Title: In Your Eyes
Author: Sinope (Platypus_pinky@yahoo.com)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: J.K. and her various publishers own all the recognizable characters, situation, et cetera…
Summary: "I was unable to cry during his funeral." (Ginny, Remus – OotP spoilers)
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I was unable to cry during his funeral. I knew it wasn't because we had just started to get acquainted before his death, like I reckoned most of the others assumed, but the fact his death just seemed beyond belief. There was no body or casket in the darkened room, nor would there be a tombstone afterwards. All that was left, was a room with a handful of mourners and the memory of man. I surveyed all those gathered in the drawing room with a keen eye from my corner, noticing I wasn't alone in my denial.
I never remembered Remus ever looking so despondent. His once warm eyes were now fixed glumly to a picture that he had clutched in his hands. I recognized the disbelief in his eyes, because I've seen it in my own. Before my mind could reconsider a wiser action I approached my old professor, my footfalls echoing off the walls of the quiet room.
I could tell he knew I was by his side, but he made no sound or movement to acknowledge my presence. A silent, impossibly long minute passed between the two of us and I started to turn away from him, but one word stopped me --
"Ginny."
Wordlessly, I turned back to him. Remus' eyes never rose from the photo of the three boys lounging lethargically under a breech tree by a lake, but I suppose that it was for the better. I haven't even looked into anyone's face all evening, feeling that if I looked into the eyes of one of the mourners then his death would become real.
I wondered if Remus had the same reason as me, but I felt it would be inappropriate to question him about it. My body jolts slightly when I feel one his clammy hands gently brush my arm, bringing me out of my reverie and leaving me to stare absently at the crown of his bent head.
"Remus?"
Remus clears his throat noisily and places the photo in his robe pocket. He addresses me softly without looking up, "I think I need some fresh air."
I knew that in telling me this, he was asking me to accompany him. Without question I follow him out of the drawing room full of mourners and the palpable silence of the house, always a step or two behind. I shut the door to the house quietly behind us and remain facing it, staring fixedly at the chipped green paint that coated it. The fine hairs on the back of my neck and arms stood in forewarning and I knew without seeing that Remus was looking directly at me.
I could feel my body become tense and my shallow breaths seemed to be the only noise within miles. Remus wanted me to turn around and look at him, but I couldn't bring myself to look into his sad eyes. If I looked at Remus I knew our skepticism would fade ... and he would be dead.
"Ginny," Remus voice was sad and pleading, "look at me."
I squared my shoulders and inhaled deeply. Slowly, I turned away from the door with my eyes still gazing somberly at the ground. A shaky hand reached out from in front of me and lifted my chin up. I saw his watery eyes and reality came crushing around the both of us in the garden in front of the Burrow.
"Sirius is dead."