Darkness Falls
Part III: Darkness Rises
Remus led Harry downstairs, and as they went, the voices of the dinner party in the kitchen began growing louder and louder. Harry wanted to stop Remus, to tell him that he really shouldn't be anywhere near Teddy right now with the amount of liquor he'd had already. But Harry didn't say anything. This was Remus, Teddy's father. If he didn't want a drunken almost-stranger around his son, he surely wouldn't be taking Harry straight to him.
Even so, this did nothing to calm Harry's fears. As they drew closer, his legs began to grow wobbly. It was like someone had performed a Jelly Legs Jinx on him without his knowledge. He didn't even know if he could make it all the way down to the kitchen without keeling over. Despite the fact that he trusted Remus implicitly, all Harry could think about were the looks on Ginny's and Andromeda's faces when Harry turned up to their nice quiet dinner just a little bit tipsy.
The closer they got, the more Harry wanted to turn around and run upstairs, just like a stupid child. This wasn't going to end well, he knew it. No matter the reason for it, Harry knew Ginny was going to be furious. She'd already warned him to stay out of sight and to not embarrass her by his current state. As much as Harry thought he'd wanted to push her away, to make his downward spiral as obstacle-free as possible, he suddenly realized that that wasn't what he wanted. That wasn't what he wanted at all. He loved Ginny deeply, and he didn't want to lose her.
Besides, what if Harry was completely hallucinating Remus being there? What if he was so drunk, he was carrying on a conversation with someone who wasn't really there? Harry inwardly cringed when he thought about trying to explain that to Ginny and Andromeda. He imagined that they'd be trying to get him committed to St Mungo's before the sun rose.
But Harry felt unable to stop. This is Remus, Harry kept thinking to himself. One of the people he had been missing with his entire being for the last eight months. One of the people that he didn't think he could go on without. And yet, here Remus was. Leading him…somewhere. This was what Harry had wanted, wasn't it? To have Remus back, to have some of the guidance again that Remus had always brought to his life.
As low an opinion as Harry already had for himself, he knew Remus wouldn't be doing anything that would make things worse for Harry. From the first moment Remus had shown up in his bedroom a few minutes ago, Harry had known was there to help Harry. However he might be doing that. So Harry went.
When they got closer to their destination, Harry slowed his progress, letting Remus go on ahead. Harry waited just around the corner from the kitchen, giving Ginny and Andromeda the chance to react to Remus's presence when he entered. They didn't. He may as well have not been there at all, so Harry decided that they must not see him. That theory, however, got thrown out the window when Remus decided to make himself known.
"Come on, Harry," Remus called.
Still, no one in the kitchen said anything about the fact that a dead man had just entered the room. That was when Harry realized that he was most certainly dreaming, even though none of his recent dreams had ever been like this. Or maybe just going crazy. He wasn't quite sure yet.
Gripping the wall for support, Harry slowly crept around the corner into the kitchen. He really didn't want to be there, and he thought his legs might just give out completely. He shouldn't be doing this - he shouldn't be attempting to interrupt a nice family dinner when he was still pretty damn drunk.
Finally, Harry entered the room fully, but remained pressed up against the wall. He hoped against hope that they wouldn't notice him, even though that seemed like a futile wish. How could they not notice him? Ginny, at least, was facing in Harry's general direction. Surely she would see him, but…she didn't seem to. Harry stood there longer and longer, fully expecting Ginny to look up at him at any minute, to give him a look of pure anger. As far as she was concerned, however, there were only three people in the kitchen, and none of them were grown men.
Neither Harry nor Remus received any sort of acknowledgement at all, and then inexplicably, Harry wished that they would. At the risk of angering Ginny, for the first time in a long time, Harry wanted to be included in something, wanted to be a part of something. For such a long time, he hadn't cared. He'd just wanted to be left alone so he could drink himself into oblivion, but now…
Andromeda and Ginny were seated across from each other at the end of the table. Just to the side, seated in a high chair, was Teddy. Grasped in one chubby little hand, Teddy was holding a stuffed grey wolf toy by one of its front paws. He kept waving it in the air, giggling at the top of his lungs, and waving his other limbs every which way.
