Chapter Nine: A Great Strength

April, 1981…Five days after Ermengarde's death…

Remus did not get out of bed for the next four days. James had left the house the day after Ermengarde died to do some work for the Order and did not return. For the most part, Lily had left Remus alone, only entering the guest bedroom to occasionally bring tea and leave it on his bedside table. Remus took a few sips, but never tasted it. He felt as though his insides had frozen. He slept through the nights and most of the days, alternating between silent, dreamless sleep and terrible nightmares.

On the fifth day of avoiding human contact, Remus had the covers pulled over his head and was lying there with his eyes shut, awake. He heard Lily come in, but instead of the familiar clink of a mug on the bedside table, he felt the bed sink as she sat near his feet on it. He shifted the blanket to look at her.

"I've made shepherd's pie," she said simply. She was not smiling, and Remus was glad for it. "And there's a strawberry cobbler for pudding. And I found a bottle of some really wonderful wine that I'd forgotten James had bought."

"I'm not hungry," said Remus, moving his legs so she had more room to sit.

"I know," said Lily. "I'm just telling you what I did today."

Lily took advantage of the extra sitting space and swung her feet onto the bed to sit cross-legged. She was quiet for a moment, then she spoke again, very gently.

"You've got to get out of bed," she said. "You can't keep doing this. It's been five days…you'll make yourself ill like this."

"I don't care," said Remus truthfully, and he hitched the sheets up a bit closer to his chin.

"I know you don't, but Ermengarde would."

The fact that Lily had mentioned Ermengarde out loud did not surprise Remus, but it did fill him with an overwhelming desire to strike her for doing so.

"Please don't give me that look, Remus, someone had to say it," said Lily, looking at him firmly. "Seriously, do you think she'd want to see you doing this to yourself?"

"She'd understand," said Remus, somewhat nastily.

Lily didn't seem to notice. Instead, she smoothed a wrinkle on the sheets near her feet and took a deep breath.

"She'd understand, I'm sure, but she wouldn't like it," she said. "You know full well she'd be the first to try and drag you out of bed if it had been anyone else who had…well. You know what I'm trying to say."

"No, I don't."

Remus knew he was being horribly rude, that he was acting like the worst possible version of himself and hated himself for it, but at that moment, he could not have cared less.

"I can't imagine what you're going though," said Lily. "I can't imagine how I'd feel if it were James who…or Harry…and I wish there was some way I could help you, really help you. But I know you're going to have to figure it out on your own, if I know you at all."

"Look, I just don't want to think about it right now," said Remus, adjusting his pillow and rolling onto his side.

Rather than being put off by this, Lily crawled over to the other side of the bed and sat, still cross-legged, leaning against the pillows unused by Remus.

"Have you thought about anything else?" she asked.

"No," Remus admitted, and he shifted so he could see her more clearly.

"Anything at all you want to talk about?"

"I think if I do, I'll cry."

"Nothing wrong with that," said Lily softly.

"It's strange, though, because part of me is screaming and begging to cry, to let it all out, and the other part insists that there's no reason to, because no one's dead and nothing bad happened at all," said Remus all in one breath, which was difficult because his breathing was becoming slightly restricted.

"That makes sense. Seriously. I felt the same way when my grandfather died. I was fourteen and it was really sudden, and I didn't really start accepting it until almost a year later," said Lily. "And it was the same with my mum and dad. It's just a matter of letting yourself feel what you're feeling and not suppressing it, because that's the most damaging thing you could possibly do."

Remus's airway felt even more constrained, but felt determined to stay in control. Lily was regarding him with a mixture of compassion and sadness – and then, for the first time, it occurred to him that he was not the only one mourning Ermengarde's death. She and Lily had been close friends as well. Remus sat up and let the covers fall to his lap.

"It's not weakness, you know," Lily continued. "In fact, I think it's a strength, to be able to mourn and feel sadness. Otherwise, what's the point of the rest of life? How would you ever know you were happy if you'd never felt pain?"

"But I don't want to feel this way," said Remus in a strained voice.

"Neither do I," said Lily. "And I hate seeing you going through this, I honestly do, but if you don't come to terms with it soon, it's going to really damage you."

Remus didn't answer. He was too busy fighting against the burning feeling in his lungs and throat.

"Just let it out," Lily whispered. "And no one else will ever have to know about it. You can't stay in control all the time, Remus. You have to allow yourself moments to feel, really feel. I'm here if you need me."

It was too much. Remus hung his head and felt his chest begin to heave and convulse with underdeveloped sobs that gradually grew larger, mounting until he was wailing with desolation, too weakened by grief to fight the hold Lily now had him in. She held him close, protectively, rubbing his back and humming a soft tune, like a lullaby. How long they stayed that way, Remus did not know nor care. All he knew was that he wanted to suddenly wake up and find that it was all a terrible dream, or that Lily's song would somehow bring Ermengarde back to life, or that he could find whoever took her away from him and bring them to justice…

After a very long time, Remus's tears subsided and left him, and when Lily released him, it was obvious she had cried as well. He wished he could think of something comforting to say, but nothing came to mind. He wished he could thank her for being so caring, but his voice seemed to have dissolved in his throat. All he knew was that Lily Potter was the only person he would ever allow to see him in such a state, and he climbed out of bed to join her for some dinner.