okay look, sometimes you just need to crank out some angst in 30 minutes and post it even though you’ve already posted two fics in a day. it just. it be like that sometimes
(also please just ignore all inevitable errors it’s literally 7 in the morning and i haven’t slept yet and i just CRANKED IT OUt okAy)
kids with guns.
They were only kids.
Straight out of Hogwarts, forced to fight a war much bigger than they could imagine. It was surreal, watching how they grew from rebellious teenagers to grown adult in the span of a few weeks.
That was all Remus could think about as spell after spell shot past him. It occupied his brain as he tried to come up with spells to defend himself, spells to defeat the enemy. He tried to stay calm, to think logically and hope that this would all be over soon enough, but he couldn’t. All he could think about was that he was a kid. He was eighteen years old, fighting a war older than himself, fighting a war that witches and wizards five times his age hadn’t even gotten close to beat.
He was eighteen years old, watching as his best friends gave up on the pranking and the jokes, and suddenly became harsh and serious and shooting spells and Remus wondered how they could do it. He couldn’t keep a clear head for the life of him (quite literally, he thought bitterly) while James and Sirius duelled as if they were born to do exactly that and Remus couldn’t help but to wonder what the fuck had happened to them. What had happened to the bark-like laughs and the bottles of Firewhiskey and the comfort? When did it all get replaced with seriousness, when did every day suddenly become a life or death situation? When did they lose their lives and became soldiers in something they didn’t even want to take part in?
Sirius had come into their flat the other day, a pair of scissors in hand and his hair up in a ponytail. “Cut if off,” he’d said, handing the scissors to Remus. “I can’t keep it long. Just. Get rid of it.” And Remus cut it off, short and slightly uneven, and all he could think was What is happening to us? What happened to you, Padfoot? When did we get so… Serious? as the snip of the scissors almost echoed in the bathroom. As the locks he loved so much fell down on his feet, all Remus could do was blink away the tears, take a deep breath and hope. Hope that it would all be over soon.
They were only kids and they were fighting a war and Remus wanted it all to just stop, he wanted to go back in time but he couldn’t and it scared the shit out of him. He was terrified. Terrified as a jet of red swirled past him, eagerly replaced with green. Terrified at the “Run!”s that seemed to slip out of his mouth more naturally than a “Hello.” Terrified that he’d wake up tomorrow and everything would be gone. James and Lily, Peter, Sirius. Sirius.
Remus couldn’t stand the thought of losing Sirius. He couldn’t imagine a life without him and it was terrifying that he might had to start thinking about it. What he’d do when he wasn’t waking up next to his boyfriend, what he’d do when he wasn’t living, seeing, breathing, with him. Sirius was his rock, as chaotic and extravagant he was, he held Remus together. A reassuring glance as Remus shouted “STUPEFY!”, arms wrapped around his waist as he laughed for the first time in days, gentle fingers tucking hair behind his ears. Steadying, reassuring, stable, safe. Remus couldn’t think about a life without Sirius. Yet he had to.
Kids, eighteen years old, terrified that his boyfriend would drop dead at any moment. Kids, considering getting married right this second because they never knew when their last day was. Kids, defending themselves, their whole world, holding it up with their bare hands and they were slipping, slipping and they were kids and they couldn’t save everyone but they had to.
Kids, holding the wizarding equivalent of a gun, waiting, waiting to fire, waiting for the outburst, waiting to slip away.
Kids with guns, watching as their world was slipping and slipping and they couldn’t do anything. They could only live with it.
