apheliaholmes

[apheliaholmes]

Drarry

⚡️🗞️ 🍏 📓 

Gazette of Hogwarts - Part II ☆

The following days, everyone had the same words in their mouths:

“Who is writing about Harry?” — “I’m sure the next pages were so explicit…” — “I want to read more, have you seen the way the writer is obsessed?” It was driving Draco insane. He wanted so badly for everyone to forget about that damn paper. It was just… a page of his diary. It was private. It was his. And thank god no one knew it was his.

Draco was curious to see Harry’s reaction. The Gryffindor was… dismissive. He had his face in his damn books, trying to avoid everyone’s glances — more than usual — and his two best friends were on their last nerves, trying to protect their friend from inappropriate question. But if someone with less curiosity than Malfoy had bought Harry’s shyness, Draco didn’t. He saw Harry reading the Gazette of Hogwarts, he even saw him keeping the page in his Potions book.

“Aren’t you tired of being a narcissist?” asked Draco, sitting next to Harry in Potions class.

Harry closed his book at the speed of light, his cheeks slightly blushing.

“It’s the first time I read it, okay?”

Draco smiled at that lie.

“You like the writing or something?” asked Draco, smirking like a little bastard.

“I do, actually.”

Harry tried to act tough, but his cheeks were a flagrant betrayal.

Draco nodded, looking back at Snape, who — for once — was not paying attention to the class, waiting for the other students to arrive. He sat properly in his chair and looked back at Harry, who had opened his Potions book again.

“You’re self-obsessed, Potter.”

Harry looked up at Draco.

“You’re worse at that. Don’t worry.”

Draco smirked.

“Why is it such a big deal that a desperate girl wrote about you?” he asked, trying to orient Harry toward a female writer rather than a male — rather than him.

“No one said it was a girl.” Fuck. “And… I don’t know… it’s the first time an article is about me. Not ‘the savior’ or ‘the boy who survived’ — just… me.”

Draco wanted to smile, to kiss Harry’s forehead and whisper tender words, “I see you.” But he didn’t.

“Pathetic.”

He looked back at Snape when he started the lesson.

Later that day, when Draco was reading peacefully in the Slytherin common room — his eyes often drifting to the gigantesque window in hope of seeing the Giant Squid — he heard some other Slytherins whispering, Gazette of Hogwarts in their hands, about the article. His article. He paid more attention than he’d like to admit and tried his best to act nonchalant.

“My sweet Draco…” Said Pansy, sitting on the armrest of the black leather couch, “Do you think tomorrow’s Gazette will gift us another lovely article?” she teased. “Or should I say, a horny page of a personal diary?”

“Shut up, Pansy, or I swear—” Draco stopped when she chuckled and caressed his cheek.

“Calm down. I’m teasing.”

She sat next to him, her legs laying across Draco’s lap, the rest of her body stretched out on the couch.

“You should write again.”

Draco looked at her quickly, confused.

“You have his attention,” she said softly looking at him. “He wants to know who wrote that. But I think he also wants to read more.”

Malfoy chuckled.

“Isn’t it you who wants to read more? About my stupid—” Draco sighed.

“It’s not stupid… You love him—”

“Don’t say things like that, Pansy.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I’m just saying… write. Stop being a little tortured bitch and go charm your boyfriend.”

Draco had had enough. He slapped his book shut and walked away.

Pansy smirked, knowing perfectly well she had just kicked Draco’s overthinking into gear — and sooner or later, he would write again in the Gazette of Hogwarts. Because he never wanted anything more than Harry’s attention… without Harry knowing it was him. ☆

uhm??? part two :) i’m currently writing part three too, and maybe there’ll be a part four (?) i like writing Pansy as a little personal demon for Draco, haha (but overall, she has his best interests in mind). do you like how i write Harry? i’m still struggling to really find a way to describe him, because i think he’s confused about how he feels about Draco… and that confuses me too, lol anyway, did you like it? should i change something?

