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Jul. 20th, 2003 02:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
essayelHey, I've lost 10lbs!! I wasn't too impressed with that until I bought a 5 kilo bag of spuds and thought, "Heck, I've been wandering around with the best part of one of those attached to my arse!" Then it does get impressive. Oh but I'm in serious chocolate withdrawal!!! I'll just have to have sex more often instead!
People in my thoughts this week:
Kate because she's coping with a poorly husband and he is, apparently, not a good patient.
Also![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
innerslytherin because - well she knows why. Chin up, kid!
Although I started writing Roseblade's Challenge for Hogwarts Boudoir - and it should really be at lest an R to qualify there - it has settled firmly as a PG/PG13 because Jenny has decided that it is her story! I'll continue to post it there with a warning - fluff alert!
Remus would have been the first to admit that his home was not much to look at but he kept it clean and sound and, on the whole, was perfectly content with it. Long and low and painted white, it nestled into a fold in the hillside very much, as Sirius had said, like a bead of sweat into a cleavage. Not perhaps the most accurate metaphor but Remus rather liked it. There was one large room downstairs that served as both living room and kitchen, a tiny bathroom tucked into the small space under the stairs and another smallish room where Remus' now alphabetical books led a pampered existence that also doubled as a study. Upstairs, under the eaves, were two bedrooms where Remus could only stand up straight in the middle of the room and Sirius couldn't stand up straight at all. Not a bad retreat for two bachelors who for one reason or another needed to keep their heads down and out of sight. Not a good place, however, to host a large and, Remus suspected, raucous Christmas party. The fact that it was the second week of August and the weather was lovely was only one more problem.
Snape had given in, in the end. Dumbledore had pointed out that if Sirius became too depressed to be of any assistance he, Dumbledore, would be looking for somebody else to assume responsibility for Harry's emotional welfare and Remus would be far too busy on business for the Order to make himself available as and when required.
"The logical choice," the Headmaster had said with relish, "would be someone who is on the premises, as the Muggles say, 24/7. Professor McGonagall would be a possibility but I think that the time has come when Harry really needs a male role-model."
"Headmaster," Snape said hollowly, "you wouldn't!"
"I won't have to," Dumbledore agreed, "because you're going to make me the potions as I requested...aren't you, Severus!"
Snape had bowed his head in unwilling acquiescence and departed, snarling, for his laboratory.
And now, Remus mused, as he watched Sirius rebuilding the dry-stone wall at the bottom of the garden, we are about to taste the fruits of Snape's labours and they were likely to be very sour and wormy - he would have made sure of that!
Remus returned to the front of the house. Sirius would be an hour or so at least, because Remus had bribed his bottom of the garden fairies to kick the stones out of the wall as fast as they were replaced, and that gave him time to get everything ready.
He stooped in front of the kitchen fire and tossed in a good pinch of Floo powder. "Hogwarts, Headmasters Office," he said and a few moments later saw Dumbledore's disembodied head smiling at him from the flames.
"Ready when you are," Remus said.
It was only ten minutes until his sensitive hearing picked up the first of the distant pops as the 'guests' began to Apparate. Anxiously he looked out of the back window but Sirius continued to set the stones back into place without looking round. Remus sighed and opened the door, forestalling Snape who had been about to knock.
"Well," the potions master demanded. "Where is he? And how do you plan to get him to drink this?" He held up a small phial filled with a swirly, sparkling potion, glinting red and green and gold.
"He has been gardening all morning," Remus said. "It's a hot day - he'll be thirsty. But Snape, it doesn't taste as bad as my Wolfsbane, does it? Otherwise I may have to pin him down while you hold his nose."
"Appealing though the thought may be," Snape assured him, "this particular mixture has a pleasant flavour and may be readily mixed with any alcoholic beverage. Butterbeer would be ideal."
"That I have," Remus said with relief and went to the cold box. By the time he had obtained the chilled butterbeer, removed the lid and assisted Snape to pour a carefully measured amount of the potion into the bottle, the other guests were assembling. Dumbledore Apparated virtually silently into the kitchen, the dignity of his arrival only slightly marred by his appearing with one foot in the coal scuttle, while a sort of mobile giggle with several pairs of feet announced the arrival of Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny under Harry's invisibility cloak and supervised by Bill.
"Hey, Remus," Bill said, grinning as he lifted the cloak to let the kids out, then folded the silky material and hung it on the back of the door. "Lovely weather we're having. Pity we can't enjoy it."
