#riddlesprompt

[bloodmoon-rising]

Regulus & Remus || The Devil Always Cheats

Date: August 28, 1978 Location: St. Thomas’ Hospital, London

@regulusblack-sonandheir

He guides his hand purposely and caresses the frailty of his form, and his body responds with a quiver, a chill. Eyes close and he grasps for someone warm. There’s a wrenching and churning in his gut. A sober mind, and a hollow soul. Why does he precede so desperately? Why does he acknowledge this as his role?

The crevices on the bottoms of his boots were caked thick with a remarkably bright substance for something so dark. It was absurd, really, walking through a Muggle hospital that he’d been in and out of once or twice on his own as a child when his mother didn’t quite trust magical cures for magical accidents. He had the scars on both his knees to prove that stitches didn’t heal as well, and gosh, were those cuts deep.

Now, he visited St. Thomas’s for another, far more cynical reason. Wand in hand, he turned the corner.

Remus heard the screams before he saw what was happening. A woman laid flat on a gurney in the middle of the hallway, her white dressing gown splattered red like a firetruck, and she screamed her head off. Remus did not hesitate, his feet shooting him forward, sliding on blood as he advanced to her rescue.

“Ma’am, what’s happened?” he called. “Where are you hurt?” Her brimming eyes were wide as saucers, pupils dilated so big he had chills. Remus reached out tenderly but he knew he’d made a mistake the instant his fingers touched her oozing arm. Fingers sunk into pliable flesh, instantly coating red, and she shook her head imperceptibly.

Behind him there was a shift in the air; not necessarily a noise or but a definitive shift and Remus spun, finding himself face to face with one if the Masked Ones. His wand shot up automatically to defend himself, willing to curse with intent to kill if it came down to it.

“Don’t. Fucking. Move. If you value your life, don’t fucking move!”

[bloodmoon-rising]

Remus & Marlene || Of All The Things That Might Have Been

Date: June 25, 1978 Location: The Hogs Head Inn Inspiration: Fire It Up- Modest Mouse

The table beneath calloused fingers and palms rough from overuse felt as hard as wax. Soft as wax. Slick and sticky as wax. The man behind the bar’s face was worn, melted like w a x . Skin dripping, dripping and stretched. Old and worn having seen too much or maybe not enough. Maybe all he’d ever seen was in the inside of this godforsaken pub, watching one too many people drink themselves to an early grave. Maybe Remus was just another on the list of those that’d be dead before their bodies ripened. 

He was uncomfortable and he did what anyone would do; he averted his eyes to stare at dirty fingernails and calloused fingers and rough palms, patiently waiting for Marlene before ordering.

Remus was eighteen- eighteen fucking years old!- and on the cusp of a lifetime of failure because of so many reasons but tonight that hardly mattered. It was Minerva and Amelia, Lily and Marlene. These four, incredibly talented, brilliant women that he was so lucky to be assigned with for important duties of war. And the fate of his dear, lovely friends, Alice and Frank, rested in their hands. Talk about p r e s s u r e .

A distant ring of a bell strategically placed against the thick door had Remus’s head craning to get a look. 

“Oh thank Merlin,” he muttered to himself, watching as the bright-eyed Marlene McKinnon make her way into the pub. Remus stood and gestured her over, recognizing how dark the murky pub appeared when first entering from the outside. 

“Christ almighty,” Remus said in a hurried whisper as she approached, “the bar keep isn’t happy and it’s making me horribly uncomfortable. Gods. Anyway, how’d it go getting here? You fairing okay?” 

This whole mission felt secret and dangerous and it was impossibly exciting. Remus just hoped they wouldn’t fail his friends.

[casually-furious-blog]

Shot of vodka

Shot of vodka:  Send a shot of vodka for my muse to mistake yours for someone they’re friends with.

Lucinda was in the bookstore, looking for more Mermish books when she saw a familiar figure in the back.  Smiling, Lucinda excitedly crept through the stacks towards Helena.  She hadn’t seen her since the summer started.  During the school year, Lucinda and Helena were guaranteed to run into each other at least once a week in the library, and they always had good debates and discussions. Helena was in Ravenclaw, but she was a Pureblood, making it acceptable for Lucinda to be seen with her. 

“In the self-help section?” Lucinda snorted. “This is stopping low, even for you.”

But as the person turned, Lucinda’s mouth fell open, and her face went instantly red.  

“Oh Merlin, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry!” Lucinda said, holding her hands up in supplication for forgiveness. “I thought you were someone else, I’m sorry!” she said again, backing away quickly. 

She knocked her elbow on a shelf and almost tripped over a pile of books, but she didn’t care. She was trying to beat as hasty a retreat as her feet would allow, all while apologizing profusely to the woman still standing by the bookshelf.  

“Sorry!” she cried one last time before getting out of the store. She breathed a sigh of relief, though she could still feel her face burning from mortification. 

“For fuck’s sake, you stupid–” Lucinda cussed herself all the way to Hogsmeade to get a drink and make herself feel better.