The Agony of Never Knowing
by
Christina Hilt
Sirius,
I know it may seem strange for me to be sending you a letter, but there are some things I want to say to you that I can't manage to say to your face. I've tried many times, but I just can't do it.
The other day, when I left, I told you I had to do something for Dumbledore. I think you knew it wasn't true, but I had to leave. I've spent the last couple of days thinking about this, and I know that I have to tell you, but I'm more terrified than I have ever been in my life. When we were making dinner the evening I left, it felt great. It was so much fun to joke around like we used to. You get so down, staying in that house all the time. I know it must be difficult for you, and it was good to see you in such a fun mood. You were laughing the way you did before Azkaban, as though it had never happened.
When you tripped over the stool, and fell on your face, we were both laughing, but as I helped you up … oh, Merlin, I don't know if I can even write this … I wanted to kiss you.
That's why I rushed out so quickly. You know that you've always meant the world to me, and the thought of doing anything to make you uncomfortable or harm our friendship is torture, but it's torture to live like this, too. I think I've felt this way since we were at school, although I didn't realize it then. We both went out with girls, but neither of us ever seemed really serious - I know I wasn't. Neither of us ever seemed to see girls in the same way as James - I never even imagined myself getting married, like James and Lily. When I thought you had betrayed them, it nearly killed me. I lost interest in everything and everyone, and never had any thought of getting involved during all the time you were away. I never really thought about why. If I had, I would probably have told myself it was because I was a werewolf. It would be too dangerous or too complicated to get involved with a woman. Werewolves can't get too mixed up in those kinds of relationships. But it wasn't that.
It was only after I saw you again that I realized the truth. I've never been interested in any woman or any other man, because there could never be anyone but you. You're a part of my soul.
I have no idea how you feel about me. I know that your friendship is completely true, but this letter may destroy that completely. Looking back over our time at Hogwarts, and the time we have spent together since you came back, I think I have seen feelings in you that go beyond friendship. That may be just wishful thinking, but I have to put my faith in it and hope that I've not been fooling myself. If I'm mistaken, I doubt if it will be possible for our friendship ever to be the same again. You accepted my being a werewolf, but my feelings for you may be beyond acceptance.
I know I've probably been fooling myself that you might feel the same way about me, but I have to take that chance. I can't go on living this way - spending so much time with you and not being able to tell you how I feel. I can't go on hiding the fact that I'm in love with you.
If I don't hear from you, I will understand. I'll stay away, if it's what you want.
All I can say is that you are the centre of my life. You are everything, and always will be.
Remus
Remus Lupin allowed the parchment to fall slowly from his hands onto the table in front of him. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks as he screwed up his face in pain.
A sudden strangled cry broke from his throat, and his body was racked with shaking sobs.
Could things have been different?
He remembered well the pain of the decision he had made. It had taken him hours to write the letter, and when it was finished, all he could think was that if he sent it, he might never see Sirius again. How could anyone make a decision like that - to risk absolute despair for a small chance of bliss? He had taken the safer option - to stay silent and not risk being denied the comfort of being near the man he loved.
He had returned to the headquarters of the Order with the unsent scroll safely hidden away. He had hidden his feelings and spent time with Sirius, torn every minute between joy and agony. For weeks, he had switched between certainty that he had made the right decision, and the thought that maybe, just maybe, it would be worth the risk. He still had the letter - he could give it to Sirius any time. And he would know. Finally. Truthfully. He would know whether Sirius could feel the same way.
But now he would never know.
The terror that had held him back - the terror of never seeing Sirius again - had become real.
He screwed up his eyes tighter, trying to blot out the image of Sirius' fall, but it was as clear as it always was - the archway - the curtain. It haunted his days and his nights without relief.
The misery welled up inside him, and his fingers grasped the unsent parchment, tightening around it. If he had told Sirius how he felt, could he have ever known the love he had longed for?
That was the agony. He would never know.