Wow, this is my first fic in quite a while. I'm still working on a sequel to The Loving are the Daring, and on a Hermione fic, but they're aren't going well, so don't expect them any time in the near future, that is if I ever finish them.

This is kind of odd, and it's a different style from what I usually write, but I kind of like it. I don't own anyone except the narrator. Everyone else mentioned belongs to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury and Scholastic.

While She Cries

She's crying again. She's got her door shut, and her head is buried in her pillow, because she doesn't want me to hear, but I can. And I just sit here, doing nothing. I should do something. Comfort her, anything. I could owl Remus, but I don't think she would want that. So I lean up against the cool oak door, and listen to her cry.

It used to be when she did this, I would go into my own room, and I would bury my head in pillow, and try to think about quidditch instead of her crying. That was when I was smaller. Now I'm a man and I can't go and hide, much as I want to. So I sit.

She doesn't do this often. Usually she's just like anyone else's mother. Telling me to clean my room, and pick up my shoes, and don't leave dirty dishes in the family room. But on birthdays, and on The Day, and on September first, then she goes into her room and cries.

Sometimes Remus is here then, and I know they've decided on it before. He comes in the morning, and if she's already in her room then I open the door, and he goes up, and he says Alohomora, and the door opens. I just stand there in the hallway, and watch, and she pushes herself up from her pillow, like her head is filled with iron. But after she stands up she's okay, and she walks over to the doorway, and her eyes are puffy and he just looks at her for a bit. Then he opens his arms, and pulls her in, and she puts her head onto his chest and he bends his neck so his face is in her hair, and he puts his arms around her and her face seems to bury so far into his robes that I can't see her anymore, and he's just standing there with his arms around her long white nightdress.

That's the way it used to be anyway, when I watched because I was young and didn't know any better, and they didn't see me. And then he would pick her up and carry her to her bed, and I would go downstairs and get his cloak and wrap myself up in it, because it smelled strong like him, and there were chocolate bars in the pockets. I would always eat just one, and leave the others. I used to think that I had to leave some, because Remus had to go help other little boys mum's when they cried.

Now I'm older and I know better. If she's in her room and Remus comes then I say hello, and I shake his hand, and I point him up to her room. I take his cloak from him and hang it up, but first I take a bar of chocolate from the pocket. I don't follow him up, even stealthily like I used to. I stay downstairs, and I read some of the numerous books mum has and I try not to hear her cry.

Of course it's not only when she cries that Remus comes. He's here a lot, or at least he was before I went to Hogwarts, and he is when I'm home during the summer. He comes for dinner sometimes. And sometimes when mum needs the roof fixed or a bogart gets into the upstairs linen closet. He was here when she got me my first broom when I was ten and she couldn't stand to watch me ride it, and the day I left for Hogwarts. I wonder if she cried that day.

But even if nothing special is happening he comes once or twice a week for dinner. He stays afterwards and we talk or play a board game, or watch TV, or just sit. He was always still there when it was my bedtime, and they would take me upstairs together, and tuck me in. Sometimes Remus read me a story. I always liked those nights because I fell asleep and felt safe, because I always felt safe around Remus, and I knew he was just downstairs. When I got a little older and I couldn't be sent to bed they would stay up long enough to outlast me, or they would make a big show of saying goodbye, and he would leave, and then mum would say she was tired and go to bed. Of course I knew he always apparated from our front porch to her room, but I didn't say anything.

I sometimes wonder if they've ever considered that I know. I'm not sure why they've always been so secretive, because I think I've always known. I know they love each other, as friends if nothing else, and given their clandestine sex I think they must really love each other. But maybe they're just lonely. I've sometimes wondered why they don't get married, but I guess by now they're so set in their ways that they wouldn't see the point. Of course they could have gotten married when I was young, but I guess it didn't seem like the thing to do then. They probably think I'd feel threatened if he just came into our family now, but he's always been here, and it wouldn't bother me. Anyway, it doesn't matter because he's not here now, and all I can do is listen to her cry.

I wonder if he's going to come, sometime, I hope. Maybe just for dinner. She'll be okay by then, I think, but I want him to come. I'm only here for the day, because I've got it arranged with McGonagall to come home on all of the special days. This one is Ron's birthday. It's March first. And I want Remus to come because I'm going to have to leave her, and it hurts less when I know she's got someone with her. That's why I'll always be grateful to Remus, because he's here for my mum. He's always been here for both of us.

It's because they're the survivors. There were five on that team, and they survived. They were together for five years, and those two were the only one's left. Her best friends died, and his best friend died. And they were the only two left.

I spread out on the thick carpet, and hope again for him to come, because she's still in there and she's still crying. I can't do anything about it. I push my head into the carpet and breath. I pray that he'll come. I ask God, and then I ask my father. He's been gone for a long time now, since before I was born, and I say that even though I wish I'd known him, I've heard of him, from mom and Remus. I say that Remus has taken good care of us, and I ask him to somehow make him come and take care of us some more. Because I know my dad loved my mom, and I think even in Heaven he's hurting as much as I am listening to her cry.

Someone must hear me, because I sit only a few minutes longer, and then there's a knock at the door. I rush to stand up, and then move quickly down the stairs, and open up the door. And there is Remus standing there, and I let him in. I take his cloak, and point upstairs, and then impulsively I wrap my arms around him, as someone would a father, and I say "Thank you."

He grasps me by the shoulders, and looks me in the eye. "You're a good man James." Then he goes upstairs, where he will open the door, and hug my mother in her white flannel nightgown, and she will stop crying. And I reach into the pocket of his cloak and pull out a bar of chocolate.

Please tell me what you think of this. I think it was clear, but if not, Hermione is the mother. I think you should know who the father is, but if you don't, then it's whomever you wish it to be.