thedeadparrot (thedeadparrot) wrote,
thedeadparrot
thedeadparrot

FIC: Minutiae

Ok, so I figured that I should post my random steaming piles of crap that I label "fiction" in my journal as well as other communities, if only for posterity.

Title: Minutiae
Author: thedeadparrot
Pairing:S/R, duh.
Rating: PG, not much stuff.
Spoilers: Through GoF
Disclaimer: I make no claims (or money) on the characters, situation and other stuff in this fic. It’s all J.K. Rowling’s.
Summary: A day in the life.
Feedback: Hit me with your best shot.
Notes: This is my first HP fic. Written in a weirdly experimental style. You really don't want to know the geekiness that inspired this. Nope.
Thanks to librae for looking this over and giving me heaping loads of encouragement.


Your day goes like this:
You wake up. You go to work. You come home. You fall asleep.




Your day goes like this:
You wake up late, almost an hour after you needed to. You go to work in something of a rush, and manage to make it just in time. You come home after work beat and tired; it's been a long day. You fall asleep soundly that night.




Your day goes like this:
You wake up late, almost an hour after you needed to. Breakfast is a quick biscuit and a glass of milk (no time for tea, and you sorely miss the caffeine). Half an hour after you wake up, you're out the door.

You go to work in something of a rush, and manage to make it just in time. Your boss gives you a disapproving look, but there's very little he can do. You simply give him a mild, complacent smile, and start pulling books off the shelves with your usual deliberation.

You come home after work beat and tired; it's been a long day. A customer yelled at you for not being able to direct him to the travel section, after you politely told them that this bookstore specialized in rare books and didn't have a travel section. You heat up dinner with what little energy you have, mumbling the words in a way that might have been dangerous spoken by a first year.

There's some work Dumbledore asked you to do on the side. He offered it as an optional assignment, but you know it was mostly symbolic. You owe him so much. It's a relief when you actually have time to collapse onto your bed. You fall asleep soundly that night.




Your day goes like this:
You wake up late, almost an hour after you needed to. You half jump out of bed and pull on your robes. It’s close to the full moon, and despite your tendency to sleep in on these days, the wolf’s energy simmers under the surface of your skin.

Breakfast is a quick biscuit and a glass of milk (no time for tea, and you sorely miss the caffeine). You miss the breakfasts at Hogwarts, lavish and warm. You miss the chatter of talking students and the sounds of flapping wings. Half an hour after you wake up, you're out the door.

You go to work in something of a rush, and manage to make it just in time. The bell on the door shouts as you push through and walk inside.

"Oi! Good morning, you poof. A little gentler next time!" it demands. You apologize quickly, and hope you haven’t put into a foul mood for the rest of the day.

Your boss gives you a disapproving look, but there's very little he can do. You simply give him a mild, complacent smile, and start pulling books off the shelves with your usual deliberation. Today, you’re to go over the inventory in the morning, and handle the customers in the afternoon.

You come home after work beat and tired; it's been a long day. The store was missing a few books and, of course, the blame fell on you. The bell continued to insult customers as they walked in. Your boss blamed you for that too.

A customer yelled at you for not being able to direct him to the travel section, after you politely told them that this bookstore specialized in rare books and didn't have a travel section.

"You really should," the customer said as he stormed out. He slammed the door. The bell didn’t really appreciate that, though he did yell a hearty “I hope you don’t die next week!” after the retreating back.

You heat up dinner with what little energy you have, mumbling the words in a way that might have been dangerous spoken by a first year. The food is filling, but rather tasteless. You’re still happy just to have it.

There's some work Dumbledore asked you to do on the side. He offered it as an optional assignment, but you know it was mostly symbolic. You owe him so much. He didn’t mention what it was in detail, but that someone would be paying you a visit with some news. You aren’t thrilled, but it doesn’t seem like that much of a burden.

There’s a knock on the door. You open it only to be crushed in a warm hug.

"Sirius," you say.

"Remus," he says.

"This is a bit of a surprise."

"I know." He chuckles a bit at the understatement.

You feel at ease for the first time today, and pull Sirius into a kiss.

"Well," you say after you pull back, "you need to shower and brush your teeth."

He smiles. "Are you offering, Moony?"

"Maybe." You smile back and lead him upstairs.

You fall asleep soundly that night.
Tags: fic, hp, slash
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