ext_71853 (
alyxbradford.livejournal.com) wrote in
31_days2005-08-24 11:59 pm
[24 August] [Harry Potter] Hesitation
Title: Hesitation
Day/Theme: 24 August/I am waylaid by Beauty
Series: Harry Potter
Characters: Sirius, Remus, Bellatrix
Rating: PG
This isn’t supposed to be fun.
Sirius Black sits in an open window, a good eight feet above the ground. A soft stream of puffy grey smoke curls out of the end of his wand, so that to any onlookers, he may appear just a citizen taking a cigarette break in the open air. The day had been hot, and the evening not much better, and for this reason, he’s left his shirt entirely unbuttoned. With his head leaning back against one side of the window frame and one leg dangling out the window, he appears the very picture of lazy indolence. No one watching him would suspect that his every nerve is on edge, tense and poised for an imminent battle. Through half-drooping eyelids, he watches the alley with keen interest. He’ll likely be fighting for his life in a few moments, fight for his own to spare an innocent the trouble of fighting for hers.
It isn’t supposed to be fun. ’But dash it all’, Sirius thinks, letting another wisp of smoke flow out of his wand, ’I’m itching for it.’
He glances across the street. Remus is pacing in a room there, and every so often, his shadow passes over the window. He’ll be the one reminding Sirius to calm down if things get too heated, if Sirius gets to be enjoying his work too much. Leave it to the werewolf to be the sensible one.
Three pops at the end of the alley immediate attract Sirius’s attention. The only appreciable difference in his demeanour was a slight tensing of his arms. The three figures that had just Apparated in were, as Sirius had known they would be, dressed in black cloaks, their faces obscured by gleaming white masks. Across the street, Remus pauses by the window, watching as the trio of Death Eaters make their way down towards Number 8, the home of one Delia Noran, a Muggleborn witch the Order had just learned was a target.
Sirius feels his heartbeat quicken, and a grin spread over his features. He’s glad they finally decided to show on his shift, that he’ll get to be the one to fight them.
He and Remus wait until the Death Eaters are close. The stream of smoke from his wand dies away, and Remus steps slightly closer to his window.
It begins quickly. The shortest of the Death Eaters glances around, keeping a closer lookout on their surroundings than the other two. Suddenly, she – her gender revealed only by the pitch of her cry – points up at Sirius in the window, shouts out to her companions, and points her wand upwards. Sirius twirls his wand into his palm and leaps from the windowsill, as Remus does the same.
This is what he loves – heat, speed, danger, excitement. As curses rebound off the walls and the dim blue glow of hastily thrown shield charms illuminate the dim alley, Sirius whirls and dodges, the grin still on his face, the occasional barking laugh escaping him when he scores a hit on one of the Death Eaters.
From the other side of the alley, where he’s locked in combat with the shortest of their three opponents, the one who spotted them first, Remus shouts, “Keep your head, Sirius!”
“Always, Remus!” Sirius laughs, as he sends the tallest Death Eater tumbling into a trash bin.
Another moment, and the third Death Eater also turns on Remus, leaving Sirius to engage the woman. One of his spells barely misses her head, and the gust of wind accompanying knocks her hood back. With an angry yowl, she tears the mask from her face and whirls back to face him --
Tumbling raven curls that cascade to her waist. Aristocratically high cheekbones and finely sculpted features. Eyes the same colour as the moonless sky, set beneath elegant dark eyebrows. A long, delicate neck that disappears beneath the sleek black robes. Blood-red lips, slightly parted and full as ever.
Her thick black eyelashes startle open for the briefest of seconds, and they both pause momentarily. Sirius can’t help but gape. He knew, of course, has always known where her loyalties lay, but... somehow, so far, they had managed to avoid encountering each other in battle. He sees, for a moment, the breath catch in her throat, a look that might be regret in her eyes --
And then the blast hits him. He hadn’t seen her move her wand, but even as he crashes into the wall behind him, he sees her dash to her fallen companion and grab his wrist. “Come on! There are probably more! Let’s get out of here!”
Even through the crimson haze and yellow sparks flashing in front of his eyes, and the flashes of pain radiating from the back of his head where it hit the bricks, Sirius can see their forms disappear into the night. Remus jogs over, pushing his hair back from his face. “I think they’ve really gone... we should stay to make sure...” With a sigh, he looks down at Sirius. “I told you to keep your head.”
“You knew it was her?” Sirius says, sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck. Remus nods. “Dammit, Remus, why the hell didn’t you—"
“She could’ve killed you, Sirius,” Remus says simply. “Could’ve, when you were standing there gawking. Could’ve.” He sighs again. “And didn’t.”
