The House of Hawke has been called the traitorous, filthy and scum house the entire time that name was known to the living.
Past or future, one would accompany it with the adjective "Horrifying".
It was a matter of grief for the youngest daughter...
Hogwarts, Scotland Highlands, 1977 December 23rd, frigid winter
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Today I go home.
Standing in front of the black lake while Marlene packs my trunk with a scowl, I can't help but bounce on my heels in excitement to see Grandfather again.
As mysterious as he is around me and everyone really, he's also incredibly open through chess. I've missed playing it so badly that the realisation surprises me.
He's also sick and I wish I had a cigarette in hand so I could worry and forget it simultaneously.
"You know," Someone says behind me, "most people are either packing their belongings or getting on the carriages while you're standing here zoned out in front of the Black Lake in December's cold."
A smile overtakes my face and I turn around just as Remus comes to stand beside me, dressed in his own clothes. A shabby coat above a beige cardigan and khaki pants.
"I stole Marlene's stash of sea - stone candies and threatened to eat them all if she didn't pack my trunk," I tell him.
He turns to me with raised brows, "Cruel witch."
"She owes me that much after keeping me up all night this term!" I argue. "Dorcas was willing, though. She's a sweet."
"That she is," Remus agrees before turning to look at me. "Are you alright?"
"Yes," I smile, "Just a little worried for my grandfather. He was sick the last time I left, part of the reason he sent me here."
Remus nods, "I'll walk you to him,"
"You'd do that?"
"Of course," He says with a non-verbal 'duh'.
I grin and lean my face up just as leans his down to kiss me. I don't know how I got here, kissing one of the most beautiful guys in Hogwarts in front of the Black Lake while we both soak in each other's warmth in December but however it happened, I'm glad it did.
Remus pushes me towards the tree behind us and I know that my hair could potentially get stuck, though I don't care. His kisses turn rough from soft and slow and suddenly I'm fisting my hand in his hair and he's moving his lips down to my throat and we're no longer just making out.
I flip Remus around and my hands hastily unbuckle his pants and he groans, "We should stop,"
"We should stop?" I look up.
"No?" He grimaces and I laugh, sighing when he captures that sound with his mouth.
My fingers unzip the khaki pants and when my fingers trace the length of him, he shakes his head.
"We can't do this here, what if someone catches us?"
