A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for Hogwarts. Prompts listed below. :)
Ghost Hunting Task 2: Write about someone setting a fire
Word Count: 3427
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Those rights go to JK Rowling.
WARNINGS: Depression, thoughts of suicide, slight language
Enjoy!
It was dark. That was the first thing Remus noticed. Then he realized it was cold—freezing, in fact. He didn't much care, though. Not anymore.
He was staying in Wales, in a little cottage far from other human inhabitants. The house hadn't been used in years, as far as Remus could tell, and though he could use magic to warm himself up, he didn't. Right then, he wanted to feel the dull ache of winter. He hadn't been able to feel anything else lately.
Remus sat on the cold, stone floor, his blue fingers gripping a stack of letters tightly. The senders all differed, but all had to do with the Order. Ever since it had been discovered that a spy was in their ranks, he'd been given tasks that placed him far out of the reach of human civilization. Remus tried not to believe that Albus Dumbledore, who was like a second father to him and a man he greatly respected, suspected him of being the spy, but it was difficult. What hurt even worse was the fact that now he knew for certain that Sirius believed him to be.
Sirius Black. His brother in everything but blood. The war had torn them apart, and Remus knew it was only a matter of time until James took Sirius' side. After all, they had always been the closest of the four of them. And once James believed him to be the traitor, Lily would follow. His only hope was that Peter would take more convincing, but the other had always gone along with James.
Remus raised a shaky hand and ran it through his shaggy brown hair. His fingers brushed against one of the scars on his face, and a fresh wave of hatred for himself overtook him. It was the sharpest emotion he'd felt since he'd arrived in Wales nearly three weeks ago, and it startled him. He didn't try to suppress it; he let it fester inside of him, twisting and spiking until it was an insurmountable force living inside of him, almost as powerful as the wolf itself.
The consciousness inside him was the cause of every hardship he had ever faced. The beast that stole his body every month left behind traces of itself upon everything it touched, including Remus himself. No one was safe from its clutches, and sometimes Remus wondered why he bothered trying to protect everyone from it. Why he shouldn't just let himself bleed out one morning and save everyone the trouble—
He shook his head at himself, his throat dry. He couldn't do that. That is not what his friends would want. And if he completed this mission, went back to do the next one—no matter how useless it really was—then the spy would eventually be caught, and they would apologize for suspecting him, and he'd forgive them. Because that's what Remus did. He forgave people.
Remus glanced back down at the letters in his lap. With a thought, he grew a flame in his hand, watching it for a moment. Then, his amber eyes reflecting the fiery tongues, he leaned forward and igniting the dry wood in the grate before him. He watched as the flames ate away at the wood greedily, increasing in size and strength. The orange and red streaks licked the air hungrily, and Remus' finger began to tingle from the warmth they were emitting. Slowly, he picked up the first letter.
It was from Dumbledore.
"You—you want me to go to Wales?" Remus repeated, dumbfounded. "But there's nothing there!"
Albus Dumbledore sighed, his face pale in the light of the candles lighting Remus' kitchen. "My boy, there are forces everywhere. You know the Welsh countryside best of all other Order members—I'd like you to watch it. There have been rumored Death Eater sightings, and I know that you are more than capable of discovering the truth."
Remus' shoulders slumped. "If you think it's worth it, sir."
Dumbledore's smile was gentle. "I do, my boy. Your talents will be put to good use there."
Remus didn't agree, but he stood there silently as the headmaster bade him farewell and showed himself out. Once his visitor was gone, he sank into one of the chairs around the kitchen table miserably. He dropped his head into his hands and groaned. This was the third mission in a row that didn't seem to have any relevance to what the Order was trying to accomplish, and he hadn't even been in London three days since his return from the last one. He couldn't help but feel that everyone was trying to keep him out of the way.
Despite his feelings on the matter, Remus stood up and walked into his bedroom, pulling out his suitcase so he could begin packing. If this was the only way they would allow him to fight the war, he'd take it—the last thing he wanted was to sit around and let others risk their lives for him.
Remus balled his fist, crumpling the letter in the process. The letter was just another empty reassurance that Lily, James, and Harry were safe, but Remus didn't know why the old man bothered. What good was knowing they were alive if he couldn't even see them? For all he knew, he may not see them again before his death—who knew how long the war would last? All he wanted was to see his family again, even if they didn't want to see him.
