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Author: Cambryn Story: The Wisdom to Know the Difference Rating: Young Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: WIP Reviews: 7 Words: 8,979
'Do you need any help, Remus?' his mother asked from across the room. 'No,' he grumbled moodily. He relentlessly glowered at the page for a good minute before his contemplations over just how to say that word were interrupted by the sound of the hallway clock's chiming. 'It's seven thirty. Time for bed,' said his father, slowly pushing himself up from the leather chair with a loud creak. Remus reluctantly put down the book before his two parents began to escort him to his room. He had just started up the stairs when he had the sudden urge to turn around and somehow gain back some of his pride. 'Um...you don't need to take me up. I'm not a baby. I can do it myself,' Remus stated unsurely. 'What?' his mother asked, giving a strange sidelong look to her husband. 'I'm six now. I- I want to go to bed by myself. I'm not a baby,' Remus said again, a sick feeling of guilt niggling at him as he glanced at his mother's less than happy expression. 'Well, if that's what you want...' his mother said hesitantly. 'It is,' Remus affirmed in as brave a fashion he could manage. 'If that's what the independent lad asks for, that is what he shall receive. Goodnight, Master Remus,' his father said in an almost absurdly formal way before ruffling Remus' sandy locks and giving him a quick hug. His mother gave him an unreadable look before kissing him on the forehead. 'Don't try to grow up too soon, though,' she smiled before returning to her talk with his father. Remus bit his lip to keep from crying out something foolish. He knew he had this one moment that he could say 'I've changed my mind,' but for some reason, he refrained. 'Goodnight, then,' he said pitifully before trudging up the stairs in self-inflicted misery. He nervously eyed the eerie hallway and gave an audible gulp. It had never seemed this frightening before. Of course, it didn't help that it was pitch black but for the moonlight shining in through a window at the end of the hall. Taking a moment to steady his nerves, with his small hand travelling along the wall, he tentatively stepped forward. He could still hear his parents talking, their distant voices carrying up the stairwell. He strained to hear what they were talking about, but couldn't distinguish a word. Giving up on his fruitless attempts to hear them, he took another step forward, finding he knew the hallway much better than he had anticipated. It only took a few more paces before he was feeling confident enough to go at a full-blown walk. With each step, a feeling of sound liberation began to blossom in him. Perhaps he should try to be independent more often. After all, at six years of age, it was a time to be self-sufficient. He had made it halfway down the hallway without incident: a daring accomplishment for a boy of his years. The one problem with travelling at anything other than a shuffle in the dark is the fact that instead of slowly discovering objects with your sliding foot, you suddenly find them by stumbling over them and coming very close to physical harm, making a number of children's playthings very dangerous. Remus found just how perilous a collection of wooden blocks could be and, after nearly falling headlong into a collection of his mothers potted plants, decided his previous shuffle would get him to his room just as well as walking. Finally reaching his bedroom, Remus let out a long breath before he changed into his pyjamas and jumped onto his bed. He clambered across his bed to the window and placed his forehead against the cool glass to stare down at his horse. It looked like it was asleep, though it was hard to tell from all the way up here. Closing his eyes, he could just picture himself riding it, jumping over hedges and creeks and galloping through scorching deserts quite gallantly. He was imagining himself a suit of armour when, with a horrified start, Remus remembered he had yet to find a name for his horse. As hurriedly as he dared in the dark, he made his way towards his bookshelf and grabbed a slate coloured book, before swiftly returning to his bed. The book was one of his more treasured belongings. It was a book of classic myths his mother had put together, complete with her own water-coloured illustrations. Though the pages weren't as smooth as his other books, and the drawings weren't quite as professional looking, he never grew tired of staring at his mother's paintings and loopy writing. If any book would have a good name, this would be it. Gently turning the pages, just as his mother had taught him, he found a lovely picture of the moon goddess Diana. She held a bow under the light of a full moon that was a mirror image of the one shining brightly outside. The painting had intricate designs running around it and a deliciously gory picture of a deer being eaten by dogs painted, a bit too small for Remus' tastes, in the corner. It was one of his favourite pages in the books because of that inset. Turning through the pages, he found the inspiration he'd been looking for. In cheerful colours was a team of horses drawing the sun chariot, with a god called Helios at the reigns. His mother had just been reading about him the other day. He tried to remember the story she had told him. Something about a boy trying to do the job of driving the chariot and dying came to mind, but he couldn't remember how. Staring at the horses and then at the god, he decide that Helios would be a most excellent name for his horse. Helios: and he'd thought of it all by himself. As being so terribly clever could make one very thirsty, Remus blindly reached towards his bedside table to grab his glass of water. His mouth frowned a bit as he realised it wasn't there. His mum always put it there for him, but after so much thinking and cleverness, Remus found he was too tired to care. He quickly raised his quilt and cocooned himself inside. He tried to get comfortable, but found he couldn't. The sheets were all tucked firmly into the mattress, making him feel almost entrapped by them. He'd never had this problem when his mother tucked him in. He was beginning to miss her bedtime stories as well. Her night time kiss on his forehead was much nicer when he had been tucked in and read to. And he was starting to get awfully thirsty. With a sudden burst of motion, Remus threw the covers off of him and padded down the hallway to the stairs. His parents were still talking, of all the silly things to do when their son was braving death and dehydration. Standing expectantly on the bottom stair, but still not gaining any attention, he cleared his throat and declared rather loudly: 'I've got a name for Horse.' Both his parents were startled out of their conversation and turned to him. 'Oh?' his father asked, sharing a slightly amused look with his wife. 'It's Helios, after that god who drove the sun wagon. The one you were telling me about the other day, Mum.' 'Well that sounds like a lovely name,' his mother smiled benignly. 'Yes. Well, goodnight,' Remus said, not moving an inch. 'Mum? You can continue to tuck me in and give me a glass of water, if you want. It wouldn't bother me.' 'Would you like me to do that now?' she asked in a would-be nonchalant manner. 'Yes!' he said, looking startled at his own outburst. 'That is, if you want to.' 'I'd be more than happy to,' she placated, a wide smile gracing her lips as she rose from her seat. Remus gently placed his hand in hers as they walked down the wooden hallway. For some reason, it didn't seem as intimidating as it had earlier.
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