Andromeda was using a small spoon to scoop up a tiny bite of her mashed potatoes. She lifted the spoon and held it front of Teddy's lips. He momentarily stopped waving around his stuffed wolf to eat his mashed potatoes. After he swallowed, he went back to waving his wolf through the air, laughing as it went.
Teddy's hair kept shifting in color, seamlessly fading from one shade of blue to the other. Every time he giggled, it exploded into a brilliant sky blue only to darken again to turquoise when he paused to eat a bite of food. Harry had obviously known that Teddy was a Metamorphmagus, but he'd never actually seen Teddy change his appearance.
"His hair…" Harry murmured in awe, but also as a test. Neither Ginny nor Andromeda looked up at the sound of his voice. Harry didn't know whether that was a good thing or not. He had been going on the assumption that this might be a dream, but what if it wasn't? What if this was some horrible, alcohol-induced hallucination? What if he really was losing it?
"It does that when he gets excited," Remus informed him, oblivious to Harry's concerns about his sanity. "It's been happening more and more often as he's gotten older." There was a definite note of pride in Remus's voice, and he wasn't taking his eyes from his son; those were some of the very things Harry himself coveted so much from Remus.
Then Teddy did something else Harry had never experienced from his godson before.
"Gwan!" Teddy exclaimed. He leaned forward in his chair, reaching his free hand over the tray towards Andromeda.
Andromeda immediately scooped up another bite of mashed potatoes in Teddy's baby spoon and held it out for him. Teddy wasted no in gobbling it up before returning to the adventures of his stuffed wolf.
Suddenly no longer afraid of being discovered, Harry pushed himself away from the wall to which he had been clinging. He took a few steps closer to Teddy, almost unable to believe what he had just seen - or heard. Harry wanted to reach out for his godson, to scoop him up in his arms and hug him fiercely for the first word he'd ever heard him speak. Harry, however, remained rooted to his spot. He wasn't exactly in the greatest shape to be around his godson. He wasn't nearly as drunk as he could be, but he still reeked of alcohol. Something stopped Harry, a feeling that he'd somehow be dirtying his godson by coming into contact with him.
A horrible thought struck Harry anyway. A part of him was very well aware that this might not be real, and Harry wondered if Teddy would even know he was there, or if he'd even be able to interact with him at all. Despite the fact that he was now standing in the middle of the room and had spoken aloud, still no one seemed to notice him. He may as well have been invisible. Except to Remus. If he tried to hug Teddy, Harry thought he might find himself holding on to nothing but thin air. He didn't think he could stand that right now. He just didn't.
Turning back to Remus, Harry gaped at him. Harry was unable to form the words, unable to put voice to his own thoughts. What his godson was now quite capable of, Harry found himself failing at. What Harry wanted to ask was when in the bloody hell Teddy had started talking. Not only had Harry missed it, but no one had even told him that Teddy had said his first word. Harry tried not to think about the fact that what Ginny had said was true - he was already missing out on important pieces of his godson's life, and he had done so willingly. Harry had instead chosen to fill his life with nothing more than a few drunken flashes of memory, memories that he'd sooner forget.
Harry realized something for the first time. He was blocking out all the pain he was currently in, but he'd also been blocking himself from forming any new good memories. About all he could remember since Christmas were fights with Ginny and waking up after nightmares with hangovers from hell. That was all his life consisted of now - fighting with the woman he loved and drinking. Sure, there wasn't much pain, which was what Harry had been after all along, but there wasn't much of anything else either.
Remus suddenly spoke, pulling Harry from his mind. "He started talking just after Christmas." Not for the first time, Harry was grateful for Remus's insight into certain things; Remus always understood.
Turning back to Teddy, Harry said, "I can't believe I missed it. And…Merlin, he's eating solid foods! When did…?" Harry trailed off, noticing something else. Now that he got a good look at Teddy, it occurred to Harry just how much his godson had grown in two short months. It wouldn't completely surprise Harry if Teddy showed the signs of trying to walk soon.
Harry had an image of Teddy pulling himself up on a chair and beginning to toddle across the room, all the while, Harry himself would be passed out somewhere upstairs. Harry, who should be watching his godson as he took his first steps. Holding his hand as he struggled to reach the other side of the room.