[apheliaholmes]

Drarry

⚡️🗞️ 🍏 📓

Gazette of Hogwarts - Part I ☆

Everyone knew. Everyone. That someone, in the Gazette of Hogwarts, was obsessed with Harry Potter and wrote a lot about him.

At the beginning, it was just a small school journal, something to encourage students to write more professional papers, defend ideas, and debate. Through, of course, solid argumentation and proof, well-written and polite. The major subjects were written by Luna Lovegood, and no one really paid attention except her friends. Neville sometimes wrote one or two articles about botany, but the boy was too shy to write more, even under the supplications of Luna.

The young Ravenclaw was basically doing the work all by herself. Thank God, some kind elves helped her and even wrote some papers under hidden pennames. That’s when Hermione got interested in the journal and didn’t stop speaking about it for days, practically begging Luna to be a part of the journal club, which she agreed to.

Multiple other students joined too, wanting to boost their participation in school to — for some of them — apply for higher studies. And of course, Draco was there. He was everywhere he could be to gain some points for his house and was very hopeful in winning the House Cup.

He stayed late. Very late. Nearly sleeping on the desk in the journal’s room. And, one day, he forgot one of his personal journals near the magic printer. And maybe — just maybe — an elf printed the page, not really paying attention to his duty, adding some very personal thoughts about a very specific wizard, including some very specific details.

The next morning, at breakfast, all of Hogwarts was reading the paper. It was — limited — in short numbers, so multiple students tried to read it at the same time, standing behind one another, trying to see, to read, to know.

Draco didn’t understand the euphoria. After all, the journal was just about a future lunar eclipse and some random stuff around the school. Not much. Right?

“You need to read that, Draco,” said Pansy with a smirk.

Draco ordered that the journal be given to him, and no one would have been bold enough to refuse his demand. He read the paper by himself, trying his very best not to blush.

“Harry. The fuck. Potter. And his sweet little lips that move so softly when he speaks, always getting an answer wrong, gosh… what would I give to kiss him? Not my pride. Not for now, at least.

I dream of him. Every. Fucking. Night. And every morning, I miss him.

His laugh is a melodic sound in my ear and a living reason for my heart. This bastard lights the room he enters. Like the goddamn sun. I wish I could make him feel this way. Make his stomach have butterflies and his cheeks blush. But he’s too focused on his next Quidditch game. He doesn’t pay attention to me. Merlin… I just want his attention. His eyes on me, and me only. I want him to worship me and I want to worship him. Is that too much to ask? Is it? No. It’s not. I always get what I want. I just want to make him happy, to make him laugh, to make him feel love, to make him matter, to make him feel warm, to make him feel safe, to make him moan—”

The journal page stopped here, in the middle of the sentence. Everyone just wished they had the next page, but the elf hadn’t printed it — unaware of it.

At the Gryffindor table, Harry was red. Red. He had never, ever blushed that much. And Draco noticed it very well, trying not to smirk.

“Pathetic,” said Draco, pushing the journal away. “And disgusting.”

I’m so fucked.

—☆—

this is my first Drarry, i hope you like it! i like to think Draco journals a lot (and I like to think he journals as much as Regulus did, and that he’s in the same dorm where Regulus was in the past, writing about another Potter too — anyway…) he never shares it with anyone, so when it ends up in the Gazette of Hogwarts, he kinda freaks out but acts normal so no one gets suspicious. also, Pansy knows it’s him.

from Harry’s perspective, the poor boy is confused, lol. he has NO idea who that could be, and everyone looks at him for days!!

should i write a part two?

[apheliaholmes]

Moonwater

🐺 📖 🐈‍⬛ 🌧️ 

Rainy sunday afternoon 

⭐︎

Regulus loved when it was raining. He loved it even more when he could stay in Remus’ dorm. From time to time, he’d hide under the Cloak of Invisibility so no one would notice him snuggling against Remus. They often stayed there, with the presence of the other, in silence. Remus running his hand through the soft hair of Regulus, while Regulus rubbed his fingers on Remus’ arm. They were both touch-deprived and never seemed to be fully satisfied by the touch of the other, always wanting to stay in their own bubble forever. And under the Cloak of Invisibility, it was their perfect little bubble.

