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http://glitterati.illuminatedtext.c...n/andstill.html

Author's Notes:

I always claimed that this was the Azkaban story that I never wanted to read, but I ended up writing it, because it was a story that I think had to be told.

The massive gates of Circumstance

Are turned upon the smallest hinge,

And thus some seeming pettiest chance,

Oft gives our life its after-tinge.



The trifles of our daily lives,

The common things scarce worth recall,

Whereof no visible trace survives,

These are the mainstrings, after all



Trifles, Author unknown





.....And as pleasant as lounging in one another's arms was in the waking hours of a gray morning, it was far more pleasant to find open arms at the end of the day, of the week, of the month--to cling and hold and kiss and smell, to breathe in life. ......

eyes screwed shut, as if he were afraid to look and see the world falling apart around him. Only Sirius knew it had to be false--Moony was afraid of nothing. Where the wolf in him backed away from silver and wolfsbane, Remus never let himself surrender to anything



was beautiful--like one of those half-flawed creations of nature, utterly asymmetrical and perfect in its singularity.



but he knew Remus, read him like a well-thumbed novel



watching light glint sharp along a silver blade. "It's utterly deadly and a piece of art." He'd run long, artful fingers along the glass casing, eyes on the display, transfixed. "Mesmerizing, isn't it?"

Sirius remembered that he'd agreed, and that he hadn't been looking at the katana at all.