Disclaimer: I made up the law firm called Blentare's. I have no idea how
laws are passed in the wizard world, so I made that up, too. The
characters are borrowed from JK Rowling.: Happily-ever-after does not
occur in this story.
Legacy
"The final tally is as follows. Ayes 176. Nays 24. The legislation is passed."
The gavel cracked down, the legislators shuffled their papers and chatted amongst themselves as they slowly exited the hall. Activity in the spectators' gallery was much more frenzied as reporters dashed to try to get quotes from anyone involved. A crowd of them swarmed around Sirius Black as he made his way to the side door, beyond which the press was not permitted.
"Mr. Black, you must be very pleased to see this legislation passed. How do you feel?"
"Did you have any idea that the vote would be so lopsided?"
"Sirius, there's a rumor that your firm is taking up the cause of house elves. Is that true?"
"Mr. Black, today's legislation is popularly referred to as 'Lupin's Law.' Does that -"
But the door closed, with Sirius on one side, and the reporters on the other. To their chagrin, they were quoteless.
The next day's headline screamed in large type across the front page of the Daily Prophet.
"Lupin's Law Passed - Full Rights Granted to Werewolves."
'The vocal opposition to what has become known as Lupin's Law proved to be the last croak of a benighted minority. Proponents of the law, which grants full rights of human citizenship to lycanthropes, have fought for its passage for almost ten years. It was finally passed by a huge margin in Friday's vote.'
'The law requires all lycanthropes to take Wolfsbane Potion to mitigate the effects of the full moon, and has penalties for failure to do so. This is no hardship, according to David Clarke, spokesman for The Lycanthropy Society. "All lycanthropes want to be able to take their place in society. They want to work, to go to school, to live wherever they choose. The Potion enables us to do that safely and I can't think of a single lycanthrope who would refuse to drink it." The Apothecaries' Union, which lobbied in support of the bill, was also very pleased at the outcome.'
'The greatest impetus over the years for the drafting and passage of this law came from the ceaseless efforts of Blentare's, the respected law firm which, for hundreds of years, has taken on the cause of those who have been unfairly treated by wizard law and the Ministry of Magic. The eloquent testimony of Sirius Black, a principal of the firm, was cited by a number of legislators as a major factor in their decision to support passage of the law. Indeed, the appearance of the charismatic Mr. Black at several hearings drew standing room only crowds of spectators. His experience as a victim of a gross miscarriage of justice, plus his well- known relationship with Mr. Remus Lupin, changed the scope of this legislative fight from mere politics into a personal crusade. Mr. Black was unavailable for comment after the vote.'
Sirius didn't bother reading the rest of the article as he sipped his morning coffee. The fight was over. That's all that mattered. They'd won. It had taken years, but all their efforts had finally paid off. A series of owls had been streaming to the house all morning carrying messages of congratulations.
Sirius stacked them all in a neat pile on his desk. Perhaps he'd answer some of them over the weekend. Maybe not, though. Maybe he'd bring them into the office on Monday and ask one of the law clerks to handle the correspondence. Yes, it was a great victory. He wished it made him feel happy or satisfied at a job well done. But, all he felt was emptiness. Perhaps if he shared the news, he'd feel better. Rising, he picked up his wand and Disapparated.
The warm spring sky arched in a blue perfection unmarred by the presence of a single cloud. Sirius strolled down the gentle slope of the hill towards the young oak tree and the bench beneath it. The tree's leaves glowed impossibly green as leaves do when they're new, freshly unfurled and still untouched by storm or drought. The tree was a friendly guardian, providing shade from the hot rays of the sun in summer, then gracefully welcoming the precious warmth in winter with naked, upraised boughs.
Settling down on the bench, Sirius gazed at the stone monument before him. Tulips bloomed on either side, slender stalks crowned by glowing amber blossoms. They were almost the color of his lover's eyes. Beautiful in their own way, but they couldn't compare. Not even the light of the sun could warm them enough to compare to Remus' eyes. Eyes that danced with laughter and smoldered with lust. Fierce, possessive eyes that blazed with fury at those who sought to harm his mate. Intelligent, pained eyes that gave mute recognition to the incurable illness that defeated him. Sirius would have given his soul to look into those eyes again.
Looking at the dates on the stone, Sirius shook his head in disbelief. "Has it only been four years, Remus? It feels like you've been gone forever. And has it been ten years since we started this fight? How foolish we were, ten years ago, thinking that we could change hearts and minds about werewolves overnight. Well, how foolish *I* was. You always cautioned me that it would take a long time while I was idiotic enough to believe that people had learned something from that war. Learned something from you, from Hagrid, from everyone who fought so hard even if they weren't considered 'human.' "
"But, no, you were right. People don't change so readily. I was fiery and impetuous, wasn't I, thinking I could change the world so quickly? And you were patient and restrained, as always. We had a good balance, you and I. I miss that. I miss you."