And this Sunday was no exception. Regulus was lying next to Remus – well, their legs were entwined and his head was on Remus’ chest – while the soft voice of Lupin read a book to him in a gentle, caring whisper.

Regulus let out a soft sigh when Remus started to caress his hair, and without realising it, he moved his head even closer to Remus’ hand. And that made Remus smile.

The soft sound of the rain was gently tapping a window not far from Remus’ bed, and downstairs in the Gryffindor common room, someone was playing the piano, creating a relaxing sound in the dorm. Regulus was fighting not to fall asleep, but his ears were absorbed by the quiet beat of Remus’ heart, his breathing, and his soft, calming voice. Regulus didn’t even know what book he was reading, to be fair — what mattered was that it was Remus who was reading. He could have read a grocery list or the back of a cereal box; he wouldn’t have minded the slightest.

“My soft angel…” whispered Remus before placing a soft kiss on Regulus’ forehead.

And that was enough to make Regulus fall asleep.

Remus didn’t stop reading, nor did he stop rubbing Regulus’ hair with care. He softly massaged his neck, his eyes lost in the book as he spoke gently.

It was only a few moments later — maybe an hour — that he felt the texture of Regulus change, from perfectly silky hair to delicate black fur. This change happened often. Every time Regulus was relaxed and comfortable in his sleep, he changed into his Animagus form. And he was always relaxed and comfortable with Remus.

The black cat started to purr melodically, making Remus smile. He loved so much seeing Regulus trust him to the point of being so vulnerable beside him. The Animagus woke up, stretching a bit on Remus’ chest before establishing his new nap spot: Remus’ crooked neck.

The humid and warm nose of the cat softly rubbed Remus’ cheek before purring loudly next to his ear. And neither of them would change the way they spent their afternoon.

—☆—

it’s raining, i’ve had some tea and ate a moony toast (peanut butter, not lemon curd for me), it’s a quiet sunday afternoon, and i just wanted to write a little something, hope you like it and you're enjoying your sunday :)

[apheliaholmes]

i don’t get how people can hate the rain? like…. the ocean came all this way to give the world tiny kisses and you treat her like this?!

i love the rain. she cries for the sky the way I never could for myself.

[apheliaholmes]

Moonwater

🐺 📖 🐈‍⬛ ☕️ 

The Bookshop

⭐︎

Regulus and Remus had the same way to deal after school exams: they bought a book. Remus called it “aftercare,” making Sirius laugh at that, while Regulus - often explaining to Barty for the thousandth time why he bought so many books - “it’s because I fucking need it or I’ll kill you, dumbass.” Well… both of them spent the few weeks before the exams helping their friends catch up on all the months of study they didn’t decide to do. That was driving Remus mad, that was driving Regulus mad, everyone was getting mad. It was just a normal day.

Peter was probably the only one enjoying the show. Neither Remus nor Regulus knew that they were doing the same thing, but Peter often let his eyes vagabond around the library and often saw Regulus screaming at his friends like Remus was doing. Well, not really screaming, because Regulus respected the silence in the library a lot - he used a silence charm around his table to feel free to insult his friends. Barty never listened, Peter looked at his own table, Sirius never listened, Evan always tried to flirt with Barty, Peter looked back at his friends, yeah… James was flirting with Sirius. The similarities made Peter smile, and he looked back at his book, studying.

The day of the exams, Remus and Regulus were tense - they were always tense, but when it was study-related, it was worse - and everyone seemed to get on their last nerves for some reason. Hogwarts always made every student take their exams on the same day, no matter if it was your first year or your last, you’d be around the whole damn school, on your single desk, doing your goddamn long paper. Remus hated this, too many people around him, and for Regulus, he wanted to slap everyone who was making too much noise with their ink and feather or by nervously tapping their foot on the ground.

When they finished - both in advance - they ended up exiting the exam room, looking at each other. Remus opened his mouth, in hopes of making small talk with the younger, but Regulus scoffed and left, rolling his eyes.

