…My head is full of whispers which tomorrow will be silent…
Adrienne Rich, excerpt from The Trees. (via wnq-writers)
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@its-remus
…My head is full of whispers which tomorrow will be silent…
Adrienne Rich, excerpt from The Trees. (via wnq-writers)
sriusblvcks:
Remus’ terse greeting immediately caught Sirius’ attention, despite only having woken up ten minutes ago. Of course, he’s set his priorities straight: he had a mug of hot coffee in one hand as he puttered around the kitchen, looking for a spoon to stir his drink. Sirius’ hair was all over the place, and he was still donning his pyjamas when Remus had returned.
His head pokes out of the kitchen, the curiosity on his face morphing into worry upon seeing Remus’ tense posture. “What is it?” He didn’t give Remus time to respond, though, because Sirius was already making his way towards the werewolf, his frown deepening at the newspaper in his hand, peering over it.
Mass breakout. Death Eaters at large. Feeling his stomach lurch as he perused the article, Sirius let out a shaky breath, feeling more awake than he had been these past few minutes. “Bloody hell.” He said finally, the gravity of the situation dawning on him. “Merlin, this is a right mess,” he mumbled mostly to himself, taking a sip of his coffee to ground himself, but he can’t seem to stop reading the title over and over again. “Well, this certainly isn’t a great way to start the morning. Heard anything from the others?”
Remus took a step towards the other wizard, leaning in his direction as the other man read over his shoulder. Glancing to his side, his eyes traced over his friend’s expression, watching with interest as he glanced over the dark words. He shook his head, reaching up and running a hand through his hair. He didn’t have to wonder what would be going through the other man’s mind.
“I haven’t yet—” He handed the other man the copy of the Prophet, walking towards the kitchen as he spoke. “I came here first.” Moving towards the pot of coffee, he picked up his empty mug from where it sat on the counter.
“I’m guessing Dumbledore will be holding a meting soon.” The werewolf continued, his hands absentmindedly tracing over the ceramic handle. “I don’t know how it happened. No one-” He exhaled, his breath uneven. “No one has been able to break out of Azkaban before." He filled his mug with coffee and took a deep sip, looking for a distraction as he finally turned back around to face his friend. “If they’ve been able to do it once, what’s stopping them from doing it again?”
*grabs your hand* no… WE’RE back on our bullshit
@its-remus
Dated: August 9th, 1985 Location: London; Remus and Sirius’ flat @sriusblvcks
Remus apparated with a crack, the noise echoing down the hall in the narrow entrance to their flat. He waved his hand to remove the protection charm at the door before twisting the handle and pushing it open.
"Padfoot-” Remus called, shutting the door behind him. His shoulders were stiff, voice earnest as he continued. “Sirius, you need to see this.”
The werewolf’s knuckles were white where he grasped onto a copy of the Daily Prophet. He hadn’t heard the report that was streaming on the Wizard Wireless Network earlier that morning, instead glancing at the headline on his way to the store. All thoughts of groceries and the breakfast he had planned to make for the pair disappeared from his mind as soon as his eyes had scanned the dark words staining the front page: Mass Breakout at Azkaban.
“There are at least seven.” He continued, the corners of his lips pulling into a frown as he read over the article. “Maybe more.” The werewolf recognized some of the names: a few of them, they had come to know more intimately over the years, having come to face to face with the figures in dark masks. He wondered how long it would be until Dumbledore reached out to the Order and called a meeting.
matthew hitt, twenty-five, cis male, he/his + i just saw remus lupin down at diagon alley. apparently they’re a bookseller these days, who knew? guess it makes sense, they were always pretty resilient & loyal. i wonder how their secretive & self-loathing behaviours have been treating them during the war. where do you suppose a half-blood like them stands, anyway? with the order of the phoenix, i bet. they always make me think of messy hair, ink-stains on fingertips, and bruised knuckles hanging onto the sleeve of a wool sweater.