Remus tossed the letter into the fire, satisfied when he saw how it blackened and fell apart. The worthless words Dumbledore had sent to him—gone.
It was almost freeing, like he was watching some of his worries burn away. He picked up the next letter, quickly skimming through it. This one was from James.
"One day, Remus, we won't have to hide anymore. We'll live in a world that's proud of the people in it—all of them."
Remus scoffed, glancing at the messy-haired man on his right. "Prongs. You don't have to hide. There is nothing the world incriminates you for—unless you count your blood traitor status."
James shrugged, plopping down on the bench next to his friend. They were in the middle of a Muggle park, spending one last day of relaxation before they began working for the Order. Sirius and Peter were off elsewhere, and Lily was shopping with Alice Longbottom.
"Moony, mate, I'm lumping myself in with you. They mess with one Marauder, they mess with all of us, you know?"
"I guess." His voice was soft. While he appreciated the support, he worried sometimes that when they saw just how terribly he was treated, his friends would be more reluctant to stand at his side. After all, they had their own lives to live—they couldn't just spend them protecting his.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see James' hazel eyes peering at him worriedly. "Remus," his friend murmured, "it's going to be okay. The war… we'll finish it. Then things will be better."
Remus smiled back sadly. "You can't promise that, James."
"Yes, I can," he insisted. "You'll get your justice. The world will look at you and wonder how it could have ever slighted you."
Remus snorted, but his heart was glowing. "You certainly are building me up, assuming the world might one day know my name."
"You're welcome," James chirped. Then he clapped Remus on the back. "Really, mate, they will. I can feel it."
Remus leaned back in his seat. "I hope so. We… we just have to win this war."
James sighed heavily. "I know. Believe me, I know. Too much is at stake."
They were silent for a long moment, staring at the clear blue sky above them.
"I'll protect you," James said suddenly, startling Remus. When the werewolf opened his mouth to protest, James continued. "I know that's not what you want to hear. Hell, I know that you don't need protecting. But Moony, they… they're targeting you and Lily—for two different reasons—and I promise you that I won't let them touch you."
Remus was openly staring at his friend now, caught between feeling touched and the urge to scowl at James for treating him like someone who couldn't defend himself. "Prongs, that's nice, but I can take care of myself."
"I know," James repeated. "But the last thing I want is to sit around while the people I love are in danger."
Remus looked away. "I'm not going to be their victim."
"Merlin, Remus, I'm not trying to offend you. I'm just trying to let you know that your problems aren't yours alone to carry."
Remus clasped his hands together, staring at the criss-cross of white scars weaving around his palms and wrists. "I—I know. I'm sorry, James. I guess I can't help but think that one day… one day you won't be here, and they will be my burden to carry."
James slung an arm around Remus, pulling him into a tight embrace. "You're my family, Moony. I promise that as long as I'm alive, I will do everything in my power to make sure that doesn't happen."
Remus returned the hug, comforted. "The same goes for you, Prongs. And… thank you."
James' smile was blinding. "You, mate, are most definitely welcome. Now, come on—we'd better head back home."
Remus grinned and nodded. He stood up, and though the war was looming over them, Remus was just happy to have someone who cared about him as much as James did.
He carefully set that letter aside. It was just a simple update on the Potters' life, but he valued the insight on little Harry's well-being. A pang of sadness coursed through him; he sorely missed James and his family. He couldn't quite believe that his nephew was growing up without him.
But it was necessary. Better Harry have a life away from him than no life at all.
He shivered when he thought about the probability of that actually happening. He knew, right then, that he would do everything in his power to protect that boy—even if he had to do it by keeping his distance.
Remus felt the cold sting of the wind slipping through the cracks in the walls, and he shuffled closer to the fire. He lifted his hands and held them over the flames, the heat almost enough to burn him. He closed his eyes. Flashes of blood on the walls flitted through his brain, the echoes of groans, the cold, always the cold—they never quite destroyed him, but they always came so close.
He opened his eyes once more. If he just lowered his finger, he could burn himself. He would have control of that pain, unlike the rest of it. All he had to do was will it, and his muscles would obey.
But he pulled his hand away. There wouldn't be much point. It would hurt him, and he would gain nothing from it.
Remus picked up the next letter, ignoring the pain in his chest.