“You little shit.” Whispered Remus, watching Regulus leave the hallway.

They never really interacted with each other in the past, not a lot at least. Regulus didn’t like Remus, to be fair, Regulus didn’t like a lot of people. But for the friend of his brother, it was only because he felt like Sirius liked Remus more than him. And he had this feeling for all the friends of his brother, those fucking Marauders. And he refused to acknowledge he was wrong. He just wanted to feel like he was the only person that made Sirius happy to be alive, and not some idiot Gryffindors for whom he decided to leave home and act like he never knew any Black. Like he never was a Black. And that was driving Regulus insane.

Therapy was a long process for him. And he spent more money on books than therapy. He was calmer while reading a book, lost in the words of the writer, not in his own mind, and that, that was a blessing. Therapy was the opposite, he was obligated to acknowledge his mistakes and to confront his own mind. He hated being unable to really hate Sirius, and he knew that the only one he really hated was himself. And for some reason, reading made him feel… safe. In a world where nothing could really hurt him. So yeah… after all the anxiety, pressure, and insanity of the exams, he’d go to the bookstore.

Remus never really noticed Regulus though. He noticed him the first time he came to Hogwarts, of course, a shy boy, gaze avoiding and intimidated. His black hair didn’t fool anyone, everyone knew he was a Black. Sirius was excited to see his baby brother and hopeful he’d be sorted into Gryffindor. He had a plan in his mind that everything would be fine if only Regulus asked the Sorting Hat to be placed in his house. If only…

But the hat whispered, “You’ll be a courageous wizard in every house, Regulus, but Gryffindor suits you the best… You have the good in your heart, mhh I see… extremely courageous.”

But thank god, no one heard that, neither Dumbledore, nor McGonagall, nor Sirius. Only Regulus and the Sorting Hat.

“I want Slytherin,” whispered Regulus. The Sorting Hat sighed, disappointed, like it knew something everyone else ignored, and screamed to the Great Hall, “SLYTHERIN!”

And all hope of Sirius was gone. His smile disappeared the moment he heard the hat, and he spent his dinner trying to catch Regulus’ gaze, needing to see him. Remus didn’t really say anything, he didn’t know what to say, so he just took Sirius’ hand and comforted him. That was how Remus met Regulus for the first time, for far away.

After that, he learned about Regulus through Sirius. Sirius needed to speak about him, he needed to remember him, he had the feeling he lost his brother the day Regulus chose Slytherin. Sirius didn’t stop saying to Remus how cute Regulus was as a baby, or the calm and reserved kid he was. Remus knew a lot and paid attention to every detail. He didn’t know why, but he was interested in Regulus. Or maybe it was the way Sirius described him. You could hear the love, the pain, and sometimes the hate of Sirius toward Regulus. But you could never doubt how far in hell Sirius would go for Regulus. And he tried so, so much. But if someone doesn’t want to go out of hell, you can stay in it forever, right? So Sirius decided to wait outside of hell. In this situation, hell was inside of Grimmauld Place, and waiting outside was the Potters’.

Remus saw how much Regulus had hate in him when he and Sirius saw each other after he left for the Potters’. Gosh, this argument was terrible. And that’s the first time Remus really spoke to Regulus. Or perhaps tried.

“Could you at least hear what Sirius is trying to say?” Screamed Remus.

And Regulus, with all his hate, answered, “Go fuck yourself, Lupin. If I need advice from a moron, I’ll ask Sirius.”

The conversation didn’t go well after that. And Remus realised that, even if he knew a lot about Regulus, Regulus didn’t know a thing about him. Remus was attached to the Regulus that Sirius described to him, but he didn’t really know him. After all, he only knew him through the lens of Sirius.

So yes, Remus and Regulus never really interacted with each other, at least not in a polite and amicable way.