Harry had missed so much already, and he was starting to feel like the world's worst godfather. Actually, the world's worst person if he was honest. Remus and Tonks wanted Harry to be involved in these milestones in their son's life, and Harry was willingly missing out on them. Willingly putting himself into something close to an alcohol-induced coma while the world passed him by.
Remus could always be counted on. Not a moment too soon, Harry felt Remus's warm and comforting hand fall onto his shoulder. "None of this makes you a bad person," he said firmly.
His mouth dropping open a bit, Harry scoffed. He found himself out of words yet again.
"It doesn't, Harry," Remus reassured. "You've been having a hard time." He said these words slowly and clearly, like he was willing Harry to believe that he spoke nothing but the truth.
"Then why did you bring me down here?" Harry asked, a sob punctuated his words.
Remus didn't reply for a long time. The only sounds in the room were Teddy's continued giggles, the noise of silverware against plates, and the soft chatter of Ginny and Andromeda. Harry wasn't even registering what they were saying; he'd been so consumed with the fact that Remus was here and then with Teddy's accomplishments that he barely even noticed they were there any longer. Besides, neither Andromeda nor Ginny knew he was there; it felt only natural to block them out as well.
When Remus finally answered Harry's question, his tone was slightly apologetic. "I still wanted you to see what you've been missing. I…suppose I wanted you to make an informed decision. If you still want to…do what you're doing, then so be it."
Remus's words hurt Harry's feelings. Not that Harry had wanted anyone to save him. He'd spent the last several months trying to ensure that Ginny wouldn't do just that, after all, and Harry certainly hadn't been expecting anyone else to try and turn his life around. Besides, Harry knew full well that no one could force him to do that; he had to want to make himself better, and he had to make that decision on his own. But this was Remus.
Harry supposed it wasn't really fair, but he sort of held Remus to a different standard. Remus was the first adult in his life that he'd ever looked up to and that he'd ever been even remotely close to. Remus had been there for him at a time when he'd desperately needed that guidance, someone to teach him how to save himself when no one else would. Surely if anyone could pull him out of the current funk he was in, it was Remus. But if even Remus was willing to let Harry continue on in this semi existence, what hope was there for Harry to save himself?
Then again, Remus was…either a ghost or something close to it. What could Remus do really other than tell Harry how he felt? He supposed Remus didn't have very many options in his current state.
And then for the first time, it occurred to Harry that Remus had touched him just a moment ago by laying a hand on his shoulder. Ghosts certainly couldn't do that. That coupled with the fact that Harry was standing in the kitchen having a conversation with a dead man that no one else could hear made him almost certain that he was dreaming. He had to be. There was no other explanation. Never mind that none of his other recent dreams had been like this. There was a first time for everything, wasn't there?
Harry knew he was probably holding onto that fact - that none of his other dreams had been this - because he wasn't prepared for the fact that this was all in mind. Harry wanted to believe more than anything that Remus could come back, could help to guide him again, that he'd never really left him. It comforted Harry to think that Remus had been watching over them all this time, keeping an eye out for them. Of course, it embarrassed Harry in some ways too, to think that Remus was well aware of all the mistakes he'd made as of late. But it comforted Harry in other ways; it made him feel safe and protected.
Harry turned back to Remus, giving him a searching look. They stood like that for a long time, like two lone pillars remaining standing in the ruins that had become Harry's life.
"Is this real?" Harry asked at last. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to that, but at the same time, he couldn't not know. He suspected it would drive him crazy if he didn't ask.
"Why wouldn't this be real?" Remus countered without missing a beat. It seemed like he'd been prepared for that very question, had had his response ready since this encounter had begun.
"Because!" Harry cried, waving his arms around in the air. "I'm standing here talking to someone who's been dead for months and…" He stopped, glancing back over his shoulder at the others still seated at the table. "No one else knows we're here."
"So just because of those things it means it can't be real?" Remus asked, a tiny note of mischief to his voice. For the first time in his life, Harry could fully see Remus being a Marauder. Remus was always so prim and proper, so in line with the rules; up until that point, Harry had a hard time imagining him keeping in league with James and Sirius when they were younger. Now, not so much.
"You're a wizard, Harry," Remus added, pulling Harry out of his thoughts. "Things like this aren't entirely impossible, are they?"
