Empty Chairs At Empty Tables
He was older than he truly was. He'd lived through more than any man should have, and his body proved it. He was only a middle-aged man, who looked at me with calm.
"It's over," he said. It was a fact, not a question. I nodded anyway.
"Let us see what your life has led to, Remus."
There's a grief that can't be spoken.
There's a pain goes on and on.
"The majority of my life, I believed that my best friends were all dead . . . and that one was a traitor. I was proved wrong-but only about who was the traitor and that one would only die later. It never left me, that grief."
Empty chairs at empty tables
Now my friends are dead and gone.
"It was a void I couldn't replace. They were the first ones to accept me despite my condition . . . they went so far as to help me with it. That ran deep with me."
Here they talked of revolution.
Here it was they lit the flame.
"They wanted to turn Hogwarts upside down first, and then the world would follow," he smiled, "I admit that I was a part of many of their plans. I don't regret helping them when it wasn't hurtful. We were the unstoppable Marauders-no one could touch us."
Here they sang about tomorrow
And tomorrow never came.
"All of them had bright futures. They were fighters, they were brilliant, they had a chance to make something of themselves. I was lucky to have them around . . . and yet I was the one who lived on, and they lost their chance," he sighed.
From the table in the corner
They could see a world reborn
And they rose with voices ringing
And I can hear them now!
"Even the people who survived . . . we all drifted away from one another . . . everything we had at school was only an echo. We were told that the world would be in our hands, that we would make all these changes in the world. We believed it all. And now nothing's changed . . . hopefully the next generation will."
The very words that they had sung
Became their last communion
"The last time we were together . . . I kept that memory with me. It was Harry's first birthday. We had turned it into a sort of reunion for ourselves-sure, we were together a lot, but we hardly got to speak to one another anymore. Then, a few months later, James and Lily were killed."
On this lonely barricade at dawn.
Oh my friends, my friends forgive me
That I live and you are gone.
"They had so much more hope than I did . . ."
There's a grief that can't be spoken.
There's a pain goes on and on.
Phantom faces at the windows.
Phantom shadows on the floor.
"I would see them day to day, in a crowd, in a window. After Sirius died I always saw him laughing with James again. I'd even imagine I saw their shadows-as if those had been so burned into my memory. Maybe they had."
Empty chairs at empty tables
Where my friends will meet no more.
By now his eyes were reddened.
"And that was the worst part. I never would get to hear them laugh or speak with them or anything ever. Just like I'll never get to see their kids . . . my son . . . grow up and take their own place in those chairs and tables. That's the only thing that I regret."
Oh my friends, my friends, don't ask me
What your sacrifice was for
"And in the end, we didn't kill him. I can only hope Harry does it. What's all the death for, anyway?" He sighed. A shabby door opened-to reveal Sirius and James, grinning young men waving at Remus.
"Moony!" They called. Remus smiled softly. They wouldn't be at the tables of the Leaky Cauldron anymore, but they were together again.
Empty chairs at empty tables
Where my friends will sing no more
