirt and chanced a peek. There was a splotchy green-blue bruise marking up his left side along his bottom three ribs.

Remus steadied Harry with a gentle hand on his shoulder and muttered the same spell he had used to mend Harry’s face. The bruise dissolved into pale skin once again.

Harry dropped his shirt. “Thanks,” he mumbled, staring at the front door of the Dursleys’ house.

Remus gave Harry’s shoulder a gentle, almost-indiscernible squeeze before it fell away. “Thank you for telling me.”

Harry nodded anxiously and then did reach for the doorknob.

“We’ll see you soon, Harry.”

Harry nodded again, silently, and stepped inside, turning at the last second to watch Remus make his way down the path. He stood there until Remus disappeared around the corner and shut the door quietly behind him.

Harry climbed slowly up the stairs and into his cluttered bedroom, where the curtains were drawn tight and mess littered every corner. His eyes fell on his bed, and he was tempted to lie back down and stare at the ceiling like he’d been doing every day since returning to Privet Drive. But – perhaps it was the food in his belly, or the fact that he had finally got some fresh air – for the first time in weeks he felt up to attempting some of the holiday homework that had been sitting in his trunk untouched.

Harry dug out his Defence Against the Dark Arts text, snatched up a quill and roll of parchment, and settled at his desk to begin.

#harry potter #fanfiction #rec #remus lupin #privet drive #heart to heart

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isidar-mithrim · 4 years ago

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Ohh I loved this, what a treat! It says a lot about their relationship that this two quite private and reserved characters are willing to share their difficulties with each other! And that Harry is “sponsoring” going to a mind healer, I mean I know he’s practically ancient now, but still, what a growth <3

And then there’s Ginny and her hand caressing Harry under the table and flirting with him under the sheets as if they were still in those fresh, sunlit days <3

And speaking of sunlit days, I always love those little nod to canon like “greatest source of comfort” and “silver lining” ;)

And it was lovely to read more about James’s “memory” journey, about the hard work he’s putting into recovery – I never felt like there was the need to fill the gap between the last two chapter of WFTT, and I stand by it, but it was still wonderful to see how well he’s doing, while not being at his best yet (and to see how much his family loves him!)

And of course, we all very much needed to read the time(s) Al tried to convince James he had promised him a car ;)

And on top of that, they’re a big happy family in vacation in Italy! What can we possible want more? ^^

Hi Flo! I feel like one of the sign of a very good story is when you're left wondering about it and daydreaming little, random missing scenes, and of course I find myself imagining missing moments of WFTT ^^ As such, if you're up to it I'd love to know a little more about Harry and Hazel relationship in the future, considering he's not her boss anymore, there's all this trauma they went through (and I'm sure it required a huge team effort to help James, as you showed!), she's the first and only "added" woman to the Potter family (considering Victoire is family already), and of course she's the mother of Harry's beloved grandchildren!

I especially found myself imagining little scenes with Hazel pregnant or with the kids very little ^^ Please tell me that Harry teared up when they told him they were expecting a baby XD

Also, I really hope James remembers the time Hazel accidentally pinched Harry's bum, and that he loves to remind her about it ;)

Thank you so much Isi! This is so so wonderful to hear, I'm delighted that people daydream and think about my characters! I actually have a deleted scene - or what was the beginnings of a chapter I decided not to use because I couldn't get the tone quite right, among a few other considerations/things I wasn't happy with, hence a few abrupt scene changes and the lack of ending. I hope you enjoy it anyway?

For everyone else - this is not me returning to prompts, this is a roughly tidied up deleted scene. There may be more in the future but I'm not writing in response to prompts or suggestions, it just happened that Isi mentioned a few things that reminded me of some writing I had floating around in an old doc.

It had been just a couple of months shy of a year, and golden evening light was falling upon a hamlet perched upon a high hill, surrounded by a patchwork of rolling vineyards, olive groves and forests, dotted with stone farm houses. Narrow streets slipped between tall buildings with terracotta tiles, ancient looking wooden doors and just the right amount of elegant disrepair, with baskets of flowers hanging over the window sills and balconies. It was the kind of place that oozed laziness, that demanded leisurely meals and long evenings, gentle easy conversations and quiet.

This might have been the case, if it were not for the large and noisy family, eating at a long table beneath a vine covered pergola, roaring with laughter.

