Title: Memories
Rating: PG (just to be safe.)
Disclaimer: Although I often wish that I could own Remus, Sirius, or even Severus, I admit that I do not, or ever will.
Summary: Sirius' death finally hits Remus. Angsty. Please R&R.
(A/N: Well, this is my first satisfactory attempt of mine at HP fanfiction. Constructive criticism is welcome, or, actually, I would like to encourage it. ^^ Thanks for reading it, ~Arodeth)
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Remus sat on his bed, trying his best not to lose control of those powerful emotions that haunted him. It was his nature, really, to hide his emotions- even though there was no one to hide them from. Only himself. But now, now he had to let it out. The ocean of pain and sadness that was flooding his mind, body and spirit had become too great. He had to let it out.
Remus' clear amber eyes began to leak the salty tears he had tried his hardest to hold back. A wolf-like howl filled the air as images of Sirius' death paraded themselves through Remus' mind. He couldn't believe it. He just couldn't believe it. His best friend had died. He was now the only true marauder left. Oh, what he would give to have fallen through the ghostly veil instead of Sirius. Sirius deserved to be alive. He had Harry to live for, while Remus had nothing. Sirius had had such an awful life. So many horrible years in Azkaban, while his only friend thought him guilty. Guilty for heaven's sake. What had led Remus to believe such a wrong idea? He let out another wolf-like wail when he realized how horrible Sirius must have felt for twelve years, thinking that Remus didn't believe him.
Remus' shoulders heaved as he let himself go. "Padfoot." he sobbed, "why did it have to be you?"
Remus suddenly stood up, his tear-stained face set with a sudden determination. He walked unsteadily to the kitchen. New tears spilled from his eyes at the knowledge of what he was about to do. He silently walked over to a drawer and grabbed a knife. Slowly he brought it to his wrist, ready to say goodbye to the world, but suddenly he stopped.
An old memory, from his school days, suddenly hit Remus. It was Snape. He and the marauders had cast a spell on him Christmas morning. He came out to breakfast with green skin and red hair. The marauders had spent the rest of the day laughing about the look on Snape's face when Dumbledore asked him if he had looked in a mirror that morning. It was a sight Remus would never forget. He could remember the feeling, that wonderful feeling of being with his friends, of laughing over a joke. Suddenly a thousand thoughts began running through his mind. "They would never forgive me for doing this. Prongs would never forgive me for leaving his son alone like this. Padfoot would never forgive me for taking my life because he lost his. No."
He dropped the knife, as if he suddenly realized what he was doing. Chuckling at his memory and wiping the last tears from his eyes, he sat down at his desk to compose a letter.
Dear Severus,
I would like to thank you for saving my life today . . .
Rating: PG (just to be safe.)
Disclaimer: Although I often wish that I could own Remus, Sirius, or even Severus, I admit that I do not, or ever will.
Summary: Sirius' death finally hits Remus. Angsty. Please R&R.
(A/N: Well, this is my first satisfactory attempt of mine at HP fanfiction. Constructive criticism is welcome, or, actually, I would like to encourage it. ^^ Thanks for reading it, ~Arodeth)
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Remus sat on his bed, trying his best not to lose control of those powerful emotions that haunted him. It was his nature, really, to hide his emotions- even though there was no one to hide them from. Only himself. But now, now he had to let it out. The ocean of pain and sadness that was flooding his mind, body and spirit had become too great. He had to let it out.
Remus' clear amber eyes began to leak the salty tears he had tried his hardest to hold back. A wolf-like howl filled the air as images of Sirius' death paraded themselves through Remus' mind. He couldn't believe it. He just couldn't believe it. His best friend had died. He was now the only true marauder left. Oh, what he would give to have fallen through the ghostly veil instead of Sirius. Sirius deserved to be alive. He had Harry to live for, while Remus had nothing. Sirius had had such an awful life. So many horrible years in Azkaban, while his only friend thought him guilty. Guilty for heaven's sake. What had led Remus to believe such a wrong idea? He let out another wolf-like wail when he realized how horrible Sirius must have felt for twelve years, thinking that Remus didn't believe him.
Remus' shoulders heaved as he let himself go. "Padfoot." he sobbed, "why did it have to be you?"
Remus suddenly stood up, his tear-stained face set with a sudden determination. He walked unsteadily to the kitchen. New tears spilled from his eyes at the knowledge of what he was about to do. He silently walked over to a drawer and grabbed a knife. Slowly he brought it to his wrist, ready to say goodbye to the world, but suddenly he stopped.
An old memory, from his school days, suddenly hit Remus. It was Snape. He and the marauders had cast a spell on him Christmas morning. He came out to breakfast with green skin and red hair. The marauders had spent the rest of the day laughing about the look on Snape's face when Dumbledore asked him if he had looked in a mirror that morning. It was a sight Remus would never forget. He could remember the feeling, that wonderful feeling of being with his friends, of laughing over a joke. Suddenly a thousand thoughts began running through his mind. "They would never forgive me for doing this. Prongs would never forgive me for leaving his son alone like this. Padfoot would never forgive me for taking my life because he lost his. No."
He dropped the knife, as if he suddenly realized what he was doing. Chuckling at his memory and wiping the last tears from his eyes, he sat down at his desk to compose a letter.
Dear Severus,
I would like to thank you for saving my life today . . .