Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
All the Coloured Lights Universe -Wizarding 1981. In which we find out what happened to Remus.
Deep Sea Diving
a feeling that the ship may sink
They cannot walk hand-in-hand during the daylight or kiss each other after returning from a particularly dangerous night on duty. They cannot get married and write their last will and testament to each other, like Lily and James have just done. To the rest of the world, they are merely good friends, so close they can almost read each other's thoughts and just part of a unit of four. To make things simple: Remus stays with Sirius because he is too poor to afford his own flat. Sirius hasn't got time for girlfriends.
Sometimes, though, Remus will stare at Sirius too long or Sirius will pull his fingers through Remus's hair too gently in public. Peter's mouth crumples in distaste – he figures out the secret they are hiding, but he is a true friend through and through, he promises not to say a word, not even to James.
Their love is secret. It is kept locked inside Sirius's flat, mostly inside the bedroom that they share. It is safer that way.
a feeling of longing so deep no diver would go
Remus comes back to the flat cold and empty, as usual. The flat seems to match, except there is some food in the kitchen. He cobbles a sandwich together by hand and eats it while he retrieves his wand from the locked drawer. He then gets a omelette to fry half-heartedly with a Charm.
The flat is so empty and dark he feels like wandering around and putting on all the lights, just because he can. He stands in the bedroom doorway, staring at the made bed. No one else has been here, he's pretty certain of that... But the bed is normally left as it is. As they are. As they were. What has he missed? What happened while he was gone? He starts to fret but gets distracted by the empty shelves and wardrobe. Even the secret box hidden well under the bed (Remus begins to blush, even though he is alone) has been emptied. The contents must have been rifled through eagerly at first... then with a dawning realisation. Then what? Laughter? Disgust?
Remus slams his hand against the wooden post of the bed, furious and ashamed that he is ashamed. It was meant to be a secret. It is then he notices it, a note discarded and left behind.
" There are other forces in this world, besides the will of evil "
Gandalf. Lord of the Rings. Tolkien. Sirius. His mind, or his heart maybe, makes the connection instantly. Something about seeing the handwriting, more familiar to him than his own, makes it real. This is all that is left of Sirius. The Aurors must have taken everything else. Someone, probably Alice Longbottom, made the bed. Did she leave the note for him too? Or did they forget it in their eagerness to take everything personal out of the flat?
He no longer wants omelette. He no longer wants to sleep in a proper bed. He no longer wants that last scoop of Earl Grey leaves steaming and swirling in a teacup. All of the things that he thought he wanted, that he thought he missed, they won't be enough to fill this painful need he has for Sirius.
a feeling that you are but a distant star
Remus walks. Remus talks. Remus Apparates. He sneezes, he eats breakfast, he thinks of going back to work in the cafe. He thinks of leaving the wizarding world altogether. Thinks he should have done it long ago, long before he knew what it was like to have friends that would do anything for you, before he knew how to set fire to his hands without burning them, before he kissed girls under mistletoe, before he sang in public, before he met James and Lily and Peter and... He should have left long before he fell in love.
He is laughed out of the Ministry before getting to speak to anyone vaguely important. There will be no trial. There will be no appeals. They are locking Sirius up and throwing away the key, and good riddance to bad apples and all that. What did you expect, asks Emmeline Vance in exasperation when he manages to get in contact with her. He's a Black, they're all half-mad or murderous or both. I couldn't believe it at first, either but Remus we have to face the facts. All the evidence, the witnesses... Look, he did a terrible, terrible thing and I'll grieve for Lily and James for the rest of my... Harry's safe. You-Know-Who is gone. Sirius Black is getting what he deserves.
Remus has been to Azkaban before. It is hard to reconcile that with "getting what you deserve". It is hard to think of someone you loved without reason, someone you loved more than yourself, slowly dying under the Dementor's care. But his whole life has been hard. So he nods and thanks Emmeline, reminding himself not to talk to her again.
It is getting colder. The days have crept along, turning into different months without him noticing. The trees are picked clean, the skies full of whitish-grey cloud. It will snow soon and already some people are beginning to put up tinsel and baubles, buying fairies and luminous wrapping paper, organising their family get-togethers. He cannot bear the thought of being here at Christmas.
Albus Dumbledore is kind, he is sympathetic, as usual. He gives Remus a reason to leave. (And what an odd reason it is, what on earth does he expect him to find in Albania of all places?)
a feeling of sinking like a ship
Remus drafts letters in the middle of the night, one hand aflame, the other scribbling across the parchment. He wastes his last bottles of ink and snaps all his good quills, only to chuck the letters into the fireplace. He'll maybe burn them soon.
If he can get out of bed, that is. Morning after morning, he seems to be exhausted and sinks back under the covers like a heavy stone sinks to the bottom of the sea. And his covers feel like waves, pulling him in, sucking him under, and all he wants is the dark. He wishes he could go to sleep and never wake up again. What's the point? The Order is finished. Voldemort murdered his last chance of a family. Albus Dumbledore refuses to tell him where he has sent Harry for safe-keeping.
Remus retrieves the letters and folds them away into a handsome leather case. He needs to remember what it's like to feel, even if it hurts, even if it's grief and rage and desolate fury. As the days slip away into spring, he's beginning to go numb.
feeling nothing.
a feeling that you might kick your legs and swim to the surface
Remus has a job. A job paid in a chicken and frequent meals and getting nagged at by Molly Weasley, but a job nonetheless. He calls the chicken Helen of Troy so he doesn't feel inclined to eat her and some of the Weasley kids teach him how to look after her. It's strange, being surrounded by chattering, lively children that don't have a clue about his scars or his deep-lodged pain. They ask him questions and forget to listen to the answers and bicker over one another and vye for his attention. It's brilliant.
a feeling of muscles freezing up
Someone sends him a short letter. "Frank and Alice." Luckily, they also sent some Daily Prophet cut-outs to explain what they mean. Remus reads each article and the reportings of the trial with mounting pain and disgust. Voldemort's been gone six months and yet he's still managed to destroy another family. He cares for the chicken that Molly and Arthur gave to him, because he cannot stand the cruelty of neglect, not realising that this rule applies to him, too.
a feeling that there may be sunlight sparkling on water
Emmeline has been sent by Minerva McGonagall. She's worried about him. They're all worried. He can't speak to her, he can't seem to express himself. She smiles and makes him feel ashamed of his sadness and of the resentful thoughts he had about her. She doesn't talk about Sirius, she manages to shrug him into a coat and suggests they go out for a walk.
Once they step outside, she takes a firm grip of his arm and Apparates them elsewhere. A small village. It seems vaguely familiar. The air smells hotter here. There are children laughing and running around the church. There are trees standing tall and green. Emmeline leads them to the war memorial, a blank grey stone that shimmers and falls away into something different. Remus's breath catches in his throat, and then he starts to laugh at the smug look James would have had on his face at being made into a statue.
Emmeline hesitates before taking him to the last house on the street. Still standing, though utterly destroyed. Remus reflects for a long while before carving a message into the sign. She gasps and he looks at her.
"You shouldn't have done that, probably."
"Maybe not," he agrees, though he feels better with himself for having done so, even if there is only a tiny chance that Harry might see this sign someday. "Come on. Let's go."
Good luck, Harry, wherever you are.
