doggo: (05)
serious bloke ([personal profile] doggo) wrote in [community profile] station72 2016-10-13 03:38 am (UTC)

Don't.

[Wrenched out, more seething than pleading, strained under the pressure of pity and memory and an anger that doesn't burn like he knows. Fissures in stone dead calm. Sirius never thought of explaining, to Remus, because he had never thought that far ahead. The Prophet plastered flat on damp rock. Time catching up, twelve years, Hogwarts, a street full of muggles and a single finger, and it's at first James that he's thinking of, or it's Remus thinking of James, it's all tangled the way loose socks wrap around themselves in your trunk unless they're bundled together, properly, a hopelessly mundane thought that crashes in with the rest of it. Sirius' hand is trembling when he presses his fingertips against his forehead.

Harry occurs to him a moment later. Harry. Not James. His focus snaps back in, a quick study of Remus' face. New lines, old scars, some he could name the way he can name constellations even now.]


You've seen him.

[Harry. Something fights hard against Sirius' chest, presses hot. Again, louder, as he struggles to push himself up:]

You've seen him. You know him.

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