Disclaimer: Alright, I killed the scarlet woman----* cough * I mean, yes, I did steal Harry Potter. I think of it as mine. Come and get me and arrest me for thought crime, just like in 1984…
Author's Note: This is the epilogue, but please still review. I'm so sad that I've reached an utterly terrifying state of no words……………….Alrighty, so we're not quite there yet. Anyway, this takes place during the summer before Harry's sixth year, around August (remember, he was about eleven months in my story). I kinda, umm…accentuate Harry's anger management issues from the fifth book, so don't kill me…yet. And yes, I'm sorry, but I'm not bringing Sirius back to life in this, because then he wouldn't be a memory, (hence the title, Memories We Missed,) he would be real. Oh gods, the possibilities…
I should shut up, but…: I just posted my new story that I was talking about in the prior chapter, the one that's a lot like Memories We Missed, except Sirius and James are in their 7th year. So just check it out; it's called Mishap. I also thank anyone and everyone who reviewed, so THANK YOU! I WUHV YOU!!! So, if it tickles your fettish, read it (but still review now, pleasie!?)
*~*~ Life is like a sewer…what you get out of it, depends on what you~*~*
*~*~put into it~*~*
Memories We Missed: Epilogue; Exactly 15 Years and Two Months Later, Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place…
For having all of the Weasley family, Mad Eye Moody, Lupin, Tonks, Harry, and the currently veiled portrait of Sirius's mother, crammed together in one living space, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was unusually quiet…
There was also the ludicrous fact that Percy, Fred, and George were all forced to share a room amongst themselves. You can just imagine the events from there.
But still, the house was in a terrifying taciturn state. The summer was passing them by, and it was raining. Pouring. The house would groan with every step taken, and everyone was mad and moody, except for Mad Eye Moody himself, ironically. He would sing and drink from his hip flask, uttering inanities about footsteps and stew to anyone who faced the misfortune of being within ten feet of him.
In the back corner room of the house, where Sirius used to keep Buckbeak, Harry, Hermione, and Ron, sat against the hard, unforgiving, wood wall. Silently.
Hermione looked at Ron, Ron looked at Harry, Harry ignored both of them, so thus making Ron look back at Hermione, who dramatically sighed and threw up her arms.
"Listen Harry, you need to---!!!" Hermione started, but Harry, as usual as of lately, ignored her.
Eh…what's she blabbing about now? Sheesh, Ron and Hermione can be so demanding sometimes…
No, no. You're just a provocative ass.
WHAT? Damn, I can't even get silence in my own mind. SILENCE! Ever heard of 'peace of mind'?
I pity you. Falling into a state of interminable decadence. Makes me ill, you see.
Because you are me? God, why don't you just shut up.
"…god, why don't you just shut up… Shut up I say! " Harry scowled, still waging wars subconsciously, (though consciously to us sane people
* cough *)
"…DID YOU JUST TELL ME TO SHUT UP? ALL SUMMER, ALL YOU DO IS MOPE AROUND---I'M SICK OF YOUR GIBES!! YOU'RE DOING THIS TO YOURSELF, Harry…" Hermione came with the quick repartee, but instantly regretted it, as Harry stormed out of the room without further ado. He had been like this all summer, and the frizzy haired witch decided that if no one was going to tell him to pick up the pieces over his godfather, than she would.
Ah, damn over garrulous tendencies. And pretentious notions.
Glancing down at Ron, since she had jumped up in her affluent fury, she found her flame-headed crush shaking his head noncommittally.
"What?!" She spat, very ashamed at her earlier stigmatic outburst.
"………..You tit ……"
"What did you just call me!?" Hermione asked, more shocked than angry
"You heard me."
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Always Hypochondriac Percy was carrying a heavy load of laundry to the Muggle washing machine, when suddenly someone knocked into him, and he had no clothes.
I mean, no more laundry.
They were scattered everywhere, and as if not to dirty them more so, Percy scrambled to pick them off the lavishly carpeted hallway floor, with the help from Mad Eye Moody, who had been stalking him the whole day, ranting about the stupidity of ice cubes.
Glancing around for the perpetrator, Percy easily spotted him, clumsily making his way up the attic stairs.
"Hey! Harry! Er…Harry…" Ever since he had arrogantly ignored his family and said all of those…lovely things about the Potter boy, in truth, he had been going out of his way to avoid him.
Harry ignored the frightened young man basking in his own clothes, and anyone he dared to disrupt his intentions of stomping up the long stair case would find their actions proven futile.
Poor, poor, Weatherby.
Nervous laughter, "Ummm…Harry dear chap? Would you care to…h-help pick up this mess you created? I—it would be very…kind of you, dear boy." Percy tented his fingers, still sprawled ridiculously on the floor in the middle of his clothes.
Harry spun immediately on the spot, his dark green eyes boring right through Percy like laser; as if he had intentions to blow him up with his ultra patent ray. Maybe he did.
Grabbing anything within arms-length, Harry startled hurtling it at Percy, who shrieked and ducked. Mad Eye Moody still stood there, chuckling, moving onto his version of how electricity was invented.
"WHY CAN'T ANYONE IN THIS HOUSE JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!!! LEAVE---ME----ALONE!!! AND ALL OF YOU SHUT UP WHILE YOU AT IT, TOO!!" Harry shouted, letting off some pent-up, post-Sirius death anger, as he catapulted pictures off the wall at Percy; most of the time dead-on hits.