Harry faced Remus fully again, and then he hung his head, as if he was looking for answers in the floor of all places. He frowned deeply, coming to terms with the fact that no matter how many times he asked, no matter how much he pushed Remus, Harry wasn't going to get a straight answer. Perhaps there wasn't one.
"I guess not," Harry sighed. He bit at his lower lip, wondering where this was going, where this would lead his already ridiculous life. "What does this mean for me?"
"Whatever you want it to mean."
For a very brief moment, Harry got the feeling that he was talking to Dumbledore of all people. Dumbledore always danced around the topic, not giving completely straight answers unless he wanted to. Harry had to look up to reassure himself that it was in fact Remus who was standing in front of him. That same twinkle that was always present in Dumbledore's eyes was suddenly there, lighting up Remus's own blue eyes in a way that Harry had never noticed before. "Doesn't really help, hm?" Remus asked, slightly amused.
"No."
It was Remus's turn to sigh. "I can't tell you what to do, Harry. I can't," he said more firmly this time in response to Harry's slightly annoyed glance. "That's not what this is about. And even if I did tell you what to do, what difference would it make?"
"'What difference'?!" Harry exclaimed. He was about ready to launch into a rant about it making a huge difference! This was Remus, his former teacher and one of the men he considered a mentor. It made quite a difference what Remus thought. Before Harry had a chance to voice this, however, Remus continued to speak in his usual calm tone. Harry had to subdue himself in the interest of hearing Remus's next words.
"That choice has to come from you. No one else. I suspect you know that."
Harry diverted his gaze, staring at a random spot on the far wall. Even though he'd known it wouldn't be that easy, for once in his life, he just wished someone would tell him what to do, would make the decision for him. Then again, even if Remus did tell him what to do, it didn't mean Harry would do it. That was the entire point, wasn't it?
"Yeah," Harry admitted. "I suppose I do."
"But Harry?" Remus took a few steps closer to him, attempting to get into his field of vision again. When Harry looked up at him, Remus continued, "You have to know what I would want you to do. It's what anyone concerned with your wellbeing would want you to do. That includes Ginny."
"I know." Unable to take holding Remus's gaze any longer, Harry turned towards the table once more. It felt like Remus was scrutinizing him, judging him for the mistakes he'd made. Even though Harry rationally knew Remus wouldn't do something like that - he'd said as much himself, and Harry believed him - that didn't stop Harry's mind from thinking those things.
"I just…" Harry began, but then trailed off. He hung his head, fiddling with his hands. His eyes were burning with unshed tears again, and before he was able to stop it, a large tear leaked out and landed on the lens of his glasses. He did nothing to wipe it away. "It's so hard."
"I didn't say it wasn't." Remus closed the distance between them, coming up right behind Harry until Harry almost thought he could feel Remus's body heat. "I know it's hard. Believe me, I do. Perhaps more than anyone." He paused, like he was mulling his words over carefully before he spoke them. "I lost my best friend…twice. First to the assumption that he had killed your parents, and then…to death itself. There were times after both those instances when I wanted nothing more than to drink so much I didn't know which was up."
"What stopped you?"
"I didn't say I didn't."
That got Harry's attention. He whirled around so quickly he thought he might have toppled over if he'd had just a little bit more alcohol in his system. "You?" Harry said incredulously. "But you're…" Harry didn't know what exactly he'd wanted to say that Remus was. 'My role model', 'my mentor', and 'not what I imagined an alcohol-dependant person to be' were just a few of the possibilities that ran through his mind. In the end, he decided not to use any of them at all. He thought his initial reaction and expression were enough. Besides, just as Remus had done for him, Harry didn't want Remus to think that Harry was disappointed in him. He could never be disappointed in Remus. Even when he'd said he had been in the past.
Remus didn't reply, just held Harry's gaze steadily.
"But I…" Harry began again, still struggling for the right words. "I never noticed. I never even suspected that you might be…inebriated. Or drinking at all."
"Oh, not after I met you, no," Remus said. "Not even after Sirius's death. I'd learned my lesson the first time."
"The first time?"
It was Remus's turn to look away from Harry. Remus started pacing up and down the room, keeping his eyes pinned on the floor, lost in the memory this conversation had brought up. "After your parents died, I didn't know what else to do. I'd lost the only friends I'd ever had in my life to - what I thought was - the hands of the man I considered my best friend.