"I promised you I wouldn't give up and I didn't. And it finally paid off in the end, Remus. We finally changed the world yesterday. They've passed the law. Lupin's Law. It's a legacy worthy of you. I only wish you had lived to see it."
Sirius fell silent, feeling the familiar pain caused by the holes in his heart and the cracks in his soul. The birds sang, the breeze whispered through the leaves, and his Remus was gone forever.
Footsteps slowly approached behind him and soon the tall form of Harry Potter appeared. "I knew I'd find you here," Harry said quietly, sitting next to his godfather. "Are you okay?"
Sirius shrugged and nodded towards the tombstone. "He deserved better than this. He deserved to see justice done. And I still miss him so much."
"I know." Harry slid his arm around Sirius' shoulders, hating to see the bleak look in his godfather's eyes because there was nothing he could do to change it.
They sat silently for a while, until Sirius got up to leave. Harry stood and as they walked back up the hill, he said, "Come over to the house for dinner tomorrow. The twins haven't seen you in a while and they're getting antsy about it."
Sirius smiled, thinking of Harry's lively, black-haired, three-year-old boys. "I'll be there."
"You know, Sirius, once they're a little older, they'll want to hear stories about Remus, the same way I wanted to hear stories about my parents. Sharing memories helps keep them alive, even if it's only in our minds."
Sirius thought that was a poor substitute, but said nothing. He felt profoundly sad that he had to witness another generation grow up with nothing but stories to connect them to people long gone. People who would have given so much love and wisdom and laughter to these children, if they had lived. Never had Sirius felt as inadequate as those times when he told Harry stories about James and Lily. Harry thrilled to hear these tales, but the most eloquent words in the English language never approached the reality of Lily and James. Words were pale pastels compared to the vibrant colors of a life shared with others. Words were all Sirius had to give, and they were not enough.
What made it even sadder was that Harry seemed to view this as the natural order of things. And now, his own children would grow up with the thin tissue of words instead of the living flesh and blood of their grandparents and Remus. A mediocre substitute, indeed. But, what alternative was there? Sirius resolved to do the best he could for the boys he considered his grandchildren, as he would always do for Harry. They were his family and his support.
The bond between a werewolf and his or her mate is for life. But, for the werewolf, the bond is shattered when the mate dies. Sirius knew that for him, the reverse was not true. The wolf died, but the bond was unbroken. There would never be another partner for Sirius, not in this lifetime. But, perhaps there was indeed a life after death. Perhaps, then he would be reunited with Remus, never to be parted again.
Legacy
"The final tally is as follows. Ayes 176. Nays 24. The legislation is passed."
The gavel cracked down, the legislators shuffled their papers and chatted amongst themselves as they slowly exited the hall. Activity in the spectators' gallery was much more frenzied as reporters dashed to try to get quotes from anyone involved. A crowd of them swarmed around Sirius Black as he made his way to the side door, beyond which the press was not permitted.
"Mr. Black, you must be very pleased to see this legislation passed. How do you feel?"
"Did you have any idea that the vote would be so lopsided?"
"Sirius, there's a rumor that your firm is taking up the cause of house elves. Is that true?"
"Mr. Black, today's legislation is popularly referred to as 'Lupin's Law.' Does that -"
But the door closed, with Sirius on one side, and the reporters on the other. To their chagrin, they were quoteless.
The next day's headline screamed in large type across the front page of the Daily Prophet.
"Lupin's Law Passed - Full Rights Granted to Werewolves."
'The vocal opposition to what has become known as Lupin's Law proved to be the last croak of a benighted minority. Proponents of the law, which grants full rights of human citizenship to lycanthropes, have fought for its passage for almost ten years. It was finally passed by a huge margin in Friday's vote.'
'The law requires all lycanthropes to take Wolfsbane Potion to mitigate the effects of the full moon, and has penalties for failure to do so. This is no hardship, according to David Clarke, spokesman for The Lycanthropy Society. "All lycanthropes want to be able to take their place in society. They want to work, to go to school, to live wherever they choose. The Potion enables us to do that safely and I can't think of a single lycanthrope who would refuse to drink it." The Apothecaries' Union, which lobbied in support of the bill, was also very pleased at the outcome.'
'The greatest impetus over the years for the drafting and passage of this law came from the ceaseless efforts of Blentare's, the respected law firm which, for hundreds of years, has taken on the cause of those who have been unfairly treated by wizard law and the Ministry of Magic. The eloquent testimony of Sirius Black, a principal of the firm, was cited by a number of legislators as a major factor in their decision to support passage of the law. Indeed, the appearance of the charismatic Mr. Black at several hearings drew standing room only crowds of spectators. His experience as a victim of a gross miscarriage of justice, plus his well- known relationship with Mr. Remus Lupin, changed the scope of this legislative fight from mere politics into a personal crusade. Mr. Black was unavailable for comment after the vote.'