Remus nodded, the shade under the apple trees was very inviting and a little further up the valley there was a beck with a pool that was just right for splashing in. There had been a couple of afternoons when he and Sirius had dragged some rugs and a basket full of butterbeer up there and spent the afternoon sunning themselves. On one memorable occasion they had been joined by a couple of hikers, fit, sun-tanned young females striking across country towards Hexham, who had been pleased to share the beer, splash in the pool and continue on their way to Hexham the following morning with a couple of carefully applied memory modifying charms securely in place. That was a good memory for it had lightened Sirius' mood for a good forty-eight hours.
"Hello," Remus grinned at the kids. "Everybody know what they're doing?"
"Certainly do," Harry said. "How's Sirius? And where is he?"
"He's in the garden," Remus replied, "and today he is feeling energetic. Keep out of sight while I go and give him his potion."
Snape watched him go then turned to Dumbledore. "Can I go now?" he asked. "I've made the potion as you asked, I've helped to transport the children here, surely you can dispense with my services?"
"Severus," Dumbledore said chidingly, "it's Christmas. Be of good cheer. Besides, we need you for the antidote."
Snape, growling, threw himself into a chair. It was going to be a long day.
Meanwhile, Hermione and Ginny had followed Harry to the back of the room and all three of them were peeping through the curtains. Harry squinted against the bright sunlight, following Remus progress between the neat beds of vegetables, the strung beans, the stands of raspberry canes, up to the patch of grass at the top of the garden and the tumbledown wall. There he could just see a dark head bowed over the top of the wall carefully setting another stone in place. Sirius looked well, he thought, his face intent on his job, his hands sure and steady. He looked up at Remus' call and Harry saw the white flash of a grin, then he set both hands on top of the wall and vaulted over.
"Oh...," Hermione moaned.
"Sweet Merlin," Ginny whimpered.
Harry rolled his eyes. It was a hot day, did they expect Sirius to heave stones around in his robes? Faded jeans and rigger boots where a much more suitable get up, especially for a wizard who was naturally olive skinned and who took a tan like that and who had obviously been doing a lot of heavy work lately and had the washboard stomach and well-defined pectorals to prove it. Sirius smiled again as he took the bottle of butterbeer from Remus. He passed the cool be-dewed glass once across his forehead and then tilted his head back. As one girl, Ginny and Hermione went for their wands.
"Oculamaximus," they both whispered then they watched, mouths agape.
"Oh," Hermione moaned after a moment. "It's just like a Diet Coke commercial."
"Diet what?" Ginny whispered. "Oh, oh, look where that drip is going! Down, down, oooohhh ... lucky drip."
Harry had been watching the drip too. He closed his mouth with a snap.
"Huh, girls!" he said, cheeks flaming, and went to help Ron transfigure Remus coatstand into a Christmas tree.
People in my thoughts this week:
Kate because she's coping with a poorly husband and he is, apparently, not a good patient.
Also
innerslytherin because - well she knows why. Chin up, kid!Although I started writing Roseblade's Challenge for Hogwarts Boudoir - and it should really be at lest an R to qualify there - it has settled firmly as a PG/PG13 because Jenny has decided that it is her story! I'll continue to post it there with a warning - fluff alert!
Remus would have been the first to admit that his home was not much to look at but he kept it clean and sound and, on the whole, was perfectly content with it. Long and low and painted white, it nestled into a fold in the hillside very much, as Sirius had said, like a bead of sweat into a cleavage. Not perhaps the most accurate metaphor but Remus rather liked it. There was one large room downstairs that served as both living room and kitchen, a tiny bathroom tucked into the small space under the stairs and another smallish room where Remus' now alphabetical books led a pampered existence that also doubled as a study. Upstairs, under the eaves, were two bedrooms where Remus could only stand up straight in the middle of the room and Sirius couldn't stand up straight at all. Not a bad retreat for two bachelors who for one reason or another needed to keep their heads down and out of sight. Not a good place, however, to host a large and, Remus suspected, raucous Christmas party. The fact that it was the second week of August and the weather was lovely was only one more problem.
Snape had given in, in the end. Dumbledore had pointed out that if Sirius became too depressed to be of any assistance he, Dumbledore, would be looking for somebody else to assume responsibility for Harry's emotional welfare and Remus would be far too busy on business for the Order to make himself available as and when required.
"The logical choice," the Headmaster had said with relish, "would be someone who is on the premises, as the Muggles say, 24/7. Professor McGonagall would be a possibility but I think that the time has come when Harry really needs a male role-model."
"Headmaster," Snape said hollowly, "you wouldn't!"
"I won't have to," Dumbledore agreed, "because you're going to make me the potions as I requested...aren't you, Severus!"
Snape had bowed his head in unwilling acquiescence and departed, snarling, for his laboratory.
And now, Remus mused, as he watched Sirius rebuilding the dry-stone wall at the bottom of the garden, we are about to taste the fruits of Snape's labours and they were likely to be very sour and wormy - he would have made sure of that!
