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A drabble for the October 28th prompt over at [livejournal.com profile] scarvesnhats.

There are certain things in this world that properly warm a person up both inside and out - a sunny day at the seashore, a well executed prank, and mulled apple cider are perfect examples. Reclining in bed late one night with his hands wrapped around a goblet of cider with just the right amount of cinnamon and clove, Remus Lupin mused that certain people had a similar effect. One such person was drowsily burrowing his head against Remus' stomach and making little whuffling noises as he slipped into sleep.

Yes, thought Remus, scratching Sirius Black behind the ears. Just perfect.
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The prompt inspiring this story can be found here. Honestly, this started off as a happy, fluffy little drabble, and well...

Scamps - 1,000 words )
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Prompt

Remus did not know exactly when the seed was sown, but he suspected it was around the time his friends discovered his lycanthropy and did not reject him.

He was peripherally aware of it, warm and growing, expanding within him over the years. Occasionally, it shone from him with bright smiles and warm glances, until that fateful day when, unto Remus alone, Sirius gifted one of his brightest, most alluring smiles.

And Remus was lost.

It burst from him in rushes of frantic color and he fluttered kisses down upon Sirius like leaves, orange and ruby and oh so sweet.


**



Also here.
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Double duty this time, Prompt 4 and Prompt 8.

Summary: Remus and Sirius survey their kingdom and Sirius hatches a plan.
Word count: 1146 together, plus a picture.

Kings of the Castle )

~*~@~*~

The Colors of Autumn )
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[livejournal.com profile] scarvesnhats prompt from October 6th.

I'm trying to catch up with the prompts I missed, This one is: colds.

**

Something about Gryffindors )
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[livejournal.com profile] scarvesnhats, Oct 7th prompt. Also here.

Spiderweb tracings of frost spread across the window before him, a glistening greeting in the crisp autumn morning. He had received a similar welcome these last seven days since the weather had turned colder and the air had begun to hold the undeniable smell of encroaching winter.

While the rest of the dorm slumbered on, Remus had taken to the habit of rising early to catch this moment and hold it for himself. This moment of appreciating the pattern of frost on the glass, new and unique each morning. Of wrapping his arms tightly around himself. Of never looking away for fear of losing a single moment before the rising sun melted the little frost wanderings before his eyes.

For even though he mourned the loss of that crystal purity, he could not resent the sun for spreading its healing warmth through the window and into him, piercing his soul.
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Inspired by the [livejournal.com profile] scarvesnhats October 3rd prompt, seen below. Also here.

Out in the woods of autumn! I have cast
Aside the shackles of the town, that vex
The fetterless soul, and come to hide myself

- from Autumn in the West, by William Davis Gallagher

**

Blood pumped, chasing away the chill. Nothing could hold him back. Freedom was his at last, once again, for this one fleeting night. He could not force away his other self, but he could force it to feel, properly, this one night of all the month.

Trees whipped by as he sped. Some needed a broom to achieve this feeling; he claimed it as his own. He gamboled amongst the darkness and shadows of the world around him, this world just beginning to settle down for its long sleep.

With the stag dashing ahead of him,
with the dog racing at his side,
with a rat struggling to catch up,

he threw his head back and howled.

"Chill"

Oct. 2nd, 2005 03:46 pm
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A drabble written for [livejournal.com profile] scarvesnhats using this prompt.

With the window open he can barely feel his fingers and toes, numbed as they are by the first real chill of the season. Each breath is a struggle, both against the sharpness of the air and the pressure in his throat, but he cannot give this up. This smell of autumn, this clean purity of the world. He wants to breathe it in and cleanse himself. To forget. Or perhaps... to remember.

Despite the chill of the room, the chill of his flesh, Remus can still feel a spark of warmth in the center of his chest, kept alive by the memories of warm and comforting arms pulling him close and lulling him into a state of peace.

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