Disclaimer: As you should all know by now, Harry Potter is not mine.
A/N: Yay, postage! Finally got off my butt and uploaded this. So, this story started out as some reflections from the Black sisters on their lives and the war, and it turned into this. Am not exactly sure how. Alas. Anyway, hope you enjoy this. I'm not entirely sure I got the years and/or ages right, but I was too lazy to look them up. So just ignore those little mistakes. Also, this title came from the POA movie soundtrack. It's the incredibly sad song where Remus is talking to Harry about his parents and what not, so I thought it was pretty fitting, albeit slightly unoriginal.
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A Window to the Past
Remus Lupin knew how cruel life could be.
When he was five, a single bite, a set of teeth sunk firmly into his flesh had sealed his fate. The neighbors had moved away not long after; they couldn't ignore the screams that came once a month, and he couldn't stop them from coming no matter how hard he tried. Remus didn't mind so much, he hated the fear that lurked in their eyes, the misunderstanding and resentment and hint of pity that was present every time they looked at him.
At age eleven, Remus thought he would finally have a chance to be normal, even if it was only for pretend. He would go to Hogwarts and learn magic and make friends and maybe even meet a girl. Nobody would judge him because nobody would know his secret. But when Remus arrived at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, the train conductor stared at him with disgust and more than a bit of shock, as if he had been expecting an eight foot tall snarling monster with torn robes and a set of fangs like swords instead of a meek little boy with sandy blonde hair. The snack lady passed by his compartment without stopping to ask if he wanted anything off the trolley, as she did at every other door. She had been shaking. They knew, and it was no different from before.
At Hogwarts, the teachers looked at him with pity and tread cautiously around him, terrified of awakening the beast within. Yet each month like clockwork the thing still awoke and every fragile feeling of confidence or happiness or hope that Remus had built up shattered with an ease that suggested they were made of glass.
At fifteen, James and Sirius had nagged him to read those damned pamphlets McGonagall had handed out for their career counseling sessions. He had finally given in just to shut them up. But after looking through them, Remus had begun to believe that maybe it was possible for him to have a job. He was a prefect, after all, and his marks were exceptionally high. Why not? The Marauders often stayed up late, sprawled across the dormitory discussing their futures. James and Sirius had it all planned out. They were going to become famous aurors, battle You-Know-Who, and maybe play a little professional Quidditch on the side. They even convinced Remus that he had a future too.
At seventeen, Remus met that girl he had always dreamed of. Her name was Laura, and she was, to him, exquisitely flawless. They had started dating, and friendship quickly grew to like, and in no time at all, like turned to love. Still, Remus despaired about telling her his secret. When their relationship had grown too serious to keep her in the dark, he had told her everything. She had run screaming from the room. Remus had never hated the monster more.
By the time Remus turned nineteen, the Ministry had effectively passed a law prohibiting werewolves from attaining any decent professions. Instead, he got a job selling quills and parchment at the nearby bookstore.
Three years later, Remus's world had completely collapsed in one night. James and Lily, murdered in cold blood. Their house, once so full of love and laughter and warmth reduced to nothing more than a pile of bricks. Their faces nothing more than a memory. Harry, off to live with his dreadful Aunt and Uncle. Remus had only met them once, but he was fairly certain that they were the most awful people he had ever known in his entire life, not to mention their complete abhorrence of anything even remotely related to magic. And their nephew certainly qualified as one of those things. Sirius, ever the brave and loyal friend, had shown his true colors. Apparently, they were silver and green. He was off to Azkaban to rot where he belonged. And Peter, blown to smithereens. Remus had never been as close with Peter, but no one deserved to be betrayed by their friends. Yes, the Dark Lord was gone. But no one except Remus seemed to realize that the price they had paid was way too high.
At thirty-four, Remus had met Harry for the first time. When he had first lain eyes upon him that night on the train, Remus had had to bite his tongue to keep from calling him James. It was a dream and a nightmare all at the same time. And then, he had learned the sad truth about that incident all those years ago and seen two of the Marauders again. He gained a friend back that evening and all Remus could think about were the thirteen years they had wasted. Waste. That had been a recurring theme in his life since October 1981.
Two years later, when Remus was thirty-six (he was getting old) he once again lost that friend who had re-entered his life such a short time ago. This time, he was gone for real, not just off on some distant island. Truly and irreversibly dead. He was alone now, engulfed in silence and an all encompassing paralysis. He was no stranger to loneliness. In fact, they were old friends. As he sat in the kitchen at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place (his house, it was strange to have a house) Remus reflected on his life. He had only memories now, some happy but the majority sad and solitary. Three days ago Sirius had fallen in a flash of red (he never did like red all that much, it looked terrible on him). Everyone had families and lives and jobs to attend to, and all Remus had was time. Time to dwell on the past and what used to be. He used to have friends and hopes and dreams too. Now he was alone.
Remus Lupin knew how cruel life could be.
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I bet it would cheer poor Remus up if you reviewed!