Remus waited outside of the exam room for his friend, still looking in the direction where Regulus had left. Was he hoping to see him again? Yes, without a doubt. But what could he say to him? Regulus refused any kind of interaction, and for some reason, these last few months, it pissed Remus off to another level. He hated to his bones seeing Regulus avoiding him, avoiding Sirius. He hated not seeing Regulus for breakfast in the Great Hall. He needed to at least see him three or four times a day and to establish eye contact. But since after Christmas, Regulus stopped looking at him, and that, that was unacceptable. Remus knew it was just a matter of time before he lost his shit and decided to confront Regulus. Which, when he thought of it - and he thought of it a lot - was ridiculous. They never knew each other. But… the dinner eye contact was their thing… Every damn evening in the Great Hall, no exceptions tolerated.

Remus sighed, looking back in the direction where Regulus had left. He just wanted to see his eyes, a small smile on his face. It was a need. Not in a drug way, more as a reassurance way. It was his way to know Regulus was okay. Sometimes, Remus was afraid he made up this little ritual in his mind, those exchanged eye contacts, those soft looks at each other.

Remus feared he’d disappear if Regulus didn’t look at him.

He spent the rest of the day - and half of his night - thinking of him, unknowing that Regulus did the same. It could’ve been funny, to see how one avoided the other but both of them wanted the same thing, but it wasn’t funny, because one of them punished himself, thinking he didn’t deserve to be understood and seen by someone, anyone.

He spent the rest of the day - and half of his night - thinking of him, unknowing that Regulus did the same. It could’ve been funny, to see how one avoided the other but both of them wanted the same thing.

But it wasn’t funny, because one of them punished himself, thinking he didn’t deserve to be understood and seen by someone, anyone.

That Saturday morning, Regulus didn’t look at Remus. He did his best to stay focused on his porridge, avoiding the only one he truly wanted the attention of. And that drove Remus insane. The way he bit into his apple was angry, his eyes fixed on Regulus.

“You fucking little shit,” thought Remus.

Peter noticed. He noticed everything. The little rat was small, noiseless, and very observant. He saw. He saw a lot. But he didn’t comment on anything. Instead, he poured some tea into Remus’ cup, softly rubbing his arm like Peter always did.

“You know what kind of book you want to buy?” asked the boy softly, knowing Remus needed to focus on something else or he’d call out Regulus in the middle of the Great Hall.

Remus answered vaguely, and Peter pushed the subject, wanting his attention. Remus smiled softly, did he know what Peter was doing?

Probably not the full picture, but he knew Peter was able to understand him without needing to speak. And that was what Remus loved the most about him.

After breakfast, Remus left for the bookstore without looking at Regulus, his fists tightened in tension. He wanted so badly to just… see him, and see that Regulus saw him too.

And Regulus did, but Remus didn’t see.

Later in the morning, Remus was finally in town - the Muggle one - walking in the direction of his favourite bookstore. It was an old shop, probably as old as the town itself. A plate on its front said: “We sell books since 1878.” The smell inside the bookshop was so comforting for Remus that he often sat on one of the old couches near the fireplace to read or just watch through a window what was going on outside. He liked being alone. Of course, he always loved being with his friends, but from time to time, he enjoyed seeing the time fly just by himself.

He opened the door, smiled politely at the shop owner, and started to walk between the shelves. He let his fingers vagabond over the book covers, inhaling the comforting smell of the old pages. It was the end of March, but it was still cold outside - it’s always cold in Scotland - so the fireplace made some crisp noise in the background, warming the shop, enchanting it with the warm and burning wood.

Remus loved it. He loved it so much he could forget all the pain he felt sometimes.

He drank his warm coffee he brought earlier. He knew he shouldn’t drink caffeine but… we live only once, after all. He didn’t stop walking in the bookstore, slowly, tilting his head to the side to read some book titles. “How funny some Muggle writers are,” he thought, reading some synopses.

Remus didn’t hear the ring of the door when someone entered the bookstore, well… he did, actually, but didn’t care the slightest. Maybe if he knew who it was, he would’ve been more captivated.

But he didn’t. He was focused on the book he held in his hands.