This one was from Sirius.
"I don't know why you're here. You said enough after the Order meeting yesterday," Remus stated coldly when he saw who was on the other side of the door. He didn't know why Sirius had come to his flat, but he was knew that nothing good could come from this visit.
"Can I come in?"
Remus didn't respond for a moment. He and Sirius had been biting each other's heads off in recent months, and to be perfectly honest, he wasn't sure if he was ready to face more emotional turmoil.
Sirius ran a hand through his long, dark hair, damp from the rain outside. His shoes were leaving wet spots on the hallway carpet, and Remus had the urge to dry it with his wand. "Remus. I just want to talk."
Remus sighed and stepped aside, but his face was guarded. They'd been friends for nearly ten years, yet sometimes Remus looked upon the other man and saw only a stranger. War had made enemies of them all. "You can talk, but don't you dare yell at me." His voice was hoarse from the full moon the previous night, but his glare was as piercing as ever. "I can't yell back tonight."
Sirius held his hands up in defence, slipping into the room. "I hear you. How… how was last night?"
Remus shut the door, his back to Sirius. He never could control his emotions as well as he wanted the day after the full moon, and he didn't want Sirius to see how much it hurt that Padfoot hadn't shown up. Wormtail had been there, though Prongs had been busy with a sick Harry to attend to.
"If you really wanted to know the answer to that," Remus croaked, "then you would have been there."
Sirius winced. "I had other things to do. If I hadn't been busy—"
Remus snorted. "Right. Why have you come here?"
Sirius rubbed the back of his neck, his grey eyes flitting side to side. "I would have been there," he muttered. "I just thought maybe you wouldn't want me to be… after what I said."
Remus walked into the kitchen and turned the kettle on; he needed a cup of tea. "You thought wrong. You staying away… now I'm starting to think you meant it."
There was no answer. Remus turned to see his friend standing with his hands in his pockets, his eyes on the floor. He was completely still, which was completely unlike Sirius.
Slowly, Remus nodded. "I see. You think I would betray you all to Voldemort, just for what—a handful of galleons? Better living conditions? All I've ever wanted I have—the only people who can take it away from me are you, James, and Peter."
Sirius closed his eyes. "Remus—"
"No!" Remus slammed his hands down on the counter, shaking. "I'm tired of you and your empty promises—you say you know me, that you'll never leave me, that my condition doesn't matter, yet the second we discover there's a traitor in our midst, your eyes immediately find me. Tell me the truth. Do I disgust you? Was I a game—an outlet for your love of danger? Do you think of me as a monster?"
He was right up in Sirius' face; they were nose-to-nose. "When you look at me, do you see some feral beast?"
"No. I don't. And you weren't a game—I cared about you!"
Remus leaned back, crossing his arms. "But not anymore?"
"Where do you keep going?" Sirius burst out, his eyes a little wild. "What aren't you telling us?"
"I have told you," Remus said, frustrated. "I'm going on missions for Dumbledore. It isn't my fault he wants to keep them secret!"
"You're barely around anymore!" Sirius shouted. "Whenever you are back in London, you don't come to see us. You're distancing yourself from us, and I want to know why."
"Well, you haven't exactly been welcoming!" Remus exploded, his throat burning with pain. "Maybe when I get back, I just want to try and get some sleep—"
"You've been acting strangely lately, and it's not just because you're tired! Tell me the truth. You owe me that, at least."
Remus took a step back, looking at the other man in disbelief. "Owe you?" he hissed. "I don't owe you anything, Sirius Black. What could you have possibly done that I owe you for?"
Sirius scoffed, and his hands curled into fists. Remus recognized the tell-tale signs of his temper about to explode, but he ignored the danger. He could handle his friend's rage.
"I know you're the expert on avoiding things, but I'm not going to let you distract me from getting this answer."
Remus closed his eyes. How was he supposed to say that he was afraid that the war would open everyone's eyes? How could he express his fear that his friends would realize just how radical their views towards his kind were and leave him? These weren't things he wanted to say to Sirius, especially when the only thing the man had done recently was support those fears.
Sirius seemed to sense some of this. "Remus. You matter, and your voice matters. Especially to me. But if you shut me out, then I can't afford to listen to you. I have to be sure that Lily and James aren't in danger. So give me reason to believe that I don't have to fear for them."