"We were in a war. It was no secret that some people used booze as a way to help them cope. Before that, I'd never had a drop in my life. My parents didn't drink, and I really never had any desire to even try it. I looked up to them so much, and I guess I wanted to do pretty much everything the way they did it, but…I don't know. I was looking for something, anything to dull my pain, so I figured, 'Why the hell not?' That was really the only thing that mattered to me at the moment - finding a way to make myself feel better, if only for a little while. When you're so deep in grief, very little matters to you anymore except for that - finding a way to make it stop. So I decided to try it and see what all the fuss was about. If it didn't help, then I wouldn't try it again, but if it did…" Remus shrugged in embarrassment.
"You sought it out of desperation," Harry said in understanding.
"Mm," Remus hummed grimly in response. "So I did. I went out and bought a bottle of Firewhiskey with money I really couldn't afford to waste. Perhaps that was why I…wanted it to work so badly then. I didn't want that money I'd scrounged up for it to be for naught. I went home and…drank myself into oblivion." A wry expression passed over Remus's face. "You should have seen me. I was hardly the prim and proper professor you would come to know.
"It went on that way for quite some time. I'm-" Remus squinted deeply in thought, "-not even really sure how long it was. It could have been a few months, but it was most probably a year or more. Everything from that time is mixed up and muddled. Consumed by the black hole that had seemed to swallow up my life. I spent every single last Knut I had on making my pain - my life - disappear. When I could barely afford to feed myself to begin with…it obviously became a bigger problem than I knew how to handle."
"Didn't…" Harry interrupted gently, not sure how to phrase his question. He knew this was a sore spot for Remus even at the best of times. "My dad left you some money, didn't he?"
"Indeed," Remus said simply, clearly not keen on the idea of even admitting it. "Most of which I still had up until my death, which I then left to Teddy. I didn't use it then for the same reason I didn't use it up until last year." Remus let out a soft breath and stared down at the floor, a small blush of embarrassment creeping into his cheeks. He shoved his hands into his pockets. "I hate admitting that I need help. I hate feeling like I'm being coddled, like I need to be taken care of, like I'm taking handouts. I like to take care of myself on what I earn myself."
"If you can't," Harry said, "that's hardly your fault. It's the fault of the prejudiced world we live in."
"Yes," Remus agreed, "but it's the principle of the thing. Even more so then. If I squandered away part of your father's inheritance - the part that he had the graciousness to leave to me in the first place when I really didn't deserve it-"
Harry began to protest this. Remus most certainly did deserve the right to live like a normal human being and the money to enable him to do so, but then Remus's words made Harry's blood run cold. It made him feel even worse than he already had. It made him shut his mouth so hard and tight that a wave of pain went through his teeth.
"-on booze of all things…" Remus shook his head and stopped, letting his words speak for themselves for a moment. When he spoke again, Harry noticed that Remus's voice was the only other sound in the room. Gone were Teddy's giggles, Andromeda and Ginny's conversation, the tinkle of silverware on china, and even the crackling and roaring of the fireplace. They were still there - one glance out of the corner of Harry's eye was enough to tell him that the dinner party was still very much going on - but it was like someone had performed a Quietus spell on them. All that Harry could hear - all that even mattered to him at the moment - was Remus.
"I knew I'd feel even worse than I already did," Remus added, seeming to take the words right out of Harry's mouth. "If using his money for necessities like food made me feel guilty, imagine how spending it on something as frivolous as alcohol would make me feel. No. Whatever I spent on that was my own money. What little I had of it."
It was Harry's turn for his own face to grow warm. He hadn't thought of it in that way. He still had more than enough of his parents' money left to sustain his current lifestyle for quite a while, but one of Remus's words in particular had almost seemed to make his heart hurt. Squandered. Was that really what he was doing? Harry supposed it was - he was doing nothing but throwing away his parents' fortune, wasting it so he could go on living in a world of nothingness. Not that the money itself mattered. Of course it didn't; it was only money. But how would Harry feel if he woke up one day to discover that everything his parents had left him (other than the protection of their love) was gone? Used up? Wasted? Squandered away like it had meant nothing?
