Title: Mea Culpa: In Absentia II
Author: Fabs G.
Rating: G
Summary: Sequel to my previous fic In Absentia. Harry visits the tomb.
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, JK Rowling does. Everyone, bow and adore Jo! J
A/N: If you haven't read In Absentia, and are thinking of doing so, I recommend you do it now or otherwise this fic will ruin it. Still, you can understand what goes on here without reading part I. "Mea Culpa" is Latin for "My fault"
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If he hadn't been in the cemetery, one could've said he was a boy. The messy hair and green eyes made him look younger than he actually was but the sadness in his face revealed his true age. Now a fully-grown wizard, Harry Potter arrive to the tomb of Remus Lupin and stood in front of it, leaving a reasonable length of grass between him and the tombstone. There were flowers everywhere, of every kind and size. The tomb of Remus Lupin was a very 'popular' one, which is why the ones who knew him chose the night to visit his final resting place.
Tonight there was a full moon and combined with the solitude, it gave the cemetery an eerie atmosphere.
Remus J. Lupin1961-2001
Sic itur ad astra
(Such is the pathway to the stars)
He looked at the words carved in the cold gray stone. 2001. Today was the first anniversary of peace in the wizarding community, and that explained the excessive amount of flowers. Remus Lupin had died so Voldemort would leave the world alone once and for all exactly one year ago.
The boy smiled faintly.
"Sirius advised me to talk to you, that it did good for what I might be feeling inside. But I cannot find the words to start properly." He paused "He misses you, you know? More than he wants to show me, but he does. He's doing well. Actually, he's better than I thought he would be, but still… I cannot help feeling guilty. You are dead because of me, and I don't care how much Sirius tells me that you did it willingly or how peaceful the world is right now, my heart breaks every time I see Sirius looking at your photo or telling me one of your Marauder stories... I try to help him as much as I can but I don't know how to."
"And of course, when everything seems to be taking the right direction, some misinformed brainless git that regards me as the complete and absolute hero appears. It's the only time Sirius gets harsh against the ones who visit us. He feels your death so much he reckons that at least you should be paid rightful respect. He will explain time and again, never getting tired of telling the same story a million times, until whoever is listening grasps how the true situation was. How I couldn't have killed Voldemort if it hadn't been for your sacrifice."
"You know something? I lied to the press. Sirius and Dumbledore thought that a heroic death deserved a heroic tale so they invented the background and the story the whole world knows. Only they know what really was going on inside me. I didn't realize you had died the same way, with the same purpose my mother died. I never remembered how my touching him hurt Voldemort when I was 11. When I saw you there, when I realize what had happened to you, what Voldemort did… I just got angry. Did I say angry? I was furious. He had destroyed my life, my parents' life, Sirius' life, your life and now he had taken you away from us when we had barely started living our lives… I got so angry, so mad I forgot about everything, about my wand, about Sirius standing behind me and just tried to kill him with my own hands. My first touch weakened him... The second weakened him more… and so on… "
He couldn't go on. His throat was too tight to speak and he felt too lonely and helpless to continue speaking. He dropped to the ground, and hugged his knees, slightly rocking back and forth.
In the distance, a man ran towards him. He kneeled down and put his arm around the boy's shoulders, looking at him with worry in his eyes. "Are you ok, Harry?"
"Yes…" he stood up, discreetly wiping away his tears, but the man didn't take his arm from the boy's shoulders "Let's go home, Sirius"
As they started walking back to the cemetery entry, both looked at the now solitary tomb and then at each other again. A single tear dropped from their eyes, and they both knew that their eyes were expressing better the feelings than any word could have.