Regulus watched him from the entrance and turned around, ready to leave. But when he noticed that Remus had seen him and hadn’t paid attention to him, he turned around again. This time, he could watch Remus without his knowledge. And that… that didn’t happen a lot.

Regulus walked rapidly behind some shelves, purposefully hiding himself from Remus. For once, he could see Remus in his own little world. Lost between words and soft pages, hardcovers and thoughts. He wondered if Remus liked reading for the same reasons he did. But it wasn’t the case, and he would’ve liked to know more about it.

He couldn’t help but smile when he saw Remus frown while reading the first pages of a book. One of the scars near his lips stretched a bit, and Regulus wondered how it would feel to kiss them. For some reason, he would’ve liked to make Remus feel his lips on his scars.

Remus walked to the leather couch. He removed his coat, put his coffee on the marble table, crossed his legs, and started to read.

Regulus couldn’t help but frown when he saw the sweater he wore - it was Sirius’ one. Suddenly, he was upset. Not because his brother and Remus shared clothes, but because… no… it was because Remus and his brother shared clothes.

If only Regulus had asked, he’d have known everyone in their dorm shared Sirius’ clothes, perhaps, everyone shared their clothes.

James stole from Remus, Sirius from everyone, Peter from Remus too. There was no such thing as “personal items” in the Marauders’ dorm. But Regulus didn’t ask. He just stared.

Remus turned a page of the book, unaware of the presence of Regulus.

The soft fingers touching so delicately the paper made Regulus shiver. His eyes were fixed on Remus’ hands, on the scars they bore, and the soft bracelet he had on his right wrist, on how the sleeves fell to the middle of his forearm. He saw how soft Remus’ skin was - but sweet heaven, he would’ve liked to touch it. To feel it.

“Sorry, darling,” said the owner of the bookstore, asking Regulus to move from her path. The old lady smiled at him politely when he moved, and he smiled back.

When he looked back at Remus, their gaze finally met. Regulus was taken aback by it, thinking Remus wouldn’t notice him at all before he left the bookstore. He tried to regain his composure - he desperately tried.

“What- are you reading?” asked Regulus, unsure.

Remus couldn’t help but smile softly.

“The Crime of the Orient Express, apparently this Agatha Christie is a famous Muggle writer.” He looked at Regulus. The boy wore black pants, a grey wool sweater with a long black coat, and some black Dr. Martens - which surprised Remus. “You look good.”

Regulus clenched his jaw. Not because he was upset, but because he didn’t want to blush.

“So, crime book?” he asked, trying to react to the compliment.

“Yeah.” Remus shamelessly observed Regulus from top to bottom. It wasn’t often he saw him without the school uniform.

In a way, Regulus loved his attention. The way Remus smiled, or softly rubbed his phalanx on his lips - it was a reflex he had when he was relaxed. Regulus knew it. He had observed it so much.

“Take a book. Sit with me,” Remus asked - perhaps, commanded.

“Why should I?” he scoffed, with that little arrogant face Regulus had the secret of.

“Because we both want to spend time together. Stop with this attitude and get your ass here,” Remus said, admitting - and reassuring - Regulus that he wanted him near.

“I’ll find one then.”

And that’s what Regulus did. He walked around the bookstore, looking for a book, glancing at Remus - who did the same - before finally sitting next to him. At first, he tried to keep a reasonable distance between them, but Remus sent him a glance, undertoning: “Are you fucking serious?” Regulus rolled his eyes and got closer to Remus.

“Stop avoiding my eyes in the Great Hall.” The voice of Remus was low, his eyes fixed on the book.

Regulus tried not to smile, finding it amusing.

“I expect an answer.”

This time, Remus looked away from his book, his gaze finding Regulus.

“I won’t.”

The shoulders of Remus relaxed, and he nodded. He couldn’t help but smile softly.

“What book are you reading, Reg?”

“The Crime of the Orient Express. Apparently, this Agatha Christie is a famous Muggle writer,” he said, looking at Remus.

They smiled softly at one another.

Regulus had always wanted to read the same book as Remus did.

