Disclaimer:
Not mine, well the plot is but the characters and the world belong to J.K. I
just play around with the characters while starying in the canon realm.
Author's Note: Just to tie up chapter one
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Chapter Two: Looking Back
Remus Lupin sat in the ragged, worn down chair of his apartment. The wallpaper
peeled off the sides of the walls, revealing a horrid yellow paint, which at
one point had covered the entire house. The only light in the room was the thin
sun streak that passed through a crack in the drapes, falling onto his mug of
butterbeer. Butterbeer, as most would describe it, was wonderful! It tasted
warm and the foam would always tickle your nose as you took a drink of the warm
mixture. Remus remembered his first butterbeer; he had been a rambunctious
eleven-year-old boy. Not just any boy, but a wizard, not to mention a werewolf.
That first butterbeer had warmed his body against the bitter blizzard that
plagued the whole world outside of the Three Broomsticks as he sat and shared
it with his friends, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and James Potter. This
butterbeer didn't warm his soul or tickle his nose; it tasted insipid and his
soul was not warm, but an icy cold that nothing could temper. His friends were
gone, taken away from him in a matter of two days. How long ago was that now,
he asked himself. It might have been a year ago or a week ago, but the pain was
fresh. It always would be there, plaguing his dreams with nightmares and his
moments awake with callous memories that refused to go away. Quidditch
matches,; balls,; games of chess by the fire; playing pranks on the whole of
Hogwarts; picnics by the lake; these memories cut into his heart over and over
again like a sharp knife.
He could end this, he thought to himself. End it all; be indulgent and save
himself from his past. He lifted his wand out of the pocket of his robe.
When Remus had joined the Order, a defense group against Lord Voldemort, he had
learned a spell that could end his life and the incessant pain that consumed
his soul. The spell was meant to end your life; taking any information locked
in your brain with you, but would work just as well now.
His heartbeat was erratic as his mind called back the spell, only to be
interrupted from his thoughts by a large tawny owl coming through the window,
pulling the drapes back further as it entered. Remus looked at it for a moment,
considering if he should end it now or wait until he read the note tied to the
owl's leg. Deciding to find out who was left to send him a note, he dropped his
wand back into the pocket of his robe and untied the note from the owl's leg.
It gave a hoot before turning, taking a sip of the butterbeer and pecking a
nearby roll that lay upon the table before disappearing through the window from
whence he came.
Remus unrolled the letter; there was a note and three pictures attached. The
photos were of Lily, his dead friend. Another was of Remus with James Potter
(another newly deceased buddy), Peter Pettigrew (too brave for his own good, -
going after Sirius to avenge James and Lily getting himself killed in the
process), and Sirius Black. Sirius Black, the biggest prankster, the best man
at James' and Lily's wedding, Harry's godfather, high-ranking member of the
Order, Secret Keeper, spy, and killer. Sirius was the one to censure for this
all, not Voldemort. While Voldemort was the one who killed forthright, Sirius
was the one who killed from within. He had needed not a wand or weapon to kill
Remus - he had done it through betrayal.
They were all on the Quidditch pitch, smiles on their faces, bouncing up and
down. You could see the scars on James' hand from the night Remus, while in his
werewolf form, had almost attacked Severus Snape. James had gotten in the way,
almost getting killed. That had haunted Remus, but now it was of small measure
compared to the recent events, which did not teeter on the brink of death but
flowed over the edge.
Before looking at the last photograph he decided to read the letter. It was
from Nick, the ghost of Gryffindor Tower.
Dear Remus , I know the time is hard; it is for all of us. Everyone who knew
Lily, James, Peter, and Sirius has in part died, but there is hope. In the
darkness there is light, it may be hard to see now, but it's there in the
distance flickering so we can see it. Your future will always be darkened by
the past. Only by remembering the good times we have had can we face what's to
come. Harry has a future, it may always be marred by what has passed before but
he continues on and so must you. His family is gone, Remus. You have to be
there for him when the weight of the past, both his and yours, falls on his
shoulders. No one can truly be blamed for the past; the fates have a way of
toying with us just to see how far we'll travel to get to that light. You must
make it to the end of that tunnel to help the future and Harry. Keep the past
with you. -Nick
Remus turned to the last photo; it was of him and the gang by the lake before
graduation. Tapping his pocket, he felt his wand there. He would not need it
for a while, 12 years in fact, when he would become a professor of Defense
Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. He felt a tear fall down his cheek. They
were gone from the world, but they would always be with him in his heart. They
would always be alive in his memories, which would not haunt like inner demons,
but remind him of what he had. For happiness, true happiness, is great no
matter how long it lasts.