Summary: Remus' first and only other love interest appears anonymously at his funeral. What does she feel? Why didn't their relationship work out? Please R&R! Flames welcome…
A/N: When I was thinking about writing this, I thought of all the other fanfics in which Remus has some other love interest before Tonks. I thought, 'Why not? I mean, he's a Marauders so someone else had to have been interested in him…" The thing is though, I haven't read any fanfics in which there's a follow-up concerning said love interest. So that's what I decided to write.
Disclaimer: Kudos to J.K. Rowling for writing something as fantastic as Harry Potter…
Pity You Broke Your Promise
She stared at the coffin, standing unrecognized in a mass of mourners. A black-haired teenager she vaguely remembered seeing before held a crying baby. A single tear trailed slowly down the teen's cheek. She turned back to the coffin where he lay dead—next to his wife. "Remus," she whispered, closing her eyes.
"Remus," she laughed, "Remus, where are we going?" He merely glanced back at her to check that the blindfold was secure; "Can't tell you love. A Marauder never tells." She giggled and protested "Re-oh." She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck as he whipped off her blindfold and brought her body closer to his. She pushed him away playfully—looking around. "Where are we Remus?" He smiled, pausing before her, his sandy hair flopping in his eyes. "That's my secret—" and then he kissed her. "Mmm…Remus?" "Yes love?" "I love you." He looked at her penetratingly. "Really?" she smiled; "Forever and always. I promise." He smiled, kissing the top of her head. "I promise too, love. You're my only girl."
She wiped her eyes, drawing near the coffin to per in. He lay there as if sleeping, his hand tightly clasping the hand of the other woman—so much younger and so much brighter than her. She sighed regretfully—he looked so much more relaxed, peaceful, than he had ever looked in life. So much more peaceful than she remembered him being with her.
She sat quietly on his hospital bed—he not knowing she was there, that she was there every month. "Oh Remus," she signed, "if only you would actually tell me what you are to my face. It's not like I care what you are." She paused as he stirred, saying something in his sleep. She gently put her hand in his and pushed his hair out of his eyes—eyes that, though closed, were ringed with black circles of unrest and unease. It was always like this—every month…every full moon. She squeezed his hand softly. "Feel better Remus."
She bit her lip. She had been ready to accept him for who he was. She had waited for his confession with open arms. His confession that had never come. And now he lay—dead—next to his wife. His wife to whom he had obviously confessed. The wife whom he had clearly loved like he had not loved her. The wife who, like her, had been willing to share his burden. The wife with whom he had been able to share his burden—his condition that he hadn't been able to share with her.
Threading her fingers through his hair, she placed her mouth on his. "Mmm…Remus…" Pressing her body up to his, she pushed for tongue entrance—rejected. She tried again—rejected. Frustrated, she pulled away. "Remus, it's like this every month now. Why won't you just ell me what's wrong?!"
He avoided her eyes. "Nothing's wrong—I'm just tired." "Don't give me any of that crap! I know what's wrong and I won't pretend I don't anymore. I know what you are. I'm sick of your pretending nothing's wrong. Remus, listen to me; I. DON'T. CARE. Just don't lie to me. I'm your girlfriend. I want you to trust me! This has been going on ever since we got together. I'm sick and tired of being lied to!"
He stared at her, eyes filling with understanding; "It was just an act, wasn't it? It was all because I am what I am—a werewolf. You don't really love me, do you? It was just…pity." She, amazed, grabbed his hand. "Remus, NO! I love you. I love you. I'll never love anyone else. Don't you understand? It was never pity!" He looked coldly at her. "Why would anyone love me? I'm a monster. I should have seen that from the start. We can never be together. So…thanks for the pity. I thought you really loved me…like I love you…like I still love you." She gasped, still clutching his hand; "Remus, no! Don't leave, I love you! I love you, I lo-" he shook her hand away and walked off.
She cried after him "Remus don't!" He looked back at her, for the last time; "One thing. Don't ever talk to me again."
His eyes—brown eyes—lay closed. She swallowed. The last expressions, the last emotions she had ever seen in his beautiful smoldering eyes had been coldness, pride…hate, and…hurt. "Remus, I always loved you…only you. Like I promised…I still love you. I never meant to hurt you. You broke your promise…who is she? That baby over there…is that yours? Remus, that's not my baby like it should be….who is she? Did you die saving her? And the baby? Or did you remember me…and die thinking of me? Remus, I never broke my promise. I love you." She stared at the open coffin, lost in thought.
She climbed into the coffin and pushed the other woman away, embracing Remus. Then, she slowly pulled out the muggle pistol she always carried. It was hard and cold—so small to be so powerful. She looked down the barrel—trying to focus on the hole—before pulling the trigger. A thunderous noise burst from the pistol and a spurt of red exploded from her face as she fell back onto his chest. She watched hazily as a crowd drew near. "Remus," she choked, the blood clogging her throat, "Remus…I'm coming…after you."
-xxx-