Jennifer (hiddenhibiscus) wrote in hplyric,

Title: Fairground
Author: hiddenhibiscus
Rating: PG-13
Notes: The lovely tortietta chose the song ‘Fairground’ by Simply Red which I’d not heard before but am so glad she did, very evocative. Thanks to my DH (ka_mau) for dilligently finding this after I lost it, and hugs to dorotea for maintaining my mental state, and to cynthia_black for giving me the song file when I couldn't find it on iTunes.

“Let me show you,” she said as she reached out and touched my arm. Her eyes shone brighter than last I saw her twelve months ago. “Let me show you why we can’t stop living.”

Her letters never indicated this transformation in her, or perhaps I’d not wanted to see it. I found more comfort in the thought that we were both unable to move forward. I’d see her in my mind, long wet strands of hair framing her wet brown eyes. Sorrow was all I could read in her letters, but now I realize; she’s done grieving.

“Let me show you that the world is still magical,” she said as she coaxed me down the street like a reluctant puppy. She tugged my hand, giving encouraging nods and murmurs of approval. Heel. I felt as if I was watching from afar, oddly fascinated by the vibrant graduate student and the sullen professor.

I paused as we reached her car. Opening the driver’s door, she frowned, trying to assess my hesitation.

“It’s a car. We, muggles, use them for transportation,” she said with a cynical grin.

I let my breath out in a laugh and shook my head at her. Obediently, I got in and shut the door. She drove, and I rode, unrolling the window. She glanced at me and nodded. “Good idea.” Good Boy. There we were, our matching brown hair blowing in the rush of wind. She studiously watched the endless road, I fought the urge to stick my head out the window.

She stopped an hour and a half later. Her face and arms sun-kissed by the long drive in the setting sun. “Let me show you, Remus, the world is still full of color and light.” I doubted it. “Let’s go,” she commanded. I went.

The smell of the sea had crept up on us in the car, but standing seaside, it was strong enough to ease the knot in my chest and I inhaled deeply. She gave a nod of approval and reached for my hand. I followed her up the strand to a wildly lit seaside fair.

Music and lights swirled around us. I held her hand tightly in the crowd, she was my anchor in a rough sea. The smell of food took over my long-numbed senses and I must have made some indescribable sound of hunger because she looked back, eyes brightly reflecting the dazzling lights and said, “Let me show you that life still tastes wonderful.”

We ate hotdogs as we walked, and I began to find her just as interesting as the people around us. Her hair twirled around her head in slow motion as she’d turn and point something or someone out. “Let me show you so many interesting things worth your attention.” Twelve months of healing, of living and growing, and she had become a woman, worthy of my attention.

We found a bench after a time and watched the people moving about. She seemed to find so much delight in watching the crowds, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her and the setting sun. The warmth of the day diminished as a cool breeze chilled our pink skin.

“Let’s dance,” she declared. I realized at that moment I was there to do her bidding and stood. I led. I held. And then--I held tighter. Her body was warm and her skin glowed in the lights, warm with the heat of the day and something else. Steering her body was an effortless pleasure. Her breath was moist on my reddened neck, and her scent sparked with undertones of brandy and roses.

We walked evenly through the endless booths and attractions. Side-stepping children with their parents and lovers too involved to notice where they were going. I forced her to stop in front of a small tent which said, “Delilah Trelawney, Palmistry.” We both were bent over with fits of giggles. Catching our breath, she looked at me through searching eyes. “Let me….”

“No, Hermione,” I said, “Let me show you something.” I pulled her hand and we walked through an old fashioned freak show. My wolf was pleased. Raw humanity, flawed and needy was on display. She held tightly and I felt a small growl of contentment emerge from my throat.

We were starved. Again. We ate cockles and oysters with waffles. Hordes of them. As we finished, the fairground lights dimmed one by one. The crowd thinned, and the tents closed.

“Let me show you who I’ve become,” she said almost asking my permission. I nodded, I wanted to know.

We left the fair and walked further away from her car to the University. “My flat is just up this block.” How did I miss the fact that she’d taken me into her new home? It was a walk-up two blocks north of the beach. I could smell her confidence wavering as she brought me in and took my coat.

Her place was neat, with bright white walls and pictures…pictures everywhere. I turned away quickly from Harry and Ron in their Quidditch uniforms and saw her approach with a whisky.

“No. No thank you.” Her eyes searched mine and then motioned me to a couch. Sit. But I couldn’t. I wanted to search her flat for clues, see how she’d done it, how she’d rid herself of her demons so I could do the same. But everywhere I looked were pictures. Silence filled her flat as I turned again and forced myself to look at them. They were everywhere, Weasleys, Harry, Sirius, Albus, Tonks….

It was too much. I’d only allowed room for a single emotion for so long, and tonight I’d felt much more. My eyes stung. I was on my knees before I could stop myself and whimpered like a wounded animal. She dropped her tea towel and ran to me. We knelt, and clung, and sobbed. The tears stung my sun-burnt cheeks. We spilled ourselves onto the parquet, draining ourselves of the anguish, the remorse, and that damned unfulfilled longing for those that could no longer make us feel whole.

When it was quiet, we smoothed the wet hair from each other’s faces. I stood and raised her up in my arms. I whispered small consolations against her forehead. She met my eyes with pain, and strength, and no small amount of desire. I took her hand and led her to her room and smiled into her shining eyes. My hand wove into her hair, relishing its softness. We danced again, with warm skin and moist lashes and soft wet tongues. The rhythm of the lights had followed us home.

Artist: Simply Red
Album: Life
Title: Fairground
Words and music by Mick Hucknall

Driving down an endless road
Taking friends or moving alone
Pleasure at the fairground on the way

It's always friends that feel so good
Let's make amends like all good men should
Pleasure at the fairground on the way

Walk around, be free and roam
There's always someone leaving alone
Pleasure at the fairground on the way

And I love the thought of coming home to you
Even if I know we can't make it
I love the thought of giving hope to you
Just a little ray of light shining through

Love can bend and breathe alone
Until the end it finds you a home
Don't care what the people may say

It's always friends that feel so good
Let's make amends like all good men should
Pleasure at the fairground on the way

And I love the thought of coming home to you
Even if I know we can't make it
I love the thought of giving hope to you
Just a little ray of light shining through
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