When Harry had been at school, he'd practiced great self-control with his money, often passing up purchases that he could well afford because he really didn't need them. He could distinctly remember not buying the brand new Firebolt even when he'd desperately wanted it, because he already had a perfectly good broom in his possession. Such a purchase would have been a waste anyway, because as luck would have it, it would have been completely torn to shreds by the Whomping Willow. Harry knew he would have felt particularly awful then. And then his godfather had seen fit to gift him with the very thing he'd wanted more than anything in the world at that moment (except perhaps, to be able to kill that godfather, but that was another story altogether).
Harry still had his beloved Firebolt. He hadn't ridden it since…he couldn't even remember when. Well before the final battle at any rate. He sighed heavily, remembering the much easier days of times gone by when a quick ride on his Firebolt would have chased away even the worst of moods. Now, things were a little bit more serious than that, much more complicated, but that didn't mean he loved or appreciated his godfather's generous gift to him any less. It still sat in his bedroom, hovering just above the floor in the corner nearest his bed, where he could be sure to see it whenever he awoke.
The funny thing was, Harry wasn't sure when the last time was that he's really looked at it. Oh, he'd noticed it out of the corner of his eye in passing, but he didn't know that he'd truly seen it since setting there when he first moved in. Funny, the way things changed - how something that once brought him so much joy could sit nearly forgotten in the corner of his room.
Harry shook his head trying to pull himself from his own consuming thoughts. That was a dangerous thing, he was coming to find - allowing himself to be pulled into his own vicious thought processes. In an effort to try and distract himself from that, he asked the very next question that came into his mind.
"What made you…you said you learned your lesson?"
Remus frowned deeply, but nodded. He closed his eyes before revealing, "I had to dip into your father's savings. Not for alcohol-" he added quickly, as if defending himself "-but because I had no food left and not enough money to buy any. So I guess technically your father's money did go to the alcohol. It wasn't a lot, but…it was enough."
Remus sounded mortally ashamed of this, like he had just committed the most atrocious sin imaginable against one of his best friends. Harry wanted to tell him that he had nothing to be ashamed of, because what Harry was doing now was worse. Far worse. Remus had been left alone to fend for himself in the world. Harry still had more than enough people to lean on, and he was throwing them away too. He was purposely hurting them just to drive them away.
Harry, however, was unable to speak, unable to find his voice. And in some ways, he didn't want to. He wanted to let Remus speak, to allow him to be heard. Perhaps Remus needed that after all these years, because Harry didn't imagine his former professor had shared this much-too-private information with anyone else.
"I couldn't do it anymore after that," Remus went on. "I remember waking up one morning after having used some of your father's money. It was one of my first sober moments in quite a while. I was hung over as all hell, but still very much lucid and coherent, because I'd slept for such a long time. Normally, I woke up numerous times in the night to get myself a drink, because I couldn't stand the feeling of waking up even the least bit sober. I felt an enormous sense of guilt, because I knew James wouldn't have wanted me to use his money like that."
It was the first time his father's name had been mentioned in this conversation, and the instance of it almost felt like a punch in Harry's stomach. Or perhaps it was the alcohol talking. He wasn't sure. He rarely drank so much that he got sick (his tolerance was much too high by that point), so he figured that either way, this a sign that he'd had enough.
"He left it to me, because he wanted me to use it as I saw fit, yes," Remus said, "but using it on something as wasteful as alcohol seemed like a dishonor to his memory. To your mum's memory too."
And that was exactly how Harry felt, down to the last little detail. Like his family - his mother and father - would be disappointed in him if they knew. Again, Harry knew they wouldn't care about the money itself, but rather about him. What caring and loving parents would want to see their only child reduced to nothing more than a blabbering pile of drunkenness with a few barely-sober hours in between? They'd want him to go on to do great things. They'd want him to make them proud, or at least do something that made Harry happy. Not squander away their sacrifice on such a meaningless existence.
And Harry wasn't happy. He could fool himself all he liked into believing that he needed booze right now, but the truth of the matter was that even that didn't make him happy. Little did anymore. So perhaps it was time to find something that did, and…all it took was one look around the room to find just a few examples of that happiness. The woman he loved and his growing godson. All he had to do was accept it.
But still, Harry wondered about something. "And…you just stopped? Just like that?"
"Not quite."
Harry grimaced, even though he had known fully well it wouldn't be that easy.
