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katilara
TITLE: Ignorance
RATING: PG-13, I think
WORD COUNT: 2,465
WARNINGS: Homophobia…?
NOTES: Written formoonanddogstar’s AIDS challenge. I hope it’s alright. Thank you also to my beta, marilla82, for indulging me and putting up with my crap, even though she's had her own trying week. *hugs*
Crossposted: …to hell?![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
remusxsirius, moonanddogstar, katilara, and Immeritus.
Sirius was staring into his coffee in a way that made Remus uncomfortable. In Remus' opinion, coffee didn't require that much attention. Or any at all really as long as you could get a good cup of tea. Sirius drummed his fingers along the hard white sides of his cup, punctuating the silence. Each small noise drew a small shudder from Remus.
"Sirius."
drum drum drum
"Yeah?"
drum drum drum
"Is there something apocalyptic swirling in your coffee?"
"Not any more apocalyptic than usual."
"Umm..." Remus found himself uncharacteristically out of questions.
"Remus, there are people dying."
"Tends to happen during a war." Remus took a sip of his tea. It scalded his tongue but he was grateful to it for adding some feeling to the current void.
Sirius stopped drumming and looked up. "No..." he said slowly. "There are people dying of something else. Something not even St. Mungo’s can cure and uhh..." He wiped the sweat off of his upper lip. "It scares me."
"Well, there's plenty to be afraid of these days, but you know you can talk to me if you like."
"I know, I'm just trying to figure out what to say."
"Alright then," Remus pushed his chair away from the table. "When you figure it out let me know, yeah?"
"Alright," Sirius said noncommittally.
Remus left the kitchen and threw on his coat, opening the door. The words 'I love you' floated out to him as he closed it behind him.
---
Sitting at his desk in the Department of Mysteries Remus was trying to concentrate on his work. Try being the operative word as his colleagues had spent most of the morning stopping by a nearby desk to talk about an apparent plague.
"I heard he got it from a muggle."
"This is why you shouldn't spend too much time with them. Myself, I won't even eat after them. Never can tell how clean utensils are without magic."
"Oh! Oh no dear, I think you misunderstood."
It was quiet for a moment. Remus was lulled into a false sense of productivity. He even started a sentence.
"That can't be!" squeeled the Witch Who Wouldn't Dine With Muggles. Remus' quill slipped across the page, almost as disturbed by the outburst as he was. "Is that even possible? With another man I mean."
"I don't know. It's shameful, and if you ask me he deserves it. St. Mungo’s shouldn't even waste time searching for a cure. If there's anyone the Wizarding World needs to be rid of it's blighters like that."
Remus dropped his quill. He might have liked to hear the reply, but he was already out the door.
---
Remus leaned against a light pole catching his breath and looking around for Sirius. He ate lunch at the same place every day, it shouldn't be too hard to find him. But where was he? A tall dark haired man tumbled out of a shop, clutching a paper to his chest.
"Sirius!" Remus ran down the street after his lover feeling surprisingly drained. Werewolves usually had more endurance than humans. "Sirius!" Remus caught up to him outside of a small cafe. Sirius turned to face him. Grateful, Remus leaned over and propped his hands on his knees panting. "Wh-what's going on?"
Sirius gazed at him for a moment before pulling the folded muggle paper from under his arm and handing it to Remus.
"You stay out here; I'll be back in a minute with a bit of lunch." He turned on his heel and disappeared inside, his face never acknowledging Remus' frazzledness. Remus threw the paper on the closest table and pulled out a chair, raking his hands through his hair. He identified the feeling he was having as bewilderment, but having never felt that way before he didn’t know how to deal. He sat for a moment, watching the people walk by, before he grabbed the paper off the table and opened it.
Mysterious Illness Claims More Lives
At first all he could relate the headline to was the killings the Death Eaters had been performing with silent ferocity. Had they been slipping people potions? Was there a hex to make someone die slowly? Just what is this, and what did it have to do with the conversation at the Department? His runaway train of thought was interrupted when Sirius placed a small plate in front of him. Remus looked over the paper at his lover.
“What is this?”
Sirius made himself busy for a few moments, setting out cups and rearranging his plate before finally taking a sip of his tea and looking Remus in the eye.
“It’s hitting bloody close to home is what it is.” He swirled his finger around the top of his cup. Sirius Black did not fidget, except that he’d been fidgeting all morning. A fidgeting Sirius Black meant something was very, very wrong.
