Marauder crack

Verse by Verse, Blow by Blow

Four days later, the wound looks much better and the bruise has been reduced to a slight reddening of the skin. Miss Pomfrey believes that is a medical miracle, and Dumbledore argues that it may be due to his werewolf status. In fact, he has a whole theory about moods that predispose to lycanthropy, and Remus is forced to listen as he explains it to Miss Pomfrey throughout the Friday morning. That afternoon, he is listening to the screams of Quidditch training on the pitch from outside the window, when he sees the last person he expects to meet at that very moment.

- James? Why aren't you training?

His series of four continuous sneezes answer for him.

- McGonagall thinks I've caught a cold. - Brings a chair near the bed. - So I've come to keep you company.

- Don't you prefer to watch the training?

- Oh shut up. - Denies with all his conviction. - I'd rather stay with you for bloody once! You must be bored!!!!

It is the first time since Remus has met him that he misses training. He has seen him go to training burning with fever.

-McGonagall won't let you stay in the field, right?

-He says my sneezes distract the players. But what fault do I have if they do everything wrong? Someone has to tell how to play to those slags!

Although he can't help glancing out the window from time to time and softly cursing the team's strategy, James gets to spend the afternoon in the hospital wing and avoid any allusion to Quidditch and how unfair McGonagall is to him by not letting him play when he's not even sick. It would be convincing if it weren't because in two hours, Remus count at least thirty sneezes. When it starts to get dark, the screams stop coming from the field and James is interested in all those Muggle readings that Remus always has on his hands. He flips through a few books. The lightest one is a collection of poems full of underlines and notes in the margins.

- "Who dreamed that beauty passes like a dream?"

He rests his feet on the bars of Remus's bed, And he reads.

- "Because of these red lips, with all their sad pride, so sad already, thatno wonder they can foreshadow, Troy left us with a flash and violent funeral, and the sons of Usna died ".

He ponders what he has just read. He looks over the glasses.

-You always liked comedies, huh, Remus?

- Go on, come on.

Actually, what he likes is being read aloud to him.

- "We parade and parade with us the busy world among souls of men, who say goodbye and give up their position like pale waters in its icy career; Under passing stars, foam of the skies, follow living this lonely face ".

James speaks clearly, tries to make his way into the meaning of the words and concentrates like in a Quidditch match, trying to capture the ultimate meaning of words he cannot understand fully. He's so self-absorbed that he doesn't hear the noise of the door behind him.

- "Bow down, archangels, in your dark abode. Before you existed and before any heartbeat surrendered and kind she stood by his throne ... "

The voice behind him recites with him and James takes his eyes off the book to look at her. A soft red-haired figure approaching the bed, with the last verses.

- "Beauty made the world a path of grass so that she will put down his wandering feet ".

Lily recites from her heart. When she gets to bed, she strokes his hair, and Remus greets her with a kiss on the cheek. She has brought chocolate. And one smile that illuminates everything in passing.

-I didn't know you liked Yeats, Potter.

- Now I do.

Remus explains that he has chosen Lily's favorite poem. She says "What a coincidence" but who believes in chance and believes in destiny. For once he has the feeling that Lily Evans is looking at him - perhaps, maybe, she could be- with different eyes and she doesn't want to miss out spoiling someone else's words with his own. He doesn't know what to say or if he has to leave if this Yeats was also thinking of Lily when he spoke of beauty if his heart would also shrink in her presence. He keeps on reading. It costs him two poems to contain the trembling of his voice, and when he arrives at the third, he dares to look out of the corner of his eye and crosses his look with Lily's, who seems absorbed in his voice and from time to time, she murmurs the very verses that he tries not to spoil.

It's the closest to her he's ever been.

It's the best afternoon of his life and if he doesn't remember how to play Quidditch when he's done, who cares.

He only interrupts his reading with an inopportune fit of sneezing. Even though, he's almost better, because then she is the one who picks up a book and reads to them her voice - Holy Heaven - her voice could turn the duties of Potions in God's Word. When Sirius comes back from training, still with wet hair and party energy, he finds Remus leaning aside to make room for Lily in bed. Everyone listens to her and she stays at the door, thinking that she has gone to the wrong place.

- What is this, a literary cooperative?

James shuts him up.

- Sssshhhh. Don't interrupt, man.

Sirius resigns himself with some stifled protest - "what a gang of faggots"- and he lies down on the nearest bed. He recognises what Lily is reading: Whitman, Remus' favourite. He lets her finish and when he accuses her that she reads "like a girl", she challenges him to do better and cannot resist. Sirius stands up and takes the book from her. He knows exactly what he is looking for. He puffs up his chest, makes sure he has all possible attention and that Remus does not take his eye off her.

- "I celebrate and sing to myself"

Lily protests.

- How can you not celebrate. You are so wonderful.

Sirius continues.

- "I give myself to leisure and entertain my soul."

- I couldn't have said it better myself.

- Evans, no further comments are allowed.- He continues. Verse by Verse. In his voice, all of Whitman's devastating passion turns into a whirlwind. All fury, rage, splendor. Sirius does not know how to recite, he proclaims aloud, he makes his words, turns them into pamphlets, claims of himself; he walks while he reads and makes them laugh when he exclaimed that it is - "a port for good and evil" - when he concludes that Sirius Black is what Wall Whitman called - "unbridled nature, unbridled energy. Primal ".

Even Lily - who is forced to confess under torture - would admit that he has a gift for acting. But they ain't torturing her so she prefers not to acknowledge it.

- I didn't know you could read, Black.

- Whitman- bellows Sirius. - I fucking love this guy. The day that all poetry burns, you can save him.

- Your sensitivity moves us all, Padfoot.

Remus' tone does not give away any specific emotion but when Sirius looks at him, he smiles at him. They keep reading for a while more, taking turns, verses, with a glance.