ext_15150 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
malabud.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2007-06-27 03:31 pm
malabud.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2007-06-27 03:31 pm
Entry tags:
Four Conversations That Could Have Saved the World by Isis (PG-13)
Fandom: HARRY POTTER
Pairing: Gen, with references to James/Lily
Length: 11,500 words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
isis_uf
Author Website: Daydreams
Why this must be read:
It seems that I am cursed this month with fic titles that are too long to put in the subject line. The proper title of this fic is "Four Conversations That Could Have Saved the World (And One That Did)."
The five-things conceit has become a hallowed fandom tradition, and scarce is the writer who has not tried her (or his) hand at it. Isis has successfully taken this conceit and given us five illuminating insights into the HP world. Whether it's James and Lily choosing someone else as Harry's godfather or Regulus going to Sirius after he left the Death Eaters, Isis shows us four ways the wizarding world could have been a very different place had these conversations occurred. Each of the first four conversations has a bittersweet quality about them, aching for what might have been.
The last conversation, for which I shall not spoil you, may not be canon, strictly speaking, but I can certainly see it taking place. Though the participants could not have possibly imagined it, their conversation was vital to the future of the wizarding world.
So, before canon is changed forever with the release of Deathly Hallows, go and read this fic. You won't regret it.
* * *
It's four days until Christmas when Regulus shows up, hollowed and haunted on Sirius’ front stoop, unwilling or unable to ring the bell. Sirius can see him through the window, but despite the bitter chill wafting through London, he makes no move to greet (or shoo away) his younger brother. If Regulus has something to say to him, he’ll bloody well have to make the effort himself.
“Bugger all,” Sirius hears Regulus mutter from outside followed by two, short, sharp raps.
Sirius pauses a moment, leaning against the door with the knowledge that his brother – the real one, not one of those he’s assigned the title – is inches away. So, so close, but with distance built into the spaces between them.
It’s not until he hears a rustle of feet – a step, a turn – outside that he lowers the wards and opens the door.
Seeing Regulus is like looking at one of those funhouse mirrors he found so amusing when Lily dragged them to a carnival after graduation, only this isn’t funny at all. Regulus is the same, except, of course, he’s entirely different.
They’ve always looked a lot alike, a byproduct of centuries of inbreeding he supposes. But now Sirius’ sharp, high cheekbones look hollow on Regulus’ face and his gray eyes positively pale given the dark circles and bags beneath them. Sirius is the elder brother, but for all his youth, Regulus looks older now.
Sirius almost shuts the door. He wants to. There is so much hurt there, so much bad blood, and he knows, knows he’s gotten the short end of the stick. It would feel so good to just give a little back. Just a little. Just for a moment, make Regulus taste what it feels like to be cast aside, thrown out, passed over. He wants to so very, very badly.
But, as he starts to push the door shut, those hollow, haunted eyes catch his. If Regulus had looked angry or sneered or yelled or tried to stick his foot in the doorway, Sirius would have shut that door in a heartbeat, forever locking Regulus on the outside. But he doesn’t. Like everything else simultaneously familiar and foreign about the younger Black, Regulus looks at his brother with resignation. And that… that gives him pause.
I deserve this, his eyes say. I do. I deserve this and nothing better.
“What do you want?” Sirius asks harshly, one hand on the doorknob and one on his wand.
“I…” Regulus’ voice is raspy and thick with emotion that Blacks don’t have and certainly don’t show. “May I… Do you think I might come in?”
Four Conversations That Could Have Saved the World (And One That Did)
Pairing: Gen, with references to James/Lily
Length: 11,500 words
Author on LJ:
isis_ufAuthor Website: Daydreams
Why this must be read:
It seems that I am cursed this month with fic titles that are too long to put in the subject line. The proper title of this fic is "Four Conversations That Could Have Saved the World (And One That Did)."
The five-things conceit has become a hallowed fandom tradition, and scarce is the writer who has not tried her (or his) hand at it. Isis has successfully taken this conceit and given us five illuminating insights into the HP world. Whether it's James and Lily choosing someone else as Harry's godfather or Regulus going to Sirius after he left the Death Eaters, Isis shows us four ways the wizarding world could have been a very different place had these conversations occurred. Each of the first four conversations has a bittersweet quality about them, aching for what might have been.
The last conversation, for which I shall not spoil you, may not be canon, strictly speaking, but I can certainly see it taking place. Though the participants could not have possibly imagined it, their conversation was vital to the future of the wizarding world.
So, before canon is changed forever with the release of Deathly Hallows, go and read this fic. You won't regret it.
* * *
It's four days until Christmas when Regulus shows up, hollowed and haunted on Sirius’ front stoop, unwilling or unable to ring the bell. Sirius can see him through the window, but despite the bitter chill wafting through London, he makes no move to greet (or shoo away) his younger brother. If Regulus has something to say to him, he’ll bloody well have to make the effort himself.
“Bugger all,” Sirius hears Regulus mutter from outside followed by two, short, sharp raps.
Sirius pauses a moment, leaning against the door with the knowledge that his brother – the real one, not one of those he’s assigned the title – is inches away. So, so close, but with distance built into the spaces between them.
It’s not until he hears a rustle of feet – a step, a turn – outside that he lowers the wards and opens the door.
Seeing Regulus is like looking at one of those funhouse mirrors he found so amusing when Lily dragged them to a carnival after graduation, only this isn’t funny at all. Regulus is the same, except, of course, he’s entirely different.
They’ve always looked a lot alike, a byproduct of centuries of inbreeding he supposes. But now Sirius’ sharp, high cheekbones look hollow on Regulus’ face and his gray eyes positively pale given the dark circles and bags beneath them. Sirius is the elder brother, but for all his youth, Regulus looks older now.
Sirius almost shuts the door. He wants to. There is so much hurt there, so much bad blood, and he knows, knows he’s gotten the short end of the stick. It would feel so good to just give a little back. Just a little. Just for a moment, make Regulus taste what it feels like to be cast aside, thrown out, passed over. He wants to so very, very badly.
But, as he starts to push the door shut, those hollow, haunted eyes catch his. If Regulus had looked angry or sneered or yelled or tried to stick his foot in the doorway, Sirius would have shut that door in a heartbeat, forever locking Regulus on the outside. But he doesn’t. Like everything else simultaneously familiar and foreign about the younger Black, Regulus looks at his brother with resignation. And that… that gives him pause.
I deserve this, his eyes say. I do. I deserve this and nothing better.
“What do you want?” Sirius asks harshly, one hand on the doorknob and one on his wand.
“I…” Regulus’ voice is raspy and thick with emotion that Blacks don’t have and certainly don’t show. “May I… Do you think I might come in?”
Four Conversations That Could Have Saved the World (And One That Did)