Disclaimer: No, I'm still not J.K Rowling, big surprise there!
Author's note: So I am officially in this state of limbo where I am finished University and still haven't gotten a job over the summer, all of my friends are moving onto that next stage, we are all changing. This story is also changing; nothing ever stays the same, does it? Welcome Remus and Peter, who I hadn't forgotten about, I just didn't know when to slot them in (I have also never written Peter on his own before), enjoy and please review I always love to hear from you.
This chapter is dedicated to Regulus Black because he is the sex (and is considerably absent from this chapter, woe).
Chapter 8: Falling into a bottomless abyss.
i.
Scars contain memories, are reminders of pain.
Remus traces a withered finger over the contour lines of his body, each touch evoking a hidden past.
The long, deep scar on his left thigh had begun to fade, reminiscent of a time in the Shrieking Shack, when Padfoot's teeth clenched around the bone, pulling him away from Severus Snape.
Remus had never really forgiven Sirius for the murder he had almost committed, under the influence of the full moon. Its yellowish glow haunted him in the midnight hours, after he turned the lamp off, his eyes half closed on the lumpy pillow.
September was divided; twenty-nine days of sanity, one day of insanity.
A mind ripped from its comfortable hollow in the confines of the skull, possessed and wild it ravaged for blood.
Remus lets his hand fall in the mellow water of the bath, viewing his broken body through the hazy layer of soap that has formed on top.
The night outside the bathroom window falls too quickly, the last rays of the sun draining all the hope from the world like a child sucking on an orange, the bitter skin is all that is left of this day, countless amongst the other days that rise and fade.
This is life in stasis.
Empty cigarette packets and unread newspapers, falling stars and broken china.
ii.
Peter pulls the dark rim of his hood further over his forehead, his small watery eyes barely visible under the line of cloth that hangs over them.
He does not know why he walks down dark corridors, the soles of his feet making no sound, the wand in his hand vibrating with fear.
It is as if the air around him is aware of his secrets, pushing in on him from all sides, slowly replacing the oxygen with the taste of resentment, the acidic taste of lies.
He slips into Mulciber's hallway, letting the door close softly behind him, slipping the dark hood away from his features.
His face is round and boyish, a laugh is captured there somewhere in the depth of his eyes but it no longer surfaces, repressed by this double life, by this absence of love.
He was free once, now he is a slave.
He joins his companions in the living room, their shapes relaxed against sofas, hands clutching bottles of butterbeer, mouths moving in speech.
"Petey!" Theodore Nott welcomes him, giving him an affectionate slap on the back; it reverberates into his ribcage, fluttering the tiny heart that resides there.
"Theo." He nods in recognition, taking a bottle of butterbeer for his own, leaning against a broken bookshelf.
The dark haired man leans in, his unshaven cheek scratching Peter's shaven one, his words stick to Peter's chin like sugar on the end of a spoon.
"Insiders say that the Dark Lord is considering you amongst his highest, his most revered," another back slap is awarded, "that potion you fed to the little redhead mudblood worked a treat, her brat of a child was dead before he slipped out of her."
Peter takes a long sip of the warming liquid, it does nothing to take away the taste of vomit on his tongue.
"It was my pleasure," he offered, forcing a malicious grin to skim his lips, "mudbloods and blood traitors deserve to die."
iii.
Severus places vials of potions in meticulous lines on the wooden shelf in his new office.
He orders them in terms of colour, placing the red next to the pink, the blue next to the green.
Lily watches him from her place on a wooden chair, her legs drawn up to her chest, her face relaxed as her eyes follow his movements.
"So why did you decide to teach? I still can't really imagine you explaining something to an eleven year old!" She lets slip a little laugh, it tinkers around the stony walls like music.
He turns to face her, a corked potion in his hand.
"I need something to occupy myself."
His words are simple and they shock Lily. Severus has always shocked Lily, in the little things he does, like not raising to the joke she threw at him, like his simple words, like his ability to keep his voice steady.
"So do I." She speaks carefully, not sure of how much to tell him, not wanting to rush her emotions on to him.
He places the potion onto the shelf, his rhythmic movements sooth Lily into speech.
"After Harry died I didn't know what to do, everything was so empty, so dark. If you could have just seen our .. my, house. The baby's things were everywhere, these constant reminders, and sometimes I could still feel him, you know, in my belly."
He stops his shelving of the potions, letting his hand fall to her hair, his fingers reaching for the back of her neck, urging her to go on.
"And I forgot about life because all I could smell was death, this horrible stench of bleach and starch, smells I picked up in the hospital I suppose. I was so afraid that I was going crazy, by myself in that house choked of memories, and I couldn't reach out to anyone, not even Remus, because I realised that they were all his friends. And I realised that you were the only person that knew me, and I thought that you wanted me dead, that maybe you had done this."
She pauses through her words, unable to turn her eyes towards his, although his presence is not accusatory, she can feel his emotions through his fingers on her neck, as if they were an electrical conduit.
"I know it was wrong for me to blame you, I just couldn't understand where it all went wrong. In one day everything was taken from me, and everything that I had already lost seemed so far away."
"When Regulus came, he gave me hope. And he doesn't even know that."
She allows a little smile to halt her words, she can feel Severus' arms now around her shoulder.
He kneels down to her, taking her chin in his white hands, their noses almost touching.
"You have never lost me Lily, I have always been here. Together we can fight all of this, this pain and suffering. We have all lost something, we are united through our pain, Regulus, you and I."
Lily nods, understanding now.
It is only through pain that we grow.
iv.
"The mark of your ignorance is the depth of your belief in injustice and tragedy. What a caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly" – Richard Bach.
