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Ralbus, necrophilliancy, probably bad for your brain 
03:30am 29/07/2005
  "Necrophilliancy!" Albus challed, loudly, raising his wand. "Necrophilliancy! Necrophilliancy! Necrophilliancy!" He began to chant, moving his wand (quite a crooked, battered wand, it had been through as much has he had) in extremely complex patterns. This was very, very dark magic, but...he would do anything for the man, nay, boy lying cold and dead in front of him.

Severus Snape had been saved from the werewolf, but dear, sweet, young Remus had not.

Albus had waited outside of the trapdoor for hours. When he hadn't heard the howls and screams signalling transformation, he'd known that something had happened. He'd already begun planning.
It didn't matter that this was some of the darkest magic known to wizardkind, that he was putting himself in the same boat as Tom Riddle himself.

Tom had been beautiful, too. Even at the orphanage, he had been striking, both in personality and looks. He had been special, had known it...
He had always considered himself too special. He was talented and clever, but he was not alone. Grindelwald had taught Albus, and Albus had taught Tom.
Albus had also taught Remus, and Remus was everything Tom was not. Careful, quiet, striking in the way that he just wasn't. Beautifully plain. Remus was fundamentally Dark, but he refused it, he forced himself into the light, and light complimented him.

"Necrophilliancy!" The commanding voice and confident wand movements stilled for a moment as Albus bent to see if there were any signs of life yet. There weren't.
Suddenly, Albus knew that this wouldn't work. He couldn't have battled Dark Wizards his entire life just to become one of them, even for the lovely boy in front of him.

He and Remus had discussed the nature of life and love, many times. He could have shaped up to be a great philosopher...

Albus stroked Remus' downy arms, up and down, rhythmically. His left hand came up to rest, palm up, on the cold cheek. He brought his lips down to rest gently on Remus'.
Albus' hands travelled lower and lower, resting on sides, hips, thighs. He sighed, and tears spilled from his eyes.
Remus/Albus "Remembering Laci" 
02:48am 29/07/2005

aaaaaaaaaaaalso I'm pretending it was an open-casket funeral thing cuz that's how I pictured it anyway

Remus sits, completely still, staring at him. At his body. So beautiful, even in death. He looks calm, serene, but Remus has seen him before he was...here. Before they'd forced the mask of calm and peace back onto his lifeless corpse, he'd been in pain, he'd been old and fragile. Not the Albus Remus remembers.
It is unfair that Hagrid is allowed to touch him, to hold him close, when Remus is the only one who has a right, who has earned the privaledge.
Blindly groping the air, he finds someone's hand, and squeezes it tightly, closing his eyes, and remembering.

Remembering years ago, when the kindly man had accepted him, had lied and planned and used all of his vast cunning to protect him.
Remembering when he himself had begun to take up extra projects and clubs, in order to be in his vicinity for as long as possible.
Remembering the long days when everyone was scared and no one was safe, when even the dark recesses of your own mind were unsafe.
Remembering how Albus would comfort him, would hold him, and he'd feel safer then he ever had.
Remembering the twelve years of isolation and despair, without his friends, but most importantly, without Albus.
Remembering the joy of recognition when that fateful owl swooped into a cracked window, bringing news of employment and of Albus.
Remembering the too-long hours of loneliness and the too-short hours of comfort.
Remembering how he died so quickly, at the hands of a traitor.
Remembering Albus.

As the service ends and people begin walking to the casket to pay their respects, Remus waits patiently in line. There is no time, anymore. As Pomena Sprout walks away from the flowers, dabbing at her eyes with a grubby hankerchief, Remus kneels in front of him, kingly and noble even after death, and strokes the beautiful lips with one reverential finger.
There is never enough time, no time like the present, and he kisses the cold hand.

Kay, committing seppeku now. *selfstab*

Also, see what J had to say about it:
VFDJ 18: You're eleonora2!
"Forbidden Love" 
04:43pm 21/07/2005
  Yes, the title is tres original, don't you think...? BTW, sorry for the weird tense changes, Im really tired right now.

Title: Forbidden Love
Author: Me, duhbrains.
Ship: Harroomstick
Rating: PG

Harry shut the heavy door to the Great Hall behind him and shivered in the cold, moon-lit air. He felt as if he were being watched, even though he was hidden beneath his invisibility cloak.

He snuck across the frosty lawn. The rhythm of his breath seemed to say "Don't go, don't go, don't go." When he arrived in front of the little shack, he knew he shouldn't be there. It was against all the rules. But love conquers all, doesn't it?

He knocked on the door, his throat constricting at the thought of his forbidden lover. There was no answer, and he slowly stepped inside, shedding his invisibility cloak. And here, in the corner, there it was, the object of Harry's affections, the thing that haunted Harry's mind night and day...

...his broomstick.

"Oh, broomie, please don't be angry with me," Harry pleaded, crouching next to his beloved friend. "Broom, please, listen to me, I'm not ashamed of our relationship, but... it's just that if anyone knew, we could never be together again."

The broom did not answer. Harry reached out and stroked the polished handle.

"Broom," he whispered softly, cradling it in his arms. "Broom, I love you." He held it close, kissing the twigs tenderly.

A half hour later, he set his lover back in the corner, donned in his invisibility cloak, and returned to his bed.

And there you have it. Harroomstick. More to follow. If I feel like it. BWAHAHAHAHAHA.
ROOK! Remus/Book 
07:53pm 21/07/2005

Title : Rook
Pairing : Remus/Book
Rating : PG
Summary : Bibliophilla to the <i>n</i>th degree
Author : vfdj42

RookCollapse )