Remus' eyes stung as he looked back up at his friend. "What have I done to make you think they weren't safe from me?"
Sirius' face hardened. "Stop avoiding answering, Remus. Your secrecy is ill-timed. Give me a reason to believe you."
Remus wrapped his arms around himself, shivering from either despair or the cold. "We aren't in school anymore. This isn't some elaborate plan to cause mischief that requires us to know every detail. This is my life, and I'm not going to let you barge in and demand to know every aspect. I have done nothing to deserve this—this interrogation. So just leave me alone."
Sirius grabbed Remus' shoulders, shaking him and jostling his aching body. "This is the safety of my godson we're talking about. I will do anything to protect him. And if that means that I have to compromise your trust—then I hope you can forgive me one day."
Rage twisted Remus' insides. It wasn't fair of Sirius to expect so much of him—to expect him to forgive a betrayal so serious. This was just like what had happened when they were in school. This time, though, there was no James to pull the victim away from the wolf's hungry jaws. This time, Sirius will have done real damage, and Remus wasn't ready to forgive and forget.
"Get out," he whispered.
Sirius' eyes widened briefly before narrowing. "You're not going to say anything to defend yourself?"
"I shouldn't have to defend myself from you," Remus growled. "That's what you swore to me. Think what you want; you're the only person here who's broken any promises."
Sirius was silent for a long time. Remus was just about to force him out because Merlin, he was tired and he wanted to be alone, when Sirius spoke.
"I feel like everything that comes out of your mouth is a cry for help."
Remus took a step back in surprise. "What?"
Sirius turned slowly towards the door. "You heard me. You're always telling us to leave you alone, but then you go and remind us of our promises to you. You're begging to be saved, Remus, but you push us away every time we try. But we can't save you from what's coming. You have to do that on your own."
He left the flat then, leaving Remus gaping in the empty room. He turned back to the kitchen, pulling out his wand to reheat his forgotten cup of tea. His mind was whirling. He wasn't weak. He wasn't begging anyone to come save him—he was begging for a chance, a second thought. He wanted acceptance; maybe he wanted it too much.
He put his head in his hands and groaned. This was too much. Everything was too much. He just wanted things to go back to the way they were before.
But he knew the likelihood of that was slim.
Remus didn't even have to think. Without reading the contents of the letter, he threw it into the flames, watching as the parchment crumpled to ashes. He had no interest in reading what Sirius has written; if it was an apology, then he could do that in person—if it was just more accusations, then the other man could stuff it.
Remus stood up and left his spot on the floor, walking towards the broken window on the adjacent wall. The fire was crackling angrily behind him, but he ignored it for the moment. He leaned his forehead against the wet wood of the wall as rain began to softly hit his face. He was cold. It was so, so cold here. And he didn't know how to warm up without burning himself.
The letters were gone, but the memories remained. He couldn't burn them away, nor could he freeze them to death. They lived as long as he did.
But there were the good ones; the ones with James. And though those might soon be tainted, he wanted to keep them. They were the sun, and they hadn't scorched him yet.
A/N: Prompts:
Writing Club:
Character Appreciation: 16. (physical appearance) scars (Sirius is featured)`
Disney Challenge: Songs 3. You're Welcome — Alt. Use the dialogue "You're welcome."
Lizzy's Loft: 3. Daniel Howell — Alt. Write about someone with depression.
Book Club: April — (word) justice, (dialogue) "You matter, and your voice matters.", (word) radical
Showtime: 6. Miracle of Miracles — (color) red
Lyric Alley: 16. To live my life the way I want
Ami's Audio Admirations: 11. The Crystal Kingdom — Alt. (color) black
Sophie's Shelf: 19. Mischief
Emy's Emporium: 17. (Bonus) Nostalgia — write a story using flashbacks
Angel's Arcade: 11. Pasadena O'Possum — (emotion) happy, (trait) long hair, (word) expert, (relationship) long term friends
Lo's Lowdown: Characters 6. Luke Cage — Write about somebody who feels a responsibility to protect the people around them.
Bex's Basement: 7. Iron Man 3 — Write about fire
Film Festival: 10. (dialogue) "I feel like everything that comes out of your mouth is a cry for help."
Fantastic Beasts:
27. Phoenix — (word) fire; 80. Switzerland — (character) Remus Lupin