“Well, would you like to explain why?”
“No,” Sirius answered and looked away from table. Across the street a young couple was looking into a shop window, leaning in to each other and laughing. Sirius felt farther away from Remus than he really was. Forced to sit on the opposite side of the table and not show affection in public, he was angry at them for being so happy. He was angry with people for being so ignorant. Remus was watching him, waiting for an explanation. He deserved an explanation.
“Alright then,” Remus said and began fiddling with the pastry Sirius had brought him. It wasn’t quite adequate enough for lunch, but he had the feeling that very soon he wouldn’t want to be eating at all.
“You remember Dermot? He was captain of our Quidditch team second year when James and I joined.”
“Handsome bloke right? Dark hair, blue eyes. Kind of like you actually, only shorter. I think that’s why I noticed him at all.”
“Yeah, I had the same feeling except I didn’t know why. I didn’t do anything about it but I didn’t complain either that he treated me differently than the other players.”
“How differently?”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter. It was years ago Moony. What matters is what happened two years ago after I had already started seeing you.”
Remus’ face didn’t show anything, and that scared Sirius more than fury. He hadn’t ever expected to tell him about what happened but it seemed as if circumstance was taunting him with it. After all, he was a Gryffindor for a reason. Sirius took a deep breath.
“Here,” he handed a second paper Remus hadn’t noticed before across the table. Recognizing it as the Prophet, Remus leaned over and shielded its view with the edge of the table so the passing muggles wouldn’t see the moving pictures.
On the front page was a picture of Dermot in his Wimbourne Wasps robes. He was smiling and waving but something haunted his eyes. The article was short and perfunctory. It explained that Dermot had died of a mysterious illness three days prior and that it’s possible he could have contracted it from sexual relations with a male muggle.
“Shite.”
“Exactly,” Sirius had leaned forward to study Remus as he read. Remus looked up into his face, their noses closer than they probably should be.
“What does this have to do with 6th year?”
Sirius fidgeted some more and swallowed some tea before leaning back in. He didn’t want to be overheard.
“Remember when we weren’t speaking 6th year?”
Remus nodded. The business with The Prank had put him out of joint as far as Sirius was concerned for months.
“Well, I sort of met up with Dermot again in Hogsmeade. I wasn’t supposed to be there, I had changed form and wandered down, wallowing in my self-pity and my lack of you. I was just leaning against a tree when he saw me, barely dressed for the cold. Dermot took me into the Three Broomsticks where he had a room and lent me a jumper before taking me downstairs to have a few and catch up.” Sirius sighed, remembering details he didn’t think were proper to remember. The way Dermot’s hair had fallen into his eyes, and how strong his arms had felt around his shoulder. A man was dead and all he could remember were his hands, the features of his body that had been warm and open. This had to be wrong.
“And, you did more than catch up I’d wager?” Remus was still unreadable.
“Yes, but not much more,” he added hastily. “We were pissed and he told me that he’d always liked me and couldn’t we just go upstairs for a while and get to know each other better. I’m not proud but I was angry, and sloshed, so I followed him.”
Remus finally cracked, wincing. Sirius knew he would be an adult about it, because that’s who Remus Lupin was, but he didn’t want to be responsible for the pain he might feel later.
“We didn’t do anything really. He tried, but I just couldn’t. All I did was kiss him, and we, we caressed each other some. I regained my senses when he uh, licked me. I didn’t start crying or anything but I felt like it. All I could think of was you.”
“That’s sweet Sirius, really.” Remus’ voice indicated anything but, but his manner didn’t change. “But what does this have to do with the articles? Were you the one who killed him?”
“What? No! I just…Dermot was sick when he saw me only he didn’t know it. He had already contracted this mystery illness from another man, something I didn’t find out until later. The reason he was in Hogsmeade that night was because they’d had a fight and he couldn’t stay at the flat they had shared. We were both just in a weird place.”
“Yes,” Remus mused. “I suppose a room in the Three Broomsticks with a male quidditch star is a weird place to be.”
Sirius frowned. He didn’t know which bothered him more, the fact that Remus was being so flippant about the indiscretion or the fact that it was making it hard on him personally. How do you say this out loud?
“Remus, I was worried this morning because I knew I had to tell you this, and well, I still haven’t figured out how…”
“You think you’ve made me sick.”
