Yes, I know this is the THIRD time I'm posting this, but I just want to make it less messy. And I've added the 3rd chapter too. After a long long time. SORRY!

Healing Hearts

(the Chocolate Fondue comes later)

by Shuen

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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and other characters. I do not WANT to own Harry Potter and other characters coz if I did I'd just botch it up and everyone will hate me.

Okay, you saw the summary. Now, this is my very very first fanfic. Come to that, this is my very very first long story (yes, it'll be long) I've ever written, so be kind please!!!! Constructive criticism is very welcome, but PLEASE don't flame, coz it's not going to do either you or me any good. So. It starts with the summer hols after OotP, spoilers blah blah blah…

P.S Please forgive me if all the quotation marks etc. all turn out weird. I'm trying to do something about it but this is my first time posting a story, so, bear with me. I know it's tiring to read, TRY to read it please. If it doesn't turn out right, will someone PLEASE tell me how to do it!

P.P.S I've already written the next chapter. Or so.

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Oh god. Sirius is dead. I'm the last of us left. Remus sank deeper into his armchair and stared blankly at the wall across him. Not true, a horrible little voice whispered, amused. There's still Peter…

"PETER!" His furious shout rang through the house, it would have scared anyone to bits, if there had been anyone. "All. This. Is. Because. Of. PETER! Sirius DIED because of Peter! And me…" The last words trailed off as he sank back into the chair.

The memory of that night was still vivid. The crux of the battle against Voldemort. The night when Peter Pettigrew escaped. Remus shuddered and tried to banish the memory, only to have it replaced by the image of Sirius falling through THE veil.

The tears started to fall and he let them flow on unchecked. He had been so calm when stopping Harry from following Sirius, no one saw or even guessed his anguish he felt. The unshed tears had burned his eyes no came pouring out.

The tears began to pool on his robes as he silently sat there, surrounded by the stark reminders of Sirius. He was trapped; he could not go anywhere, and each day, alone in the big mansion, the pain cut deeper and deeper, with nothing to help assuage it.

He hadn't bothered with cleaning up for days, so his hair was messier than Harry's and James' put together, and his robes were downright disgusting. After all, the Order hadn't had any meeting for weeks, in mourning for Sirius.

And Kreacher, he thought bitterly. His master DIED and he happily ran to Malfoy.

The only things that had kept him from suicide, from joining his best friends, was a burning need for revenge on Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort, and his duty to look after Harry now that Sirius was dead.

Just as he was going to go upstairs to bathe, the door banged open setting Mrs Black's portrait off, and a mini whirlwind flew in. A noisy, chattering one.