Sirius didn't bother reading the rest of the article as he sipped his morning coffee. The fight was over. That's all that mattered. They'd won. It had taken years, but all their efforts had finally paid off. A series of owls had been streaming to the house all morning carrying messages of congratulations.
Sirius stacked them all in a neat pile on his desk. Perhaps he'd answer some of them over the weekend. Maybe not, though. Maybe he'd bring them into the office on Monday and ask one of the law clerks to handle the correspondence. Yes, it was a great victory. He wished it made him feel happy or satisfied at a job well done. But, all he felt was emptiness. Perhaps if he shared the news, he'd feel better. Rising, he picked up his wand and Disapparated.
The warm spring sky arched in a blue perfection unmarred by the presence of a single cloud. Sirius strolled down the gentle slope of the hill towards the young oak tree and the bench beneath it. The tree's leaves glowed impossibly green as leaves do when they're new, freshly unfurled and still untouched by storm or drought. The tree was a friendly guardian, providing shade from the hot rays of the sun in summer, then gracefully welcoming the precious warmth in winter with naked, upraised boughs.
Settling down on the bench, Sirius gazed at the stone monument before him. Tulips bloomed on either side, slender stalks crowned by glowing amber blossoms. They were almost the color of his lover's eyes. Beautiful in their own way, but they couldn't compare. Not even the light of the sun could warm them enough to compare to Remus' eyes. Eyes that danced with laughter and smoldered with lust. Fierce, possessive eyes that blazed with fury at those who sought to harm his mate. Intelligent, pained eyes that gave mute recognition to the incurable illness that defeated him. Sirius would have given his soul to look into those eyes again.
Looking at the dates on the stone, Sirius shook his head in disbelief. "Has it only been four years, Remus? It feels like you've been gone forever. And has it been ten years since we started this fight? How foolish we were, ten years ago, thinking that we could change hearts and minds about werewolves overnight. Well, how foolish *I* was. You always cautioned me that it would take a long time while I was idiotic enough to believe that people had learned something from that war. Learned something from you, from Hagrid, from everyone who fought so hard even if they weren't considered 'human.' "
"But, no, you were right. People don't change so readily. I was fiery and impetuous, wasn't I, thinking I could change the world so quickly? And you were patient and restrained, as always. We had a good balance, you and I. I miss that. I miss you."
"I promised you I wouldn't give up and I didn't. And it finally paid off in the end, Remus. We finally changed the world yesterday. They've passed the law. Lupin's Law. It's a legacy worthy of you. I only wish you had lived to see it."
Sirius fell silent, feeling the familiar pain caused by the holes in his heart and the cracks in his soul. The birds sang, the breeze whispered through the leaves, and his Remus was gone forever.
Footsteps slowly approached behind him and soon the tall form of Harry Potter appeared. "I knew I'd find you here," Harry said quietly, sitting next to his godfather. "Are you okay?"
Sirius shrugged and nodded towards the tombstone. "He deserved better than this. He deserved to see justice done. And I still miss him so much."
"I know." Harry slid his arm around Sirius' shoulders, hating to see the bleak look in his godfather's eyes because there was nothing he could do to change it.
They sat silently for a while, until Sirius got up to leave. Harry stood and as they walked back up the hill, he said, "Come over to the house for dinner tomorrow. The twins haven't seen you in a while and they're getting antsy about it."
Sirius smiled, thinking of Harry's lively, black-haired, three-year-old boys. "I'll be there."
"You know, Sirius, once they're a little older, they'll want to hear stories about Remus, the same way I wanted to hear stories about my parents. Sharing memories helps keep them alive, even if it's only in our minds."
Sirius thought that was a poor substitute, but said nothing. He felt profoundly sad that he had to witness another generation grow up with nothing but stories to connect them to people long gone. People who would have given so much love and wisdom and laughter to these children, if they had lived. Never had Sirius felt as inadequate as those times when he told Harry stories about James and Lily. Harry thrilled to hear these tales, but the most eloquent words in the English language never approached the reality of Lily and James. Words were pale pastels compared to the vibrant colors of a life shared with others. Words were all Sirius had to give, and they were not enough.
What made it even sadder was that Harry seemed to view this as the natural order of things. And now, his own children would grow up with the thin tissue of words instead of the living flesh and blood of their grandparents and Remus. A mediocre substitute, indeed. But, what alternative was there? Sirius resolved to do the best he could for the boys he considered his grandchildren, as he would always do for Harry. They were his family and his support.
The bond between a werewolf and his or her mate is for life. But, for the werewolf, the bond is shattered when the mate dies. Sirius knew that for him, the reverse was not true. The wolf died, but the bond was unbroken. There would never be another partner for Sirius, not in this lifetime. But, perhaps there was indeed a life after death. Perhaps, then he would be reunited with Remus, never to be parted again.