Sirius played with a bit of pastry, pulling it apart and spreading it in equal intervals over the small plate. How disgusting of him it was, to assume that he deserved to eat when other people were dying. How disgusting of him it was to hurt Remus.
“Sirius, I don’t think that’s possible. We’ve been uhh, together, for about a year and a half since you’d seen him last. I would have noticed it trying to happen. You know my,” he looked around at the muggles and lowered his voice. “…metabolism wouldn’t have let something that massive go unnoticed. I would have felt it trying to work on me. I always feel it. Besides, for me to catch it that means you would have had to have it, and like I said, it’s been a year and a half. Nothing has happened to you Sirius, stop worrying.”
“But, he had it for years before he knew. I’m not like you, I’m human. My immune system can be lethargic, even dormant from time to time. Sometimes, I think you’re lucky.”
“Sirius, you don’t know what lucky is.” Remus snapped. People at other tables eyed the boys with their heads together warily. “Let’s get out of here,” he whispered harshly.
Remus stood and Sirius followed his lead. They walked, Remus with his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat and Sirius a step behind him, trying to keep up with his clip. They ended up in a park a few blocks from their flat where Remus liked to walk Padfoot. Or rather, where Padfoot liked to walk Remus. Sirius wished he could change, but that was escapism. It wasn’t appropriate to just leave Remus alone like that.
Remus stopped abruptly and Sirius ran into his back, which pushed Remus forward causing his foot to come down on a flower. They both looked at it as Remus pulled his foot back. It lay in the grass, crumpled but still vibrant. There, under the tree where Remus liked to think while Padfoot chased the geese, was a small memorial to Dermot. His picture surrounded by flowers in various bunches, suggesting they had been left by different admirers.
Dermot McCuhal
1955 – 1978
Cause of Death: Unknown
Someone had scratched out ‘unkown’ and written ‘Gay Plague’ under it in red letters that seemed to be fighting against the bonds of the black and white photo.
Remus had his head bowed and Sirius was looking up into the branches of the tree. Neither of them wanted to speak. Speaking required thought, in most cases, and neither of them wanted to think.
“I know you’re not sick,” Remus said at length. “I know because my body would have known. The wolf would have sensed it in Padfoot. Sometimes, I can almost feel the way your body works under your skin when I touch you, when I touch anyone. When I first realized that it startled me, but now I’m just used to it. It's how I knew you had that cold last week.”
Sirius grinned a little, up at the sky. A feeling of love settled over him and a tear slipped out of his eye, glad to know that people had loved Dermot too.
“I always thought that was uncanny of you.” He was still standing slightly behind Remus, he leaned forward, resting his forehead on Remus’ shoulder. “Do you really think there’s a--a gay plague?”
“I don’t think disease knows those sorts of boundaries Sirius. I think there are ignorant, scared people trying very hard not to shoulder a responsibility. I think that the future holds some dark times. But then, you knew that.” He shrugged his shoulder, hitting Sirius lightly on the forehead.
“Yeah,” Sirius said. “I knew that.”
“Well then, let’s get on with it. We can’t just wait for the future to come to us.” Remus turned and started away. Sirius stood for a moment longer. He picked up the flower Remus had stepped on and placed it back with its brothers. Then, looking around, he pulled out his wand and quickly erased the red lettering from the picture. Sirius knew he couldn’t change how people felt, knew that if he tried he wouldn't be any better than the Death Eaters. But he felt a sense of pride in knowing that he could do what he could, one situation at a time.
katilaraTITLE: Ignorance
RATING: PG-13, I think
WORD COUNT: 2,465
WARNINGS: Homophobia…?
NOTES: Written for
moonanddogstar’s AIDS challenge. I hope it’s alright. Thank you also to my beta, marilla82, for indulging me and putting up with my crap, even though she's had her own trying week. *hugs* Crossposted: …to hell?
remusxsirius, moonanddogstar, katilara, and Immeritus. Sirius was staring into his coffee in a way that made Remus uncomfortable. In Remus' opinion, coffee didn't require that much attention. Or any at all really as long as you could get a good cup of tea. Sirius drummed his fingers along the hard white sides of his cup, punctuating the silence. Each small noise drew a small shudder from Remus.
"Sirius."
drum drum drum
"Yeah?"
drum drum drum
"Is there something apocalyptic swirling in your coffee?"
