This was inspired by a comic I saw online by alicia-chan on . It's also written for the Character-animal-prompt challenge in HPFC. Please review!
~Ash
The door swung open, letting in a swirl of snowflakes. A stiff figure walked into the Leaky Cauldron, shabby, brown robes revealed by a gust of wind under a dark, patchy coat. Remus slowly sat down at the bar, removing his fingerless gloves. "One butter beer, Tom." He called to the bartender. He stiffly pulled his book from his robes, opining it to a page.
"Here ya are, Mr. Lupin." Tom grinned his toothless smile, setting a cup of butter beer down on the countertop. Remus smiled back, glancing up from his book. He slid the money across the bar, wincing as he spent his last Knut in his pocket. He slowly and painfully opened up his book again, taking a long sip of the butter beer. "What ya readin?" Tom looked over Remus' shoulder.
"The Romantic Languages," Remus showed Tom. "I have become quite interested in different dialects."
"Ah." Tom raised his eyebrows and returned to cleaning glasses, wondering why anyone would read that for pleasure.
Suddenly, Remus put down his half empty cup of butter beer. Hey, Tom, I've got to go, just remembered Dora wanted me to pick up dinner from a muggle restaurant her dad liked."
"Ah, well, sorry to see ya go, friend." Tom picked up Remus' glass and added it to the precariously titling pile of dirty dishes in the sink. "Make sure yer not late- women hate dat!"
Remus nodded slightly and gathered his coat from the back of his chair. "Until next time, Tom!" He called, pulling open the door. A gust of icy December wind flowed into the pub, ruffling the pages of Remus' book. A slip of yellowed parchment fell out between the pages and fluttered to the floor, landing at Remus' feet. Curios, Remus bent down and picked it up, studying it outside. It was a poem, he realized. It wasn't his handwriting either, and the writing was almost illegible. 'It must have belonged to the previous owner.' he thought. 'After all, I did buy this from a second hand store.' Squinting through the snow, Remus leaned up against a wall and read it to himself.
Time
(AN-Alright, I get it, you don't like poems. Well, this is an important part of the story. READ IT! NOW! :D)
Replaced and unwanted,
Unloved.
A lone figure stands.
Stares, waiting for the pain.
It comes slowly,
But it hurts none the less.
Fear,
That time will pass
And he will never be first
Again.
Time brings more pain.
As he is slowly
Pushed
Away.
Time will tell
The outcome
Time will tell
The path that
The pain and despair
Will create.
Only time.
Only time.
Remus read it again, looking it over. 'Whoever wrote this was very depressed.' He concluded. Yet he couldn't shake a slight feeling of unease. Shrugging, he quickly Apparated to the restaurant that he had been supposed to be getting food from.
Remus adjusted his grip on the shopping bag and opened the door to their house. "Dora!" He called. "I'm home! I got dinner!"
"Remus? Aw, you're home early, damn, hold on!" He heard his wife's voice coming from the bathroom.
"Tonks, honey, is everything okay?" He asked, concerned.
"I didn't want you to find out this way, geez, I wanted to tell you properly!"
Remus walked over to the bathroom and flung open the door. Tonks was kneeled on the floor, her back to him, holding something in her hands. Hearing Remus come up behind her, she whirled her head around.
"Remus, look," Tonks started. "I'm-"