The four boys were laughing merrily, sipping their butterbeers, when Remus suddenly froze, his eyes locked on a face at the other end of the bar.
The three others were instantly silent and tense. "What is it?" Sirius whispered.
Remus didn't answer, but he didn't need to. As Sirius inspected the man whom Remus's eyes were locked upon, a picture sprang into his head. The squalid man downing great gulps of firewhisky was barely recognizable, but there was something about him that made Sirius certain that this was the long-lost Nicholas Lupin.
Glancing quickly at his friends, Sirius could see that James had also picked up on the man's identity, but Peter, who had not been with them that afternoon in their first year when they had seen his picture, was obviously confused. "His dad," Sirius whispered into Peter's ear. The chubby boy's eyes widened in comprehension, and he shifted nervously in his seat.
Remus had finally snapped out of his trance, and discreetly signaled to Rosmerta. She winked cheerily, finished pouring a drink, and hurried over, glittery high heels flashing.
"Need something?"
Remus kept his voice low as he replied, "Can you let us out the back door?"
Rosmerta surveyed the bar. "What's the matter? There aren't any teachers in here."
"No," Remus replied nervously, glancing at the end of the bar.
The man who had once been Nicholas Lupin downed the last of his drink, and searched with his eyes for the bartender. When he found her, however, his eyes locked not on her, but on the pale teenage boy she was talking to. The last time he had seen that boy, he was on the ground, blood-stained, dying — next to his dead brother.
Hardly knowing what he was doing, the man got to his feet, and proceeded, trancelike, through the crowded room. Every step seemed to take all of eternity to fall, and yet he was moving all too quickly.
Remus was on his feet now, watching the man he had once called father come towards him. His instincts were screaming at him to run, but his feet were locked in place. The man stopped a few feet away. A desperate yearning filled his heart as he eyed the boy before him. His son stood in a pool of a light, but his shadow fell across the man's face. Then, in his eyes, Remus was joined by three other figures, and he recognized them from the dark recesses of his memory as himself as a young, strong man, his lovely wife, and his lost son, Romulus. They smiled at him, so happy, so innocent, so loving. He lifted a hand as if to touch them, but he could not. He could never touch them. All four faces which swam before his eyes were lost to him, separated by an indefinable boundary. He could never return to that blissful state. His hand dropped. Three of the figures dissipated, and Remus alone stood before him, staring in fear, anguish, sorrow, and — was that pity?
"I'm sorry," whispered Remus's father. Then he turned, and blundered out of the bar, disappearing into the night.