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More fic.

Title: All in your head
Rating: G/PG
Wordcount: 491
Summary: Voldemort wasn't the only one who perfomed forbidden magic, but is it right when you split your soul for love?
Author's notes: This has been sitting on my harddrive, beta'd and finished for about 2 months. Really shouldn't procrastinate so in everything I do. Partly inspired by the Dragon races's trait of going M'daha in the Tale of the Five series by Diane Duane.

( All In Your Head )

They perform the spells seven weeks after leaving school, an auspicious number for this type of magic. Dark magic, forbidden magic, Black magic.
Taken, stolen from some of the most terrible books in the library of 12 Grimmauld Place by Sirius, hidden under a borrowed Cloak. He knows he could be, should be, detected by the wards that shroud the house, despite his blood, but he is confident in his safety. Secure in the knowledge that his mother, bearer of the wards, is deep in potion, poison sleep. His little brother, bearing gifts, is unwittingly their Trojan horse and ensures their success.
Modified, cast and settled, the spells are undetectable to those who do not know exactly what to look for, and who else would dare such terrifying magic?
Then the betrayal, and now Remus feels the first, tiniest amount of regret. If Sirius (No, not Sirius, not now. Black, black hearted, oh Padfoot!) dies in Azkaban, he will be forced to endure the betrayer within his own mind. This regret weighs on him lightly, in all his years of moving from place to place, but is simply one more small weight on already bowed shoulders. 13 years later, and now he almost weeps in relief- he is neither beholden to nor a vessel for a traitor, a killer, but to Sirius once again.
Two more years in close proximity, and Remus realises that Sirius’s sanity is returning with increasing speed with each day that passes. The spells from so long ago have taken something from each of them after all, and stored it for safekeeping in the other. Returned to the intimacy of the original casting, the spellframe is revoking the Dementor’s lingering effects.
Then watching it all come undone. Sirius falls, and Remus fears their spells have failed as the magic stays inactive. Until the seventh day and Remus’s head splits open from the inside, the embedded magics screaming into silver, blinding life.
When he regains consciousness, he celebrates Sirius’s death with him. Increasingly tipsy despite a werewolf’s metabolism, the conversation turns to their future.
"They’ll worry even more if you don’t look haggard and grief-stricken."
"Don’t care. They’ll probably assume I’m neck deep in denial, or that I’ve already done my mourning for you fifteen years ago. I’ll take missions that keep me out of the Order’s way, go places where no one knows me and no one cares."
"What happens when you die?" The sudden shift is typical, and Remus is feeling slightly whimsical.
"Then we face the afterlife hand in hand, although mouth to mouth is probably more your style of things." He can feel his mouth stretch with Padfoot’s grin.
"Ah Moony, you know me so well. We could always find someone else, pass into them. Start a tradition, inherit a cursed house, three ugly tea services and several used souls."
"Harry’d take us."
"Probably." Remus raises their glass in salute.
"To our future."

Date: 2005-11-14 03:56 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Psst. I have read through your fics but haven't had time to do anything with them. I do like them though. They're very good.

Date: 2005-11-15 07:51 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Thank you. No glaring errors?

Date: 2005-11-16 02:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Nah not at all.


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