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03 April 2010 @ 09:29 pm
Meme: Fanfiction WIPS  

"Post a paragraph or a scene from as many of your fics or WIPS as you want, with no explanation attached."

Cool, I'm game! (Meme taken from paulamcg )


After a time, they began to believe that the attack was over, which did nothing for Lucretia's state since they still heard nothing from her parents. Just as everyone was beginning to breathe easy, though, reports came of continued bombing of the capital city. Lucretia began to sob harder.


With a sigh, Walburga looked around at her family. It was Orion and Cygnus' first year, and for which Walburga was greatful; as far as she was concerned, Hogwarts was the safest place they could possibly be, nevermind that if he had been born one year later Orion would currently be in their London home. Alphard, only a year younger than Walburga and Lucretia, sat licking his lips nervously. All three boys were silent. Walburga stroked Lucretia's dark hair, not entirely sure what to say.


No one approached them. It was the general consensus that it was best to leave Blacks to their own devices on occasions such as this. No one would know what to say anyway. After a while, Lucretia fell silent as she cried herself to sleep, still clinging to her cousin, who never once stopped petting her hair. The fire began to die, and it got darker and quieter as people began falling asleep. After a while, the only sounds were that of the flames and the newscaster over the radio.


Sirius scoffed before Regulus had a chance to answer. “The Slytherin team is pants.”


“Last year,” Regulus snapped, his face darkening. He turned to Alphard. “The captain we had was more interested in getting on the good side of people who were socially important. But he was a seventh year, along with half the rest of them.”


Alphard shrugged. “Eh, it's our failing as Slytherins,” he said, grinning. “We have a tendency to look for merit where it may not be appropriate. But you aren't on the team, are you?”


There was a slight pause before Regulus answered quite simply, “No.”


Sirius didn't have anything now. Regulus was sure that since his brother was adopted as it were, the Potters were giving Sirius pocket money, but it couldn't be much. Sirius was a spendthrift when he had money to burn, and old habits could be hard to break.


Despite all this, Regulus was stumped.


There was a day last January when, walking between classes, Regulus looked out a window and saw the two of them, Sirius and Lupin, out playing on the lake. They were peering down, trying to see something through the thick ice. When they stood, Lupin slipped and Sirius caught him, and they stayed like that a moment longer than a pair of friends might have.


It's past midnight, and I'm laying on the sofa in Remus' house. He offered to let me have the bed—with or without him there—and I didn't want to just take it. The clock chimes, and I think of Remus being upstairs in the bed, and I suddenly realize how lonely I am.


I just don't get it,” the girl was saying. James was a little embarrassed that their companion's name was lost to him. “He just looks like we're so putrid.” It wasn't hard to guess what she was talking about. “He's just so...”


“Cold?” James supplied.


“Pompous?” was Sirius' input.


...Dainty...” Everyone turned to look at Remus, who looked slightly embarrassed. “What? He is.”


Sirius was shaking his head, looking torn between being bewildered and amused. “I have never heard him described like that before.”


Well...he's all...small and...y'know...everything he does is just so light,” Remus tried to explain. “Even the way he walks. And he's got those pretty little hands...”


“...Pretty little hands?”


They're all soft and white and manicured-looking. Just because I think a boy has nice hands does not make me gay,” Remus snapped.


James eyebrows shot up. He felt like laughing. Sirius already was laughing, although at something completely different. Sirius leaned forward to whisper, and James leaned forward too. Somehow everyone else managed to get blocked out.


I'll tell you a secret,” he said. “They are manicured.”


Don't be daft,” he snapped. “Even if it wasn't normal to want to write to family, when have I ever given a flying f--” he paused at the look on his mother's face. “--finger what people thought of me? Just don't let it get too quiet at home. Got to keep Mother and Father on their toes.”


Regulus relaxed at Sirius' smile. He had a way of disarming people with it. Regulus thought that if he was ever to admire anyone, which he didn't—Blacks didn't admire anyone—it would be Sirius. They were both very clever, but Sirius was better looking and more comfortable with himself. Too often someone would say how much better his brother was, as if they didn't know that Regulus could understand what they were saying. It was one thing for your parents to tell you how wonderful you are,