Day/Theme: 24 August/I am waylaid by Beauty
Series: Harry Potter
Characters: Sirius, Remus, Bellatrix
Rating: PG
This isn’t supposed to be fun.
Sirius Black sits in an open window, a good eight feet above the ground. A soft stream of puffy grey smoke curls out of the end of his wand, so that to any onlookers, he may appear just a citizen taking a cigarette break in the open air. The day had been hot, and the evening not much better, and for this reason, he’s left his shirt entirely unbuttoned. With his head leaning back against one side of the window frame and one leg dangling out the window, he appears the very picture of lazy indolence. No one watching him would suspect that his every nerve is on edge, tense and poised for an imminent battle. Through half-drooping eyelids, he watches the alley with keen interest. He’ll likely be fighting for his life in a few moments, fight for his own to spare an innocent the trouble of fighting for hers.
It isn’t supposed to be fun. ’But dash it all’, Sirius thinks, letting another wisp of smoke flow out of his wand, ’I’m itching for it.’
He glances across the street. Remus is pacing in a room there, and every so often, his shadow passes over the window. He’ll be the one reminding Sirius to calm down if things get too heated, if Sirius gets to be enjoying his work too much. Leave it to the werewolf to be the sensible one.
Three pops at the end of the alley immediate attract Sirius’s attention. The only appreciable difference in his demeanour was a slight tensing of his arms. The three figures that had just Apparated in were, as Sirius had known they would be, dressed in black cloaks, their faces obscured by gleaming white masks. Across the street, Remus pauses by the window, watching as the trio of Death Eaters make their way down towards Number 8, the home of one Delia Noran, a Muggleborn witch the Order had just learned was a target.
Sirius feels his heartbeat quicken, and a grin spread over his features. He’s glad they finally decided to show on his shift, that he’ll get to be the one to fight them.
He and Remus wait until the Death Eaters are close. The stream of smoke from his wand dies away, and Remus steps slightly closer to his window.
It begins quickly. The shortest of the Death Eaters glances around, keeping a closer lookout on their surroundings than the other two. Suddenly, she – her gender revealed only by the pitch of her cry – points up at Sirius in the window, shouts out to her companions, and points her wand upwards. Sirius twirls his wand into his palm and leaps from the windowsill, as Remus does the same.
This is what he loves – heat, speed, danger, excitement. As curses rebound off the walls and the dim blue glow of hastily thrown shield charms illuminate the dim alley, Sirius whirls and dodges, the grin still on his face, the occasional barking laugh escaping him when he scores a hit on one of the Death Eaters.
From the other side of the alley, where he’s locked in combat with the shortest of their three opponents, the one who spotted them first, Remus shouts, “Keep your head, Sirius!”
“Always, Remus!” Sirius laughs, as he sends the tallest Death Eater tumbling into a trash bin.
Another moment, and the third Death Eater also turns on Remus, leaving Sirius to engage the woman. One of his spells barely misses her head, and the gust of wind accompanying knocks her hood back. With an angry yowl, she tears the mask from her face and whirls back to face him --
Tumbling raven curls that cascade to her waist. Aristocratically high cheekbones and finely sculpted features. Eyes the same colour as the moonless sky, set beneath elegant dark eyebrows. A long, delicate neck that disappears beneath the sleek black robes. Blood-red lips, slightly parted and full as ever.
Her thick black eyelashes startle open for the briefest of seconds, and they both pause momentarily. Sirius can’t help but gape. He knew, of course, has always known where her loyalties lay, but... somehow, so far, they had managed to avoid encountering each other in battle. He sees, for a moment, the breath catch in her throat, a look that might be regret in her eyes --
And then the blast hits him. He hadn’t seen her move her wand, but even as he crashes into the wall behind him, he sees her dash to her fallen companion and grab his wrist. “Come on! There are probably more! Let’s get out of here!”
Even through the crimson haze and yellow sparks flashing in front of his eyes, and the flashes of pain radiating from the back of his head where it hit the bricks, Sirius can see their forms disappear into the night. Remus jogs over, pushing his hair back from his face. “I think they’ve really gone... we should stay to make sure...” With a sigh, he looks down at Sirius. “I told you to keep your head.”
“You knew it was her?” Sirius says, sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck. Remus nods. “Dammit, Remus, why the hell didn’t you—"
“She could’ve killed you, Sirius,” Remus says simply. “Could’ve, when you were standing there gawking. Could’ve.” He sighs again. “And didn’t.”
