Gone Wrong

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Remus woke before Sirius did on the morning after the full moon. 

There was very little mess to clear up, amazingly little wounds to heal and mend. Remus didn't see anything on Sirius, and two sets of deep tears on his arms this month. He slid his way from under the weight of Sirius in his dog form and found his way out of the forrest room in the Howling House and located where James had proudly shown him the first aid kit, filled with magical and muggle supplies. He used his teeth to tie off a bandage around his upper arm. 

He was sore all over, and limped back to where Sirius lay, pausing only long enough to pluck his sketch pad from the arm of the couch on his way back. He sat down, back resting against Snuffle's strong side, laying his sketch pad across his lap, Sirius's eyes staring up at him from the parchment pad. He hadn't gotten any further than the eyes and a couple strands of his hair, coming down around the sides of a vaguely outlined forehead...

Remus sighed and lay his hand on the dog's head, softly stroking his ears, and the dog nuzzled closer in his sleep, nose making the snuffling sound that he was named for, Remus reckoned.

He'd imagined taking a drawing class once, when he was younger, after Dumbledore had paid him to do the illustrations for Nicholas Flamel's book. It had meant a very good deal to him, getting to do that job, not only because he'd earned the money to purchase the record player for Sirius out of the muggle catalog, but also because it was such an honor to have done it. He wondered if the book was in the library at Hogwarts, and why it was only now, so many years later, that it was occurring to him to go and have a look to see his illustrations in print. One day, when he was next given the opportunity to be at Hogwarts - perhaps someday soon as a teacher, he hoped, or maybe one of the times James went he could tag along - and he'd go to the library and have a look. Of course he could always pop by Flourish and Blott's, but somehow it seemed like it was the sort of thing that ought to be done at Hogwarts - he wasn't sure why.

But he hadn't done hardly any real drawing since then, other than the Marauders Map, and every now and then just for fun he'd draw some small cartoony looking thing at the bottom of letters or on napkins to entertain Sirius while they waited for food at restaurants, things like that. The idea of taking a class always seemed frivilous and something that wasn't entirely neccessary. It wasn't like he was going to make a living off drawing or anything, so why bother taking a class?

He looked at Sirius's eyes on the pad before him. There was something missing from them, something he couldn't quite put his mind on, something that kept them from being right. They were nice, but only just alright, really, and it was frustrating him that he couldn't make them come alive. The same problem had happened with the portrait of Regulus that Sirius wouldn't stop going on about. Remus had been frustrated by the curve of Regulus's mouth even more than his eyes, though... However much Sirius said the portrait was exactly Regulus, Remus knew there was something wrong with the mouth that he hadn't gotten just right. Something about the shading, and it was some skill he didn't have that could save it, if only he could learn how to see it for what it was.

Perhaps that's what the art class was for.

So he could see where he had gone wrong.




James was asleep in the chair beside his mother, his hand clinging onto hers, though the rest of him was splayed in a position that could not possibly be comfortable. He was draped diagonally over the chair, one leg up over the arm of it, his other arm over the back, head using the second arm as a pillow, mouth wide opened... Dora was asleep, a small bubble charm over her mouth to collect and measure the methane in her breath fluttered softly as she breathed. They'd done a scale removal and scheduled a flintectomy for later that day.

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