Title: Ties That Bind
Word Count: 772
Characters/Pairings: Sirius, James, Remus, Dumbledore, Remus/Sirius, Severus/Regulus, Hermione/Ginny
Rating: PG-13, for very mild sexual content
Warnings: Slash and femmeslash, a bit of angst
Summary: Love can be liberation or a curse. It can overwhelm or heal. It can be everything or nothing. Love is what we make it. Four vignettes.
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine. I’m just playing with them.
Author's Notes: Done for queerditchpub, a very fun drabble community with a 20 minute time limit highly conducive to writing and great prompts. Prompt for #4 comes from the song "Cold December" by Matt Costa. Title from the song "My Lovely" by Eisley.

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I. Lookouts
(Remus's disappearances every month)

Barely audible, the sound of sheets whistling across each other, foot steps, the door of the first years’ dormitory being opened. A long pause, and then more footsteps, very quiet, slowly fading as the mousy-haired boy descends the winding staircase. Wrapped in blankets, two boys watch him move in the darkness, and wonder where it is he goes each month, just like this, in the darkness of the night, still clad in his blue and white striped pajamas. Sirius feels James’s hand brush against his, tentatively. Should they follow him? He is their friend, after all, and he might be getting into trouble. James sits down at the top of the stairs, and his eyes are worried. They wait up late for Remus to come back, and sometime around three in the morning they drift off to sleep, unable to stay awake until dawn, when he comes back. By then, they are asleep in their beds once more, tucked in gently by Remus’s protector. Dumbledore wonders whether to tell Remus that his friends are on to him.

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II. By Moonlight
(midnight dreaming, Remus/Sirius)

The moon was a perfect, luminous crescent, hanging directly above them in the vast expanse of blue, purple, black sky. Stars were spread across the dark canvas, each one a slightly different size, its light constant, not flickering, miniature suns. Sirius turned his face towards the heavens and was glad the moon was thin tonight, and Remus could lay at his side, a man, not a beast. He smiled and whispered, “If I could be anywhere in the world tonight, it would be here, lying beside you.” Remus turned his face away and murmured something unintelligible. Fingers entwined, bodies pressed close, brown and black hair fanning out and blending together; they were the picture of a perfect couple. Remus swallowed and tried to pretend everything was as it should be. He felt a hand wandering across his chest, and pulled away.

“Sirius,” Remus said, still looking at the sky, the ground, the little stone cottage in the distance—anything but his lover.

“What is it?” Sirius asked. Even in the moonlight, he looked miffed.

Remus sighed. “Nothing,” he muttered, and lay back down.

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III. Good and Evil
(truth and betrayals, Severus/Regulus)

"How could you?" Regulus asked, gripping the pale arm tightly, the palm of his hand overlapping the Dark Mark, its magic vibrating against his skin.

Severus twisted away, tendrils of dark hair shielding him from the scowling eyes of the young man, his closest confidant and only friend among the ranks of the Death Eaters. "Since I was born, I haven't done a single good thing. No spell I've cast has been for the right reason. It's all gone so terribly wrong. Before I die, I have to know that I have some redeeming quality, that my being is not essentially evil, misshapen, wretched. I have to make a difference in this world, and a positive one. Don't you see, Reggie? We can kill as many mudbloods as we want, but we will have no purpose to our existence. To kill is to rid the world of another human being, of which there are many. Killing will devastate a family, not the world. But good trumps evil. One little thing done to help someone will make a thousand times greater difference than a murder."

"Do you think so? Do you really?"

"Yes," Severus whispered, his voice gruff and utterly sincere.

"All right."

As Regulus walked away, Severus smiled.

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IV. My Lovely
(“Summer’s come and summer has gone / Your Christmas Cards can't comfort me / you've found new friends and tied all the ends / It's freezing in the loneliest winter.” Hermione/Ginny)

That winter the snowflakes seemed to fall more slowly than they had any other year. As she sat by the window, cold glass pressed against her naked hip, she watched them drift from the grey sky down onto the ground, studying the patterns they made in the air. It was against all logical reason that Ginny might show up, present in mittened hands, but she couldn't help but hope for the sight of a young woman swathed in a long green cloak, a rope of hair the color of fire running down her back. Long after the moon had sunk back down to make way for the sun the next day, she stayed by the window, staring out, wishing for the slightest glimpse of the girl in green. She never came, for how could she? She was long gone, off on her honeymoon, basking in the Barbados sun.