Historian - May 31 - Word Count: 538 - @wolfstarmicrofic

Historian - May 31 - word count: 538 - @wolfstarmicrofic

The curator led a group of children down the museum hallway.

“Next we have a series of written letters from two best friends to one another. These are from around fifty years ago,” she announced, passing out pamphlets. “You can read the contents in these.”

There were five letters.

The first one read:

Remus,

I’ve run. I’m staying with James now. 

Moony, please, I know I hurt you- but I can’t wait another day without seeing your face. I miss you so bad it feels like my soul hurts, Remus. I don’t know what to do. 

James has tried contacting you, but my guess is that you haven’t received any of his letters. Let me sum up the latest one: “Remus, Sirius is staying with me now, since his dear old mother decided to nearly kill him. Don't worry, though, he looks just as beautiful as usual.”

God, I can practically picture you smirking at that.

Anyways, come soon. Miss you. Don’t hate me, please. I swear it was an accident.

Love, Padfoot.

The second one was in a similar fashion. 

Sirius,

What? That’s… quite the bomb to drop.

Oh my God. I had no idea, I’m so sorry. Of course I’m coming, Padfoot. Nothing could keep me away from you right now.

That old hag. I’m going to kill her.

What gave you the idea that I hate you at all? I never did, never will. Sure, you might’ve messed up a bit, but that doesn’t mean I hate you. We all make mistakes.

Speaking of mistakes, your mother. Where is she, and when does she sleep? I’ve a plan to get rid of her, especially for doing whatever she did to you.

I’ll be there the day after you get this letter, which is in a day, give or take a few hours. Miss you too. I would never hate you, and I know. I forgive you, Sirius.

Yours, Moony.

A little boy raised his hand after reading the second letter. “Miss, are you sure that they were just friends?”

“Well, yes,” the curator said, going a bit red. “Our historians checked.”

“I think your historians were wrong, then,” the boy frowned. “See, friends don’t sign letters off with ‘love’ or ‘yours’, do they?”

“They were very good friends,” the woman blustered.

“...right.”

“Teddy,” the teacher scolded. “Apologise to Ms. Heather, will you? She’s the expert here.”

“No.” Teddy crossed his arms, staring the adults down as his classmates whispered behind him. “You’re wrong.”

“And how do you know, Mr. Lupin?” The curator crossed her arms right back, face stormy.

Teddy almost facepalmed. “Because the fifth letter from Sirius literally has lipstick markings on it? Are your ‘experts’ blind?”

“He could’ve been sending love to his best friend, Mr. Lupin.”

“They professed their love for one another in the fourth and fifth letters,” Teddy deadpanned.

“That’s it, Teddy,” his teacher said. “I’m calling your father. What’s his name?”

“Well, I have two, as you should know.”

The teacher tapped their foot impatiently. “And what’re their names?”

Teddy held back his grin. “One’s called Sirius, and the other one’s called Remus. Or you can call Uncle James, he wouldn't mind.”

The class behind him exploded in laughter.