This is the third part of La Lune D'or Cycle. The first is Hang the Moon and the second is Pacing the Cage. As I've explained with the others I am writing the part simostaniously, so when I write a chapter I will post. I really hope you enjoy, I have been wanting to get this fic on paper for a while.

pls review and tell me what you think.

lurf punkirish

Part Three of La Lune D'or Cycle

Will someone please call a surgeon
Who can crack my ribs and repair this broken heart
That you're deserting for better company?
I can't accept that it's over...
I will block the door like a goalie tending the net
In the third quarter of a tied-game rivalry

So just say how to make it right
And I swear I'll do my best to comply

Tell me am i right to think that there could be nothing better
Than making you my bride and slowly growing old together

I feel must interject here you're getting carried away feeling sorry for yourself
With these revisions and gaps in history
So let me help you remember.
I've made charts and graphs that should finally make it clear.
I've prepared a lecture on why i have to leave

So please back away and let me go
I can't my darling i love you so...

Tell me am i right to think that there could be nothing better
Than making you my bride and slowly growing old together
Don't you feed me lines about some idealistic future
Your heart won't heal right if you keep tearing out the sutures

I admit that i have made mistakes and i swear
I'll never wrong you again
You've got a lure i can't deny,
But you've had your chance so say goodbye
Say goodbye
- Nothing Better, Postal Service

Drawing Down the Moon

Chapter One

Remus hated it, he hated being so useless, sitting in Saint Mungo's, with bandages on his hands, arms and chest. At least you're alive, the nurse would joke, and he'd smile but only half-heartedly. Sometimes he just wished he'd died. Right now wasn't even close to an exception. He just wanted to will himself into the bed sheets and out of his life.

"Remus," Her smile was almost too good to be true.

"Celeste?"

"Yes, who else would it be? I haven't gone suddenly weird have I, and gone as dressed like your mum or Margaret Thatcher?"

It hurt so much to laugh but inside he was very much grateful for those words.

She pulled up a chair, and slipped in beside him. She rested a soft pale hand over his, on the coverlet. Through his bandages he could feel her drawing circles in his skin; the pain was already starting to ebb away.

"You don't look to good."

He closed his eyes; he couldn't bear to see whatever would haunt him in her green orbs. Pitty most likely would grave her fine features. But she didn't say anything else, and creatively masked herself, and he basked in their comforting dual silence.

"I'm so bloody useless!" He shouted or more it felt like he shouted, but he hadn't used his voice in some time, and it came out more like a forced whisper.

She just smiled, the smile that tugged at her lips lighting up her eyes in mirth.

Remus tried to scowl, but it didn't quite work as planned, and she smiled more.

"I sound like Sirius don't I?"

But she didn't answer, but Remus was used to it, she didn't talk much anymore, not that Celeste Griffith's ever was much of a talker, but she talked even less now.

"Celeste."

She turned her head, titling it to the side like she did when she listened to someone.

"Why are you still here?" It had been 2 weeks and still everyday she'd come to visit him at St. Mungo's.

"Because you're here, you haven't gone daft have you? Too many Crucio's can do that to someone. " And he saw her frown just a bit before going back to her book.

"Thanks." He wanted to say more, maybe comfort her, thanks just sounded so lifeless and banal.

"There's no need to thank me Remus."