Healing a warrior

Shards of glass shattered against the wall, amber liquid spilling from the smashed bottle. The kitchen was a mess, as was the man slumped on the table. Black hair stuck up at all angles on his head and barely healed scrapes covered his arms. The torn baggy clothing he was wearing looked as though it had been slept in and needed to be washed. From his hand a bottle of firewiskey was loosely held. The man raised his head to take a sip from the bottle. His face was even worse then the rest of his appearance. Thin and pale the man's face could have been a skeleton. A scar stood out bright red on his forehead. Dull green eyes had the look of someone who has seen too much. The eyes were filled with despair and sadness. No one would assume that this starved and ragged figure was the savior of the wizarding world, yet he was. At that moment the fireplace glowed and an older man steeped out. Dusting himself off Remus Lupin straightened up. It hurt him to be back here in the place of Sirius' imprisonment so soon after his death but he was becoming really worried about the distraught man in front of him.

"Remus," finding his presence acknowledged with a wave, Remus steeped forward, his eyes taking in the appearance of the place. Though number 12 had not been grand in a long time it was now even worse then Remus had ever seen it. Stains of whiskey covered the walls and table along with a thick coat of dust that had fostered there. A pile of unread mail covered one end of the table, and shards of glass littered the floor. "You look tired." Harry Potter continued, gesturing to the seat next to him. Remus scoffed.

"Compared to you I look like a model."

"Oh I don't sleep not since…" Harry's brusque tone did not match his eyes. Harry didn't finish the sentence but Remus knew that he was specking about Sirius' death earlier this summer. Remus frowned taking in the rest of his appearance.

"Gathered much?" Harry's sarcastic voice broke through Remus' musings.

"No you interrupted me. Shall I continue out loud?" at Harry's idle wave he did. "Well you haven't slept in weeks. Your hair is matted with blood. You haven't healed the cuts from the department of mysteries-" at his words a flash of intense agony passed over Harry's face. "Your clothes are baggy, torn, slept in, and in need of washing." Harry's dry chuckle caused Remus to start but Harry simply raised the bottle to his lips again. "You are drinking way too much. You fear the prophecy. You haven't eaten or cleaned up this room. And your face is sporting a few bruises, which you are trying to hide." At his words Harry jerked a hand to his face.

Grimacing slightly he straightened up, "Got it in one. I'd forgotten how damn observant werewolves are."

"I wasn't finished." Remus looked at him sternly and Harry held up his hands in mock surrender. "Someone has obviously beaten you. You don't do much except hurl firewiskey bottles at the wall. Wherever you ran from you are wearing the same clothes as when you left. You have been taking pain numbing and forgetfulness potions. Oh, and there is a tattoo on you arm of a falling phoenix." Silence greeted Remus' appraisal. Then Harry smiled, not the carefree smile of a youth but rather the forced smile of someone who feels as though they would never again deserve happiness.

"So acute. Even with the assumptions around the bruise." Harry fingered the rings around his eye unconsciously. "Anyway, never mind that. Can I get you a drink?"

"No." Remus knew that Harry had not accepted his godfather's death, but he had not accepted to see such a picture of profound despair and depression. "I'll leave you to it shall I? Unless of course you would care to accompany me and get some rest?" All he got in response was derisive laughter. In the front hall the spot that held Mrs. Black's portrait was blank. All that remained was a large scorch mark, such as the one the obscured Sirius' name on the Black Family Tree.

Sometime late in the night Remus realized that Harry had not come upstairs. Standing up he walked softly through the decrepit house. As he opened the door Harry leaned forward. His mouth began to form the beginning of Sirius' name, then he recognized Remus and slumped back defeated.