"Ah---ow! Harry—stop that! Stop that!" Percy scrambled left and right, trying his best, (which wasn't very good. He wasn't physically coordinated all that well,) to dodge the smashing portraits; all whom were protesting being chucked around. Though secretly it was the most excitement they had had in couple hundred years.
Now ducking behind Mad Eye Moody, who in his best senses had assumed that they were under attack, impulsively screaming 'Run away! Run away! Draw your wands and run away!' He peeked out from his behind his barrier, as the air-raid had subsided for a the time being.
Mumbling, as Harry had disappeared upstairs, "Ye gads, that boy belongs in a Funny Farm…" Still gripping Moody's legs from behind.
"I HEARD THAT!!!!!!" Came the echoing shout from the floor above him.
"Eep!"
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He was furious, completely and utterly, incensed. For no apparent reason, but nonetheless…
So, to make some of his rage disappear, Harry kicked a couple of the dusty boxes in the attic. He imagined that Sirius's parents wouldn't be the types to keep family emblems, so they had to be his godfather's. Surprisingly, that made him more upset---occasionally, he pretended that the boxes were that dopey house-elf that lived here, Snape, Malfoy---even the muggle postman at Privet Drive with his overbearing body-odor.
Kicking was loosing its value, so picking up the closest, most sooty box; he threw it against the wall with all of his might, the contents showering down on him.
Ouch. And some of them were hard!
In a slight stupor, Harry groped the floor next to him until he had the accursed objectile in his hand.
It was a camera---an old one, but not like any camera he had ever seen before. It had so many knobs and dials, and a variety of buttons; enough to make him wonder how they could ever find enough purposes for them.
Harry sat there for a while, turning it over in his hands. Perhaps it came with instructions? So, a man with a mission now, he walked around in circles in the small and stooped attic until he was sure that he had collected all of the oddities that had belonged in the box.
The camera, an ugly looking photo-album dotted in flowers, a couple rings, disturbing looking action figures, and more odds and ends.
He was wary to pick up the photo album and look at. A) It was Sirius's, and the last thing he wanted to do was to be reminded of him right now. B) It was Sirius's, and no one could ever know what to expect in a photo-album his godfather had made. The worst, most likely.
Tenderly, he flipped open to the first page---and blew out a large, shaky and startled breath of air.
Not what he expected to see---a picture of Sirius, peacefully asleep, sprawled out on a couch as rays of sunlight illuminated him and the baby sleeping on top of his chest---him.
It was so real; he could see their miniscule chests rising in falling in even breathing. Harry stared at the snapshot for the longest time, his feelings in limbo. He felt nothing, nor did he want to---he just wanted to get lost in the moment that he had absolutely no memory of.
Laboriously, he turned the next page, and the next, his awe growing. They were all pictures of Sirius and his father. He was there too, and they were doing numerous weird activities.
Strolling in the park, Sirius as the giant black dog, Lupin was in it as well---they were playing with the hideous action figures he had found, Sirius was cooking---flying with him on a motorcycle while his father yelled from the ground; there was even one with them at Rosemerta's…though it looked like his godfather was drunk and he was wearing someone's underwear.
That was just the beginning. There was strange one too---he could swear that there was one of Sirius shoving Snape into a freezer of sorts, but he couldn't be sure.
Finally, the raven-haired boy turned to the last page of the photo album---his heart began to beat fast and irregular.
His father was there with his arm around his mother, who was holding him. They were all smiling, especially his flame haired mother, who was on the verge of smirking. His father seemed to be playfully yelling at her, either 'Silence foul temptress!' or 'Violence owls attempt things!'. Umm…he couldn't be sure which.
He had to have been up in that crowded, oddly homey, attic for a long time when Remus came up behind him softly, stopping at the stairs.
"Harry?" His voice was etched with worry, his face was more tired then ever, and for the first time, Harry realized he had lost someone too: his best friend.
Calmly, Harry closed the album and gently placed it back in its box. He would be coming up here more often; he could tell.
Worried that the teen may explode at him, as he had been doing to everyone, Moony cautiously inquired, "What were you doing up here, Harry?"
Smiling now, as he looked around the small, enclosed room with no windows, that was the only key to his past, "Oh…you know. Just getting reacquainted with my family."
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A/N: Sheesh. I'm so bad at this. First, I promised to have this epilogue up a loooonnnngggg time ago. But here I am again, late. I also thought that I could do so much better at the ending, but I'm….just stupid. And lazy. I love all of you, but these are my three favorite people who were pretty much there all the way…
Someone Reading-Yay! I love you! You always reviewed every chapter, and you were the first person not to flame it, either. I feel obliged to dedicate this whole story to you! I hope you like Mishap---you inspired me to get going on it.
Eye-Changling-I don't know what I owe you in this story.
* Self-righteous smirk * Well, anyway, thank you, I guess. You and your bizarre comments, ktb. I shall see you in the realm of roleplaying and storytelling!! I salute you!
Alex7-I stress this----you were my very first reviewer---for Trouble in Paradise that was no paradise and all trouble. * Grin * Thank you, because even though you were my first reviewer, you are still reviewing and your comments are very helpful! (You're one of the few who helps me with spelling errors and grammar mistakes) Thank you!