"Not any more apocalyptic than usual."
"Umm..." Remus found himself uncharacteristically out of questions.
"Remus, there are people dying."
"Tends to happen during a war." Remus took a sip of his tea. It scalded his tongue but he was grateful to it for adding some feeling to the current void.
Sirius stopped drumming and looked up. "No..." he said slowly. "There are people dying of something else. Something not even St. Mungo’s can cure and uhh..." He wiped the sweat off of his upper lip. "It scares me."
"Well, there's plenty to be afraid of these days, but you know you can talk to me if you like."
"I know, I'm just trying to figure out what to say."
"Alright then," Remus pushed his chair away from the table. "When you figure it out let me know, yeah?"
"Alright," Sirius said noncommittally.
Remus left the kitchen and threw on his coat, opening the door. The words 'I love you' floated out to him as he closed it behind him.
---
Sitting at his desk in the Department of Mysteries Remus was trying to concentrate on his work. Try being the operative word as his colleagues had spent most of the morning stopping by a nearby desk to talk about an apparent plague.
"I heard he got it from a muggle."
"This is why you shouldn't spend too much time with them. Myself, I won't even eat after them. Never can tell how clean utensils are without magic."
"Oh! Oh no dear, I think you misunderstood."
It was quiet for a moment. Remus was lulled into a false sense of productivity. He even started a sentence.
"That can't be!" squeeled the Witch Who Wouldn't Dine With Muggles. Remus' quill slipped across the page, almost as disturbed by the outburst as he was. "Is that even possible? With another man I mean."
"I don't know. It's shameful, and if you ask me he deserves it. St. Mungo’s shouldn't even waste time searching for a cure. If there's anyone the Wizarding World needs to be rid of it's blighters like that."
Remus dropped his quill. He might have liked to hear the reply, but he was already out the door.
---
Remus leaned against a light pole catching his breath and looking around for Sirius. He ate lunch at the same place every day, it shouldn't be too hard to find him. But where was he? A tall dark haired man tumbled out of a shop, clutching a paper to his chest.
"Sirius!" Remus ran down the street after his lover feeling surprisingly drained. Werewolves usually had more endurance than humans. "Sirius!" Remus caught up to him outside of a small cafe. Sirius turned to face him. Grateful, Remus leaned over and propped his hands on his knees panting. "Wh-what's going on?"
Sirius gazed at him for a moment before pulling the folded muggle paper from under his arm and handing it to Remus.
"You stay out here; I'll be back in a minute with a bit of lunch." He turned on his heel and disappeared inside, his face never acknowledging Remus' frazzledness. Remus threw the paper on the closest table and pulled out a chair, raking his hands through his hair. He identified the feeling he was having as bewilderment, but having never felt that way before he didn’t know how to deal. He sat for a moment, watching the people walk by, before he grabbed the paper off the table and opened it.
Mysterious Illness Claims More Lives
At first all he could relate the headline to was the killings the Death Eaters had been performing with silent ferocity. Had they been slipping people potions? Was there a hex to make someone die slowly? Just what is this, and what did it have to do with the conversation at the Department? His runaway train of thought was interrupted when Sirius placed a small plate in front of him. Remus looked over the paper at his lover.
“What is this?”
Sirius made himself busy for a few moments, setting out cups and rearranging his plate before finally taking a sip of his tea and looking Remus in the eye.
“It’s hitting bloody close to home is what it is.” He swirled his finger around the top of his cup. Sirius Black did not fidget, except that he’d been fidgeting all morning. A fidgeting Sirius Black meant something was very, very wrong.
“Well, would you like to explain why?”
“No,” Sirius answered and looked away from table. Across the street a young couple was looking into a shop window, leaning in to each other and laughing. Sirius felt farther away from Remus than he really was. Forced to sit on the opposite side of the table and not show affection in public, he was angry at them for being so happy. He was angry with people for being so ignorant. Remus was watching him, waiting for an explanation. He deserved an explanation.
“Alright then,” Remus said and began fiddling with the pastry Sirius had brought him. It wasn’t quite adequate enough for lunch, but he had the feeling that very soon he wouldn’t want to be eating at all.
“You remember Dermot? He was captain of our Quidditch team second year when James and I joined.”
“Handsome bloke right? Dark hair, blue eyes. Kind of like you actually, only shorter. I think that’s why I noticed him at all.”