"I'll tell you what finally made me want to quit," Remus said, giving Harry a knowing look. "It was those first few moments of true sobriety after the realization that I was dishonoring your parents. I knew at least a few months had passed, but if I'm honest with myself, I knew it was probably closer to a year. I hate that thought - that an entire year of my life could have just…disappeared like that. Could have been swallowed up by alcohol. And when I was finally able to think clearly again, I realized nothing was better. I was still hurting over the death of your parents and Peter, and Sirius's betrayal like it had just happened the day before."
"There's nothing wrong with that," Harry protested.
"No," Remus agreed, "and I didn't mean to imply that there was. It can take a long time before we heal from losses like that, and however long it takes each of us…there's nothing wrong with that. At all. But I'd dealt with death before, Harry. I lost both my parents before the age of eighteen. Perhaps the biggest losses I'd ever felt in my life. I'm not sure. What I was sure of was that while I was still hurting a year on from both of their deaths, it was a lot better than it was just after it happened. That pain wasn't quite so raw anymore. But there I was, a year after losing your parents and Sirius and…my pain still felt like this giant gaping wound that had just happened. I didn't feel the least bit better. Not even a little bit. It was still so…fresh."
Remus paused, both in his words and in his pacing. He faced Harry fully again before continuing. "That was when I realized that I wasn't doing anything to heal from what had happened, Harry. I was hiding from my pain. I was burying it under mounds and mounds of alcohol. While that made things easier in the short term, I didn't want to wake up one day years, maybe even decades later, and still have this intense aching pain that I had never dealt with. That I still had to rely on alcohol to get rid of. That wasn't what my parents would have wanted for me, and I knew that wasn't what your parents would have wanted for me either."
Ginny's words from earlier that day suddenly came back to Harry - that he wasn't dealing with his grief, only numbing it for a while. He had meant what he had said - that he just wasn't ready to deal with it yet - but would he ever feel truly ready? He doubted very much that he would. He would continue to hide from his pain until he probably killed himself in an effort to make it stop.
Harry's lower lip began to tremble. He clenched his hands into fists at his sides and squeezed his eyes shut. Hanging his head, the tears that had welled up in his eyes immediately snuck between his eyelids and down his cheeks.
He didn't want to be that person. He didn't want to be a bitter, drunk old man that didn't have anyone left, because he had pushed them all away. For the first time, Harry could see that happening - everyone abandoning him in an effort to get away from his problem, from his descent into destruction. As it was, yes, Harry knew he had been pushing people away, because it would be easier to continue on with his current path that way. But when he thought about being utterly and totally alone, that thought scared him more than it ever had. Remus had been left alone in a world against his will, and Harry was doing everything in his power to make that very thing happen to him. There was something very wrong with that. And ungrateful.
If Harry was alive today, it was only because of everything his friends and family had done for him. It was because of their love that he was still there, still breathing, and still able to return that love to them. Only he hadn't been that a whole hell of a lot lately. They'd risked their lives, and some of them had indeed given up their lives for his, and this was how he repaid them. Not that sacrifices made out of love asked for anything in return. Love never expected repayment for such acts. But this was not what they would have wanted for Harry, what they would have wanted his life to become. He could see that clearly now more than ever. They hadn't given up their lives so he could destroy his own.
Harry stood there for such a long time, sobs beginning to bubble up and spill out of him. What in Merlin's name had he done to his life? What a disaster he'd made out of things when he could technically have and do anything he put his mind to. He just wasn't doing a lot of that lately. He hadn't been much of anything. Just drinking and…that was all. Drinking. That was all his life had become. It was quickly becoming devoid of any form of love - the very thing he felt so damn lucky to have once upon a time - and he was letting it.
"It's not too late, Harry," came Remus's voice.
The sound startled Harry. So much time had passed, he was even beginning to wonder if Remus was still there at all. If he had perhaps gone back to where he had come from, or if Harry's dream was changing and transforming around him into something else. Or maybe his delusional mind had decided to stop playing tricks on him.
Harry opened his eyes and looked up at Remus, his shoulders shaking from the sobs that were now growing to consume him. "But I…" Harry began, but he didn't what he'd intended to say. He just didn't think he was ready for that - to stop drinking, to go back to a time when that pain was so very real and intense. He was trying desperately to come up with an excuse, and there weren't any. He knew that.
