Status Updates From All The Young Dudes

Decidí dejarlo antes de leer el inminente final, hay cosas que me gustaron y otras que no pero el cariño con lo personajes es la razón principal por la que no puedo leer lo que sigue

“Lupin.” He said, haughtily, at their first meeting, just before the welcome feast. “I was surprised to hear you survived the war.” His lips curled, “When it seems so many of your friends did not.”
As foul as Snape was, it did bring out something Remus hadn’t properly felt in years. Mischief.
“Severus,” he smiled, warmly, “And I was surprised to hear you survived the trials. When so many of your friends did not.”

“We will see each other again,” Remus said, forcefully - promising it to himself as much as anything. Grant stretched out sleepily and nodded,
“Yeah, I know.” He sighed, “Like magnets, you and me. Always snap back together again.”

так ЛАДНО я сказала себе, что нужно перестать саботировать дочитывание, так что план на простудные выходные понятен))

Ups… creo que lo voy a releer jajaja… Empecé a leer los primeros capítulos nada más para pasar el rato pero me piqué jajajaj

Ich habe etwa sechs Monate für die Story angesetzt, ich lese jetzt seit 10 Tagen 😬

“It’s his fault for letting you down, not your fault for trusting him.”

Fuck. Alarm bells started going off inside Remus’s head.
It was as if someone had started flashing the lights on and off, and the walls were closing in, and all the air had left the room, and he was dizzy, drowning, blinded. There was a weird taste in his mouth, and he thought he might be sick, except he couldn’t breathe enough to retch, just kept gasping, tumbling forward.

The TV went on first thing in the morning as he pottered around the flat getting dressed or brushing his teeth, and more often than not he fell asleep in front of it in the evenings. Grant started calling the set ‘the other man’.
“I just like the noise,” Remus said, “For company.”

Remus wondered why he always ended up stuck with chatterboxes, and why on earth he liked it so much.

“No one owes you a happy life." Remus mournfully parroted Matron’s old adage as they swayed down the hall together.
"No," Grant huffed, setting him into bed. He looked down at Remus pityingly, "But you owe yourself one, love.”

After getting three A-levels in Social Policy, Politics and Education, then studying for months for further exams, Grant had qualified as a social worker. He was beginning a placement at a boys remand centre the following week. Remus didn’t know where he got the balls for it.
“It’ll be like doing St Edmunds all over again!”
“No it won’t,” Grant smiled, “It’ll be different, because I’ll make it different.”

“We all use each other.” Remus replied, dryly, “And that’s what we think love is.”

“You only come back because you’re basically homeless.” Remus spat one evening, from the couch, as Grant collected the rubbish littered around him.
Remus couldn’t bear the clinking sound empty bottles made.
“Yep,” Grant replied, blithely, carrying on about his business, “That’s exactly right, Remus me old pal. Nuffink to do with the fact that I love your dozy arse.”

“Remus,” Mary said, chewing her lip, watching him from the living room, “I really do have to go… do you promise you’ll get in touch with Arthur?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. He just wanted her to leave, now. “See ya.”
“Goodbye, love. I’ll be back, I promise.”
And she left. And Remus was alone.

“Why us.” He said, looking up at her, desperate for answers, “Out of everyone. Why is it you and me left, and not Lily and James? Who decided that?! It’s bollocks!”
“I know, sweetheart.” She said, softly. “I know.”