“Yeah, I had the same feeling except I didn’t know why. I didn’t do anything about it but I didn’t complain either that he treated me differently than the other players.”
“How differently?”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter. It was years ago Moony. What matters is what happened two years ago after I had already started seeing you.”
Remus’ face didn’t show anything, and that scared Sirius more than fury. He hadn’t ever expected to tell him about what happened but it seemed as if circumstance was taunting him with it. After all, he was a Gryffindor for a reason. Sirius took a deep breath.
“Here,” he handed a second paper Remus hadn’t noticed before across the table. Recognizing it as the Prophet, Remus leaned over and shielded its view with the edge of the table so the passing muggles wouldn’t see the moving pictures.
On the front page was a picture of Dermot in his Wimbourne Wasps robes. He was smiling and waving but something haunted his eyes. The article was short and perfunctory. It explained that Dermot had died of a mysterious illness three days prior and that it’s possible he could have contracted it from sexual relations with a male muggle.
“Shite.”
“Exactly,” Sirius had leaned forward to study Remus as he read. Remus looked up into his face, their noses closer than they probably should be.
“What does this have to do with 6th year?”
Sirius fidgeted some more and swallowed some tea before leaning back in. He didn’t want to be overheard.
“Remember when we weren’t speaking 6th year?”
Remus nodded. The business with The Prank had put him out of joint as far as Sirius was concerned for months.
“Well, I sort of met up with Dermot again in Hogsmeade. I wasn’t supposed to be there, I had changed form and wandered down, wallowing in my self-pity and my lack of you. I was just leaning against a tree when he saw me, barely dressed for the cold. Dermot took me into the Three Broomsticks where he had a room and lent me a jumper before taking me downstairs to have a few and catch up.” Sirius sighed, remembering details he didn’t think were proper to remember. The way Dermot’s hair had fallen into his eyes, and how strong his arms had felt around his shoulder. A man was dead and all he could remember were his hands, the features of his body that had been warm and open. This had to be wrong.
“And, you did more than catch up I’d wager?” Remus was still unreadable.
“Yes, but not much more,” he added hastily. “We were pissed and he told me that he’d always liked me and couldn’t we just go upstairs for a while and get to know each other better. I’m not proud but I was angry, and sloshed, so I followed him.”
Remus finally cracked, wincing. Sirius knew he would be an adult about it, because that’s who Remus Lupin was, but he didn’t want to be responsible for the pain he might feel later.
“We didn’t do anything really. He tried, but I just couldn’t. All I did was kiss him, and we, we caressed each other some. I regained my senses when he uh, licked me. I didn’t start crying or anything but I felt like it. All I could think of was you.”
“That’s sweet Sirius, really.” Remus’ voice indicated anything but, but his manner didn’t change. “But what does this have to do with the articles? Were you the one who killed him?”
“What? No! I just…Dermot was sick when he saw me only he didn’t know it. He had already contracted this mystery illness from another man, something I didn’t find out until later. The reason he was in Hogsmeade that night was because they’d had a fight and he couldn’t stay at the flat they had shared. We were both just in a weird place.”
“Yes,” Remus mused. “I suppose a room in the Three Broomsticks with a male quidditch star is a weird place to be.”
Sirius frowned. He didn’t know which bothered him more, the fact that Remus was being so flippant about the indiscretion or the fact that it was making it hard on him personally. How do you say this out loud?
“Remus, I was worried this morning because I knew I had to tell you this, and well, I still haven’t figured out how…”
“You think you’ve made me sick.”
Sirius played with a bit of pastry, pulling it apart and spreading it in equal intervals over the small plate. How disgusting of him it was, to assume that he deserved to eat when other people were dying. How disgusting of him it was to hurt Remus.
“Sirius, I don’t think that’s possible. We’ve been uhh, together, for about a year and a half since you’d seen him last. I would have noticed it trying to happen. You know my,” he looked around at the muggles and lowered his voice. “…metabolism wouldn’t have let something that massive go unnoticed. I would have felt it trying to work on me. I always feel it. Besides, for me to catch it that means you would have had to have it, and like I said, it’s been a year and a half. Nothing has happened to you Sirius, stop worrying.”
“But, he had it for years before he knew. I’m not like you, I’m human. My immune system can be lethargic, even dormant from time to time. Sometimes, I think you’re lucky.”