And finally, they did. It wasn’t the kind of book he expected, but he didn’t care - they shared it together. That was what mattered.

They spent the rest of the morning here. Reading in silence, with the company of each other. And neither of them could have hoped for a better way to be together.

Regulus grabbed Remus’ coffee and drank a sip. Perfectly aware of the way Remus looked at him, at the way his lips softly touched the goblet - the same spot where Remus had drunk earlier. Remus smiled. And so did Regulus.

Remus softly grabbed Regulus’ hand, intertwining their fingers.

None of them commented on the action, but Regulus squeezed Remus’ hand. And Remus did it back.

—☆—

hi, after all the support i had from my first microfic about moonwater, i decided to write another one — hope you like it? please keep in mind that english is not my first language and i’m dyslexic. i use grammarly for corrections and i hope it’s fluid enough for you to read. i really tried my best. so, that said: i’m in love with remus and regulus. i identify too much with both of them, and i see their relationship as a mutual understanding of one another, without the need to talk. they share a lot of interests — books mostly, studying, and probably other stuff i’ll write about lol. i like to think their relationship is platonic but… maybe i’ll write something less platonic one day. i hope you liked how i described them. i try to stick to “reality” but also include some stuff the whole fandom agrees on (that regulus is a little bitch). i didn’t want to write a perfect and sweet remus, because i think his character is more complicated than that — but keep in mind that’s just me and the way i write. there’s nothing wrong if you write a perfect and sweet remus. write what you want :) anyway, i would like to thank everyone for the support i received, because i didn’t expect this at all lol. i was so damn nervous to post my first work here. take care, give me advice if you want to, just stay kind <3 aphelia

[apheliaholmes]

to love someone is firstly to confess: i'm prepared to be devastated by you. by A History of My Brief Body by Billy-Ray Belcourt

[apheliaholmes]

[apheliaholmes]

Franz Kafka, 1912

[apheliaholmes]

your moonwater microfic was the most beautiful thing i've ever read

please write more

🙏

first of all, thank you so, so much ❤️ i appreciate your support, and your words mean the world to me. thank you for taking the time to read this microfic and being kind enough to say you like it, it truly means something to me. take care ❤️ ps: i'll try to write more, i solemnly swear

[apheliaholmes]

Moonwater

🐺 🎹 🐈‍⬛ ☕️ Remus is so jealous of Regulus ☆

Remus’s hands always hurt, especially after full moon nights. His bones were tight, painful, and wrapped in bandages almost all the time. It had become a habit for him. He had to give up so many things because of it: learning to drive, drawing, playing piano, guitar, rock climbing, pottery… He loved all of it, from the deepest part of his being. The only thing he could still do was write, usually for his homework. He found the sound of parchment under his quill pleasant, and he liked seeing the ink take the shape of his words. He also wrote for himself, in his journals, in the books he read – he constantly annotated his books. He sometimes tried to draw, and had improved little by little over the years.

But his wrists, fingers, and phalanges hurt terribly sometimes, and he let Sirius take his class notes – the only time Sirius was serious in class, because he knew that if he took bad notes for Remus, he’d be grumpy.

So, when Remus met Regulus and saw him playing the piano, he was consumed by jealousy. It wasn’t so much that Regulus was terribly talented and seemed to know how to play every piece of music; it was the way his fingers spread and moved with ease, flexibility, speed, and above all, grace.

Remus hated Regulus.

The Slytherin was beautiful, without scars on his face, body. He wasn’t a monster like Remus. He was perfect. He was smart, Quidditch Seeker of his team – because his fine fingers could catch the Golden Snitch with ease. He was the best at Potions, far better than Remus. Regulus was also elegant – the kind of elegance Remus knew he would never have. Who would find him elegant, with his cane?

Every time Remus ran into Regulus in the library, he stared at his thin fingers turning the pages of books. His gaze drifted to his fine lips, his focused expression, his impeccably styled black hair. He was so different from Sirius, and at the same time… so similar.