‘You did,’ Al was insisting, ‘you did say that. A really flashy one, with nice leather seats.’

‘Right, yeah, sounds like me,’ said James dryly.

‘I can’t believe you don’t remember - you said, “Al, to make up for being such a prat my whole life, I’m going to”-’

‘I absolutely did not promise to buy you a car.’

‘He did, didn’t he, Dora?’ said Al, looking down at his niece, who was frowning suspiciously between the two. ‘You remember.’

‘Erm…’

Albus winked at her, and she grinned mischievously, though seemed too kind to outright lie to her godfather. James leaned across the table to look her directly in the eyes. ‘Your uncle Al is a liar, isn’t he, Dot?’

‘I don’t know…’ she said. ‘You do forget a lot of things, Uncle Jim.’

There was renewed laughter, and James grinned and raised his eyebrows. ‘Do I?’

‘Yes…’ She looked hesitantly towards her mother. ‘But you’re getting better, Mummy says.’

‘Much better!’ he said bracingly. ‘Go on, test me.’

‘Do you… Do you remember how old I am?’

‘Course I do, you’re three.’

‘No, I’m not!’

‘Pretty sure you are. Look at you, you’re tiny.’

‘I’m not three!’

‘Yeeees you are! Test me again!’

Harry laughed as he watched them, and like the others he threw out occasional easy or joking tests himself. He felt warm. The air was fragrant, the meal had been devoured. Lily had loudly and furiously shouted at him for having red wine, to the amusement of the others and his own secret pride. Beside him, Ginny lovingly caressed his hand under the table. He had worried that the new place, so different to Godric’s Hollow or Devon, would confuse things, would set them back all the progress they had made. And yes, a few times he had spotted his son frowning, clearly thinking hard, but so far, a few days in, James had continued to astound him, continued to work hard, continued to bring him the same joy and overflowing love that he had since the day he had been born.

The evening drew in with a slight but welcome chill, and moths started to dance around the lanterns on the table. Soon, it was the children’s bedtime, though the rest of them stayed up longer, their feet and very bones ached so much from their hike through the Tuscan hills and woods that day, that there were soon murmurs that they were going to bed too. They retired back inside to the large house that they had rented for the week, shouting their goodnights.

‘Early start tomorrow!’ Harry reminded them all at a bellow. ‘Lots of queuing to do to go and look at some paintings-’

There were loud, exaggerated groans from throughout the house as they all plodded to their rooms, except for Lily, the one who had chosen the next day’s activity, who whooped.

‘He seemed all right today, didn’t he?’ whispered Ginny as they got into bed. ‘Seemed pretty clued up. I mean - I did have to remind him where we were this morning, and there was that moment when Ted spotted him wandering off, but after that, he did so well-’

‘I thought so,’ Harry agreed. ‘He came up to me on the walk and started talking about plans for the wedding.’

‘No prompting?’

‘None at all.’

‘What was he talking about?’

‘Oh, God,’ he said despairingly, lying back and grinning, ‘the invite list, he was pretending he was going to invite Dawlish.’

‘He wouldn’t, not even for a joke.’

‘It’s all right, I acted enthusiastically about it until he cottoned on and got bored.’

She kissed him, running her hand over his chest. ‘He’s really starting to be himself again,’ she said. ‘I knew this holiday would be all right - I told you that you were worrying over nothing.’

‘You did.’

‘I was right, wasn’t I?’

‘You always are,’ he said admiringly.

‘I think I promised you that we would have the kind of holiday that we always have, that things would hardly be different…’

‘I think you did, too…’

The sheets were thin and cool against their bodies, their clothes pulled off with well practiced swiftness, he held his wife in close embrace, and he felt himself washed in that happiness. She was softer and curvier than she had been when they were young; he loved to run his hands across her, loved to sink his fingertips into the depths of her hips, feel the cushion of her breasts against his chest, hear her murmur his name in his ear. They knew each other so well now, but the familiarity had never felt boring. She remained his greatest source of comfort, his blazing, beautiful, silver lining.

'Ssh - Harry - the kids -'

'Charm,' he muttered against her collar bone.

He heard her breathless, whispering giggle. 'Dropped my wand - just stay quiet-'

'You stay quiet,' he retorted with a grin, and a new challenge was born, their hands reaching to playfully close over one another's mouths when a giggle or groan escaped.