“Sirius, you don’t know what lucky is.” Remus snapped. People at other tables eyed the boys with their heads together warily. “Let’s get out of here,” he whispered harshly.
Remus stood and Sirius followed his lead. They walked, Remus with his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat and Sirius a step behind him, trying to keep up with his clip. They ended up in a park a few blocks from their flat where Remus liked to walk Padfoot. Or rather, where Padfoot liked to walk Remus. Sirius wished he could change, but that was escapism. It wasn’t appropriate to just leave Remus alone like that.
Remus stopped abruptly and Sirius ran into his back, which pushed Remus forward causing his foot to come down on a flower. They both looked at it as Remus pulled his foot back. It lay in the grass, crumpled but still vibrant. There, under the tree where Remus liked to think while Padfoot chased the geese, was a small memorial to Dermot. His picture surrounded by flowers in various bunches, suggesting they had been left by different admirers.
Dermot McCuhal
1955 – 1978
Cause of Death: Unknown
Someone had scratched out ‘unkown’ and written ‘Gay Plague’ under it in red letters that seemed to be fighting against the bonds of the black and white photo.
Remus had his head bowed and Sirius was looking up into the branches of the tree. Neither of them wanted to speak. Speaking required thought, in most cases, and neither of them wanted to think.
“I know you’re not sick,” Remus said at length. “I know because my body would have known. The wolf would have sensed it in Padfoot. Sometimes, I can almost feel the way your body works under your skin when I touch you, when I touch anyone. When I first realized that it startled me, but now I’m just used to it. It's how I knew you had that cold last week.”
Sirius grinned a little, up at the sky. A feeling of love settled over him and a tear slipped out of his eye, glad to know that people had loved Dermot too.
“I always thought that was uncanny of you.” He was still standing slightly behind Remus, he leaned forward, resting his forehead on Remus’ shoulder. “Do you really think there’s a--a gay plague?”
“I don’t think disease knows those sorts of boundaries Sirius. I think there are ignorant, scared people trying very hard not to shoulder a responsibility. I think that the future holds some dark times. But then, you knew that.” He shrugged his shoulder, hitting Sirius lightly on the forehead.
“Yeah,” Sirius said. “I knew that.”
“Well then, let’s get on with it. We can’t just wait for the future to come to us.” Remus turned and started away. Sirius stood for a moment longer. He picked up the flower Remus had stepped on and placed it back with its brothers. Then, looking around, he pulled out his wand and quickly erased the red lettering from the picture. Sirius knew he couldn’t change how people felt, knew that if he tried he wouldn't be any better than the Death Eaters. But he felt a sense of pride in knowing that he could do what he could, one situation at a time.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2005-02-22 05:58 am (UTC)*snogs you wildly in hopes of getting some brilliance rubbed off on me*
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Date: 2005-02-22 11:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-22 12:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-22 12:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-22 06:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-22 12:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-22 08:37 am (UTC)I do say, that was very well done.
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Date: 2005-02-22 12:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-22 01:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-22 08:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-22 01:51 pm (UTC)*standing ovation*
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Date: 2005-02-22 08:59 pm (UTC)Hehe, thanks!
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Date: 2005-02-22 10:41 pm (UTC)That was absolutely brilliant! You've really captured the fear and prejudice which surrounded the emergence of AIDS. The dialogue is believable and Sirius' and Remus' reactions are perfectly observed.
As for this - I don’t think disease knows those sorts of boundaries Sirius. I think there are ignorant, scared people trying very hard not to shoulder a responsibility. - only Remus would have the experience to comment like that and it's exactly what happened. If prejudice hadn't been involved who knows how different things could have been, how many lives could have been saved..
Thanks very much for a good fic and for responding to the challenge. :)
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Date: 2005-02-23 12:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-23 01:46 am (UTC)There truly are no words to describe the wonderfulness that you have written.
This is probably the most amazing thing that I have encountered all week. I just –
*Hums with contentment*
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Date: 2005-02-23 02:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-23 06:31 am (UTC)It's AIDS awareness week now at my university so this struck me as perfect and perfectly timed. If I look at you like this, will you write more? *puppy dog eyes*
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Date: 2005-02-23 06:41 am (UTC)Thank you very much for reading. I don't think we have an AIDS awareness week at my Uni, I'll have to look into it, that would be good to know.
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Date: 2005-02-23 05:09 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2007-05-11 02:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-11 02:51 pm (UTC)