Remus gave up on the idea of playing piano, even just a little. He avoided the library at the hours Regulus might be there, and he refused to go near the music room. James, Sirius, and Peter questioned Remus, but he refused to answer, finding his own behaviour grotesque.

He hated knowing that some things were impossible for him, that his own body refused to stop hurting. He loathed himself, his reflection in the mirror, his voice, his skin, his eyes, his scars.

“Fuck!” He punched the bathroom mirror. It hurt so much, so deeply.

Peter burst the bathroom door open, worried. And Remus stormed out, beside himself.

“Rem–” Pettigrew tried to call after him, but Remus had already left the dorm, then the Gryffindor common room, ignoring the confused looks from James and Sirius.

Remus held back tears and wandered through the castle.

If only he were normal, if only he didn’t turn into that monster he hated so much… if only he wasn’t a burden to his friends, if only he could walk normally, if only…

He opened the music room door, shut it behind him, and collapsed in tears, eyes fixed on the old piano. In a way, that piano represented everything he would never be. Remus was like an instrument without sound, without echo, without tone. An empty shell.

Remus sat on the little stool behind the piano and gently touched the keys with his fingertips. His wrist cracked, and he groaned in pain. He pressed a key softly, and a melodic tone resonated in the room.

“That’s a C,” declared a voice he knew all too well.

“I know.” He didn't.

Regulus sat next to him. It surprised Remus, but he didn’t comment.

“Why are you crying?”

“It’s none of your business.”

Regulus chuckled subtly, not in a mocking tone, more amused by Remus’s coldness.

“Put your finger here,” he said, pointing to a piano key, and pressed two other keys at the same time. “You just played your first chord.”

Remus couldn’t help but smile. And Regulus smiled back at him.

“I could give you a few tips, if you’d like?”

“I couldn’t play.”

Remus ran his hand through his hair before finally looking at Regulus.

Fuck… why was he so beautiful? Why were his eyes looking at Remus with so much… sincerity?

“Why couldn’t you play?”

Regulus knew. And he knew Remus would lie to him. He could never tell Remus that sometimes – every full moon since he’d discovered the Gryffindor’s secret – he snuck out in his animagus form, watching from afar the werewolf, the black dog, the stag, and the rat. So he didn’t take offense when Remus made up a half-excuse, saying he had bone problems. It wasn’t entirely untrue, after all.

“I understand,” Regulus said softly, “but I can show you simple things, where you don’t have to move your wrist or fingers too much.”

Remus tried to control his heart. It was beating too fast, too… irregularly. He didn’t have time to answer before Regulus’s soft – perfect – hand took his and gently placed it on the piano keys. The black-haired boy delicately spread Remus’s fingers, and pressed the key for him.

“You okay? Not too bad?” Regulus asked.

“Not too bad.” ———🦋———

okay, okay… that’s the first text I share here lo (i'm anxious lol) l, hope you like it? English is not my first language, so sorry for the mistakes, I tried to correct it with Grammarly, hope it’s decent :) I like to think Regulus often walks in the castle as a black cat (because it’s obviously his Animagus form lol), and he hangs out in the music room. Maybe he even puts his paw on the piano from time to time lol. And he saw Remus walking in, crying, and couldn’t help but come back as his human form, silently, and ask what’s going on. I like to think he has a crush on Remus and just uses this moment as an excuse to get closer, and my oh my, when he touches Remus’s hand? He melts and feels his cheeks burn. (pics are not mine) aphelia

[apheliaholmes]

𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐒 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐈𝐒.

— she flies with her own wings.

[apheliaholmes]

[apheliaholmes]

[apheliaholmes]

Currently obsessed with the Marauders, might write something about them (?)

[apheliaholmes]

𝔟𝔩𝔲𝔢 𝔥𝔞𝔷𝔢

[apheliaholmes]

I should really finish writing my novel. It’s a short one, slightly more than 10k words, but I don’t know… I’m kinda afraid to finish and share it for some reason..?

[apheliaholmes]

The rain writes poetry on my window ☂︎⋆.°·☁︎