Disclaimer: Unfortunately, the closest that I come to owning Harry Potter in a tatty paperback of Sorcerer's Stone and the copy of Deathly Hollow's that I bought at midnight the night it came out…I do own this little ditty however. This was the product of insomnia meets a full moon…which always makes me think of Remus. The italicized portion is copied from Deathly Hallows. Enjoy!
Monster's are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside of us, and sometimes, they win. Stephen King
Hogwarts was full of ghosts. Not the ones that everyone could see, although they were part of it. It was disconcerting, after all, the way that ghosts never change. The ghosts that now roamed the halls were the same ghosts that had roamed them in his youth. Mightn't it seem, if he focused only on Nearly Headless Nick's pretentious ruff or the glistening gory spilling down the robes of the Blood Baron, that no time had passed at all? Such wishful thinking was dangerous, but it was not the worst part. Worse than the ghosts of the present were the ghosts of the past.
Remus sighed, trying to shake such morose thoughts from his head. Being back in Hogwarts was like being caught in a time warp, like drowning. His brain was in sensory overload, as the sights, sounds, and smells drug him back, again and again. He had spent so long trying to forget, so long trying to eradicate every memory of the best and the worst parts of his life, that he had forgotten how very much he remembered.
From the second Dumbledore had turned up in his sitting room and offered him a job, the memories he had tried so hard to repress had been fighting their way to the surface. Instead of simply apparating into Hogsmead or flooing directly into the castle as most teachers did, Remus had opted to take the train. For some reason that was lost to him now he had felt that somehow having more time to prepare, more time to brace himself, would be a good thing. Instead it had just made him remember.
"My whole family have been in Slytherin."
"Blimey and I thought you seemed all right!"
"Maybe I'll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?"
"Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!"
Sitting in the same compartment where it had all began, where he had met the boys who would become both his best friends and his worst enemy, he could hear the way their voices had sounded as James and Sirius had met, as he had sat in the corner wishing that he were a part of their banter, not knowing that he soon would be. No students intruded on his solitude, choosing not to come any closer to a professor any sooner than they had to. Leaning his head against the window, he let out all of his air, trying to remember what it had been like to be that terrified, painfully shy, socially awkward child, so afraid that if he said the wrong thing or did the wrong thing that everyone would know his secret, that everyone would point and stare and treat him like the freak he knew he was.
He heard the door slide open and feigned sleep. For one crazy instance, he was sure that it had happened—that his willpower had finally transported him back to those days that were the best days he had ever known. For an instant, he was listening to the voice of one of his best friends, a fellow Marauder, a voice he had once known he would never hear again. He slitted his eyes narrowly and was sure of it. James was back. No. That was impossible. He was never coming back. Taking in the slight figure, the rumpled black hair, the green eyes…Wait. James didn't have green eyes. So close. Almost, but not quite. The past was gone. He should never forget that. As he listened to the boy talk to his friends, listened to Harry talk to his friends, his heart shattered. That his first words were about Him, about The Traitor, was just an extra blow to an already broken psyche. This would be harder than he had thought.
AN: Reviews are my favorite. This one might have one more chapter or several more chapters…I haven't yet decided.