Afterwards, he dropped into sleep, the ceiling fan whooshing above them, the night peaceful and still.

‘Harry - I think someone’s up in the living room.’

The whisper woke him, and then came the soft yellow glow of the bedside lamp, illuminating Ginny’s worried face, staring at the door. ‘I thought it was someone getting water, but there’s been noises from the living room for ages.’

‘Probably one of the kids,’ he said, though that old paranoia was rising in both of them, and he drew his wand out from beneath his pillow. On the bedside table, the clock showed that it was gone three in the morning. ‘I’ll check.’

‘I’ll-’

‘No, you stay here - if I shout, get the girls out first.’

He grabbed his discarded pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt from the floor and hastily dressed, then, with a grim look to Ginny, left the bedroom. Now that he was out in the high ceilinged hall, he could hear what Ginny had been talking about - a sort of clattering echoing up the staircase. Quiet, but constant movement. He crept silently down the stairs and to the door which led to the large, airy living room.

He could hear heavy breathing, and rapid footsteps. Gripping his wand tightly, he paused at the door and listened, before throwing it open.

Hazel gave a slight gasp, and he threw up a shield charm as a jet of red came towards him.

‘Oh my God, I’m sorry-’

‘It’s all right,’ he said soothingly, lowering his wand. She looked a little frantic, her pyjamas damp with sweat, her hair mussed as though she had been gripping it, and the furniture was a little knocked aside; she had been pacing, he realised. ‘Are you OK?’

‘Fine,’ she blurted out. ‘Fine - I’m fine - sorry-’

‘Do you want some water?’ he asked calmly.

She nodded rapidly, and he sat her down on the sofa as he conjured up a glass for her. As she drank it, she seemed to steady herself, and she nodded as her breathing slowed, and the vice like grip on her wand slackened.

‘Please don’t tell Auror Hodges,’ she blurted out.

‘I’m not your boss anymore,’ he said gently. ‘What happened?’

‘Nothing, I…’ she shook her head helplessly. ‘I don’t know, just out of nowhere…’

‘You weren’t asleep? Bad dream?’

‘I… maybe I was, I just…’ She looked down at her legs. ‘I just had this awful cramp, in my legs, it woke me up…’

‘It reminded you of it,’ he said quietly. She nodded, a dusky pink colouring her cheeks.

‘It passed really quickly, it’s stupid - maybe I imagined it-’

‘We did a lot of walking today, I’m sure you didn’t.’

There was a slight noise behind them; he glanced over his shoulder to see Ginny at the door, and held up his hand to reassure here it was all right. She gave a brief nod, and left. Turning back to Hazel, he could see that she was still a little panicked, trembling, her eyes darting around but hardly seeming to see.

‘Sorry,’ she was saying quickly. ‘Sorry, it’s just, the room we’re in - it’s nice, I’m not complaining, I just - when I woke up with the cramping I felt like it was small, the walls were too close so I came in here, I’m sorry I woke you both-’

‘You felt trapped, it’s OK,’ he said, and he pointed his wand at the windows. They opened, and a cool breeze came through.

Hazel audibly sighed, and stared at them for a few moments. ‘Please don’t tell Auror Hodges,’ she said again quietly. ‘I really don’t want to have to have time off-’

‘I think you’re still OK to work,’ he said. ‘I was the same after the war, better to focus on things than sit at home and brood - but you’re still seeing the Mind Healer, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, of course-’

‘Well then. This is fine - to be expected.’

She nodded, and rubbed her hands hard over face and eyes. ‘Is it? When you’re otherwise having a nice time?’

‘It is. I still get moments even now - you must have seen my hand trembling before.’

She gaped at him. ‘That’s because…?’

He nodded, and looked at his wand hand, though at that moment it stayed perfectly still and relaxed. ‘That and constantly rubbing my scar like a… tic.’ He paused. ‘It used to hurt a lot, and sometimes I still think I can feel it burning, but I can’t. It’s just… unwanted memories.’

‘Things last,’ she said vaguely. ‘They attach themselves to the strangest details.’

‘They do,’ he agreed. ‘But we live around them.’

#harry potter #jazel #james sirius potter #hazel duarte #wood for the trees #floreatcastellum #fic #fanfiction #ginny weasley #hinny

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