"Harry…Harry? Can you hear me?" An anxious voice broke through the haze in Harry's mind. Why wouldn't the voice leave? He just wanted to rest. But he would have to get up and cook the bacon because his Uncle Vernon would hit him. His nose still pounded, it was probably broken. Then the haze disbursed, Harry remembered where he was. The memories of the past month came rushing back. Sirius falling, his last laugh still etched on his face. And Remus, holding him back. If he hadn't; if he had let him run to his godfather; then maybe, maybe Sirius would still be here. Maybe…But no matter it was always his fault. "Harry" Remus pulled Harry up on to a chair and pushed his long hair out of his face. "Harry listen to me you need to come back, to wake up. What happened to Sirius was not your fault. You need to stop blaming yourself."

"Yes it is. I shouldn't have listened to Riddle. I shouldn't have gone."

"Harry you fought for someone you love what's wrong with that?" Remus looked up into Harry's clouded green eyes. So like Lily's those eyes that were once so full of life now looked dead and empty.

"Yes it is. It's wrong when the person you love dies. Dies, because of you. How can that be alright?" Harry's eyes rose to Remus' face and searched it for an answer.

"The pain does not go away but it does fade." Remus' voice filled with compassion and empathy for the boy sitting in front of him.

"I don't want it to fade. It's all I have left." Harry's anguish was clear on his voice.

"Don't let your last memories be of sadness and despair. If you can't be totally content aspire for tranquility. Don't let your grief over power you. If it's any consolation after, after James and Lily, after they died. I lost myself. I drank to compensate the pain. I was sure that it was my fault. The prejudice against war-wolves was the cause of their death, I convinced myself. Maybe if they had told be more, trusted me more. Well it wasn't pretty. I could not even think of you till at least five years after their deaths when I began to pick up the pieces. I was foiled at every turn when I tried to get you away from Vernon and Petunia. It really was only after I met Sirius that I was truly able to heal. Now it's been 15 years and for the first time they are all truly gone. But you can't lock yourself up Harry, Sirius would not have wanted that. Besides life is a flittering thing. Please promise me that you will live. Promise me that you will recover. Promise you will not pine for him. Don't wallow in despair and forget to live Harry." Remus halted his tirade to look imploringly at him. Harry shook his head.

"What's the use?"

"Promise me." Finally Harry slowly nodded his head conceding to Remus' beseechingtone.

"I'll try."

As dawn broke Harry walked down the ornate stairs with trepidation and out on to the green. It was cold and the moon shown overhead. Slowly as though driven by an unseen force Harry raised his wand. "Expecto Patronum," he whispered. The silver stag billowed out from the tip. Suddenly there were footsteps behind him, turning Harry saw Remus walking down the steps.

"Prongs." He whispered. The stag inclined his adorned head. No longer simply a phantom the stag now seemed, for an instant to embody the soul of their lost father, and brother. Then bright golden lights swirled around Remus, and he transformed into the creature that Harry had seen once before. Quickly he took a tremulous step back but Moony seemed tranquil. Both of the two friends looked to their left where another shower of sparks appeared. When they cleared there stood the phantom of a shaggy black dog.

"Padfoot." Harry's voice cracked and broke. "Si-sirius, Remus, D-D-Dad." All three of the marauders nodded Harry stood surrounded by his father and his godfather, and the strongest man he ever knew. Slowly Harry began to sob his tears racing down his face clearing the grime and dirt as they did. Sobbing Harry cried how he had never wanted them to die. How he could not go on with this fight. He could not keep going. Then slowly as the first tears since Sirius had died dried he looked up into the stags hazel eyes. Harry took an audible breath. "Thank you father. I can abstain from this war. But it comes whether I will it or not. And if I do then they die." Harry stopped and his voice was stronger and more impassive when he continued. "And then you would have died in vain. So I will fight this war. I will win this fight. For you. For all of you." Harry took one last breath. Standing up. "Thank you. And I love you all so much." Just as he finished the sun came up swathing everything in gold. As the glow danced along the house it encircled them. Prongs bowed his antlered head, Padfoot yelped joyfully, and Moony gave a soft growl. "Thank you." Harry murmured softly, "I will fight on."

THE END