"You can do it, Harry," Remus said firmly, nodding confidently. "I know you can." He smiled wryly. "After everything you've been through…you can do anything."
"I just…" Harry turned and glanced across the room at the cabinet that held his Firewhiskey. "I don't know how," were the words that he finally settled on to express what he was feeling. That was a good way to put it, he decided - he just didn't know. He didn't know a lot of things.
Harry heard Remus's footsteps behind him. A moment later, Remus's very firm and real hand was resting on Harry's shoulder again. "One day at a time," Remus whispered. "And if even that feels like too much, then take it one minute at a time, or even one second at a time if you have to. And every one of those seconds is a success, Harry, a triumph. Every single one, so celebrate them."
Harry turned his head, again watching the dinner party continuing on like everything was normal. Only they seemed far away and smaller somehow. Andromeda, Ginny, and Teddy suddenly felt like they were a mile away instead of in the same room. If Harry didn't know any better, he'd thought that an Expanding Charm had just been done on the room, making it much larger than it had been before. Perhaps that was now why their noises and conversations were lost, muted by the distance.
"If you need help, Harry," Remus said, gesturing towards the three others in the room, "lean on them. They love you and they want to help you. You know they do."
Harry nodded and whimpered, "I don't want to lose them." He felt so stupid, so pathetic. He was a grown man, and he was standing in the middle of his kitchen crying.
"You don't have to," Remus reassured. Then, as if he was reading Harry's mind yet again, he added, "Nor do you have to stop crying. Go ahead and let it out if you need to. I cried about a million tears over your parents and Sirius. There's nothing wrong with that, and it can be quite cathartic."
Harry knew that Remus only spoke the truth, and he believed him, but he choked back the sobs that still lingered in the back of his throat. There were things he wanted to say to Remus, things he needed him to know, and Harry felt like their time together was running precariously short.
Harry turned around fully, facing Remus. "I don't want to lose you either," Harry said. He meant a lot of things by that statement, but Remus seemed to understand them all and more.
Remus opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. He closed it again, taking a moment to think about his response. His eyes momentarily went to Teddy before he looked back at Harry. "Harry…" he said a bit breathlessly. He sighed and said, "I can't stay. I think you know that. But it doesn't mean you'll ever lose me."
Against Harry's will, he sobbed again. Just once, a sound that punctuated the otherwise silent room.
"You won't," Remus reiterated. "Ever." Remus rested his right hand on Harry's shoulder again, and then raised his left one to Harry's chest. Laying his palm over Harry's heart, Remus said, "I'm always in here. Always."
"What if that isn't enough?" Harry knew it would never be enough; nothing ever would, not as long as Remus was dead.
"You can talk to me any time you want," Remus tried. "I'm always listening. I may not answer, but I'll hear you."
Harry sucked in a shaky breath, yet another cry escaping from him. "I love you, Remus." Harry felt unable to stand on his own two feet any longer. He thrust himself forward, pressing himself against Remus's chest. Harry wrapped his arms tightly around Remus's waist and rested his head on Remus's shoulder. God, even in this dream world, or delusional world, or whatever the hell it was, Remus's robes were still soft, worn, and comforting like they always were.
Remus didn't reply, and he seemed frozen to his spot for just a moment. After all, he and Harry had only hugged once before, but that had been under completely different circumstances. Remus probably felt a bit caught off guard and unprepared for this sudden display of affection from Harry.
That, however, didn't seem to last. Before long, Remus had wrapped his own arms around Harry, hugging him tightly.
"I love you too, Harry," Remus said quietly. He stated rocking Harry back and forth gently, trying to sooth the younger man's sobs. "Before I had Teddy, you were always like the son I never had, you know. All the more reason you should be his godfather. In a way, you were already like his big brother."
Harry's throat was too tight to speak, his sobs quickly growing to overwhelm him, so he simply hugged Remus even more tightly in response.
"Watch over him, okay?" Remus requested.
Harry nodded, squeezing his eyes shut impossibly tighter. He knew this moment was fleeting, his time in Remus's arms was ending, and he wanted to hold on to it for as long as possible.
Finally, with every last ounce of strength Harry thought he had, he promised, "I will. I will."
To be concluded…