Remus returned to the front of the house. Sirius would be an hour or so at least, because Remus had bribed his bottom of the garden fairies to kick the stones out of the wall as fast as they were replaced, and that gave him time to get everything ready.
He stooped in front of the kitchen fire and tossed in a good pinch of Floo powder. "Hogwarts, Headmasters Office," he said and a few moments later saw Dumbledore's disembodied head smiling at him from the flames.
"Ready when you are," Remus said.
It was only ten minutes until his sensitive hearing picked up the first of the distant pops as the 'guests' began to Apparate. Anxiously he looked out of the back window but Sirius continued to set the stones back into place without looking round. Remus sighed and opened the door, forestalling Snape who had been about to knock.
"Well," the potions master demanded. "Where is he? And how do you plan to get him to drink this?" He held up a small phial filled with a swirly, sparkling potion, glinting red and green and gold.
"He has been gardening all morning," Remus said. "It's a hot day - he'll be thirsty. But Snape, it doesn't taste as bad as my Wolfsbane, does it? Otherwise I may have to pin him down while you hold his nose."
"Appealing though the thought may be," Snape assured him, "this particular mixture has a pleasant flavour and may be readily mixed with any alcoholic beverage. Butterbeer would be ideal."
"That I have," Remus said with relief and went to the cold box. By the time he had obtained the chilled butterbeer, removed the lid and assisted Snape to pour a carefully measured amount of the potion into the bottle, the other guests were assembling. Dumbledore Apparated virtually silently into the kitchen, the dignity of his arrival only slightly marred by his appearing with one foot in the coal scuttle, while a sort of mobile giggle with several pairs of feet announced the arrival of Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny under Harry's invisibility cloak and supervised by Bill.
"Hey, Remus," Bill said, grinning as he lifted the cloak to let the kids out, then folded the silky material and hung it on the back of the door. "Lovely weather we're having. Pity we can't enjoy it."
Remus nodded, the shade under the apple trees was very inviting and a little further up the valley there was a beck with a pool that was just right for splashing in. There had been a couple of afternoons when he and Sirius had dragged some rugs and a basket full of butterbeer up there and spent the afternoon sunning themselves. On one memorable occasion they had been joined by a couple of hikers, fit, sun-tanned young females striking across country towards Hexham, who had been pleased to share the beer, splash in the pool and continue on their way to Hexham the following morning with a couple of carefully applied memory modifying charms securely in place. That was a good memory for it had lightened Sirius' mood for a good forty-eight hours.
"Hello," Remus grinned at the kids. "Everybody know what they're doing?"
"Certainly do," Harry said. "How's Sirius? And where is he?"
"He's in the garden," Remus replied, "and today he is feeling energetic. Keep out of sight while I go and give him his potion."
Snape watched him go then turned to Dumbledore. "Can I go now?" he asked. "I've made the potion as you asked, I've helped to transport the children here, surely you can dispense with my services?"
"Severus," Dumbledore said chidingly, "it's Christmas. Be of good cheer. Besides, we need you for the antidote."
Snape, growling, threw himself into a chair. It was going to be a long day.
Meanwhile, Hermione and Ginny had followed Harry to the back of the room and all three of them were peeping through the curtains. Harry squinted against the bright sunlight, following Remus progress between the neat beds of vegetables, the strung beans, the stands of raspberry canes, up to the patch of grass at the top of the garden and the tumbledown wall. There he could just see a dark head bowed over the top of the wall carefully setting another stone in place. Sirius looked well, he thought, his face intent on his job, his hands sure and steady. He looked up at Remus' call and Harry saw the white flash of a grin, then he set both hands on top of the wall and vaulted over.
"Oh...," Hermione moaned.
"Sweet Merlin," Ginny whimpered.
Harry rolled his eyes. It was a hot day, did they expect Sirius to heave stones around in his robes? Faded jeans and rigger boots where a much more suitable get up, especially for a wizard who was naturally olive skinned and who took a tan like that and who had obviously been doing a lot of heavy work lately and had the washboard stomach and well-defined pectorals to prove it. Sirius smiled again as he took the bottle of butterbeer from Remus. He passed the cool be-dewed glass once across his forehead and then tilted his head back. As one girl, Ginny and Hermione went for their wands.
"Oculamaximus," they both whispered then they watched, mouths agape.
"Oh," Hermione moaned after a moment. "It's just like a Diet Coke commercial."
"Diet what?" Ginny whispered. "Oh, oh, look where that drip is going! Down, down, oooohhh ... lucky drip."
Harry had been watching the drip too. He closed his mouth with a snap.
"Huh, girls!" he said, cheeks flaming, and went to help Ron transfigure Remus coatstand into a Christmas tree.