Hope

Dark Remusfic by twos

2 - There's hope.

4 - There is, isn't there?

8 - I try to endure. Can't I still hope?

16 - I can hope still that something as irreversable as death could be undone for the Marauders.

32 - We could do anything, anything! We could... we could... I don't know. I don't know anything without Sirius and James. I transform alone now, wishing and hoping the wolf will remember him.

64 - The wolf has forgotten Sirius altogether. It's a stab in the chest, that forgetfulness. But a stab with a silver plade. Pain, pain beyond death, but relief also, relief in forgetting, relief in death. To end a silent and lonesome life, to end the constant plague of suffering. To put a stop to the hatred and the tears and oceans of regret and guilt.

132 - But I cannot die, yet. I cannot die, now. I am immortalized by my responsibility, the greatest that there is or could ever be. I am charged with Harry's protection. It is a sacred charge, but one that I regret, because I see his greif and it adds to my own. And I cannot look at him without seeing James and Sirius. I cannot look into his eyes without thinking of Lily. And I cannot stop looking at him. If I do... he'll vanish. He'll leave me. He's my family and I'm his family and that's all I've got, my only lifeline, my only hope. I don't know if he sees it. I see his demons, though. A part of him dies each stagnant day. I cannot hide the news papers anymore.

264 - It is over. Over. Over. We cannot fight against so many. Their numbers double day by day. Harry and I move once, sometimes twice a week. We never stop. We never rest. I don't sleep. I keep using charm after charm, ordering potion after potion. When I run out, I might die. Because I will sleep for days. If Dumbledore were here, he would not stand for it, but there would be nothing he could do. Because I linger on, a waking nightmare, a hellish parody of life. We hang on together by a fraying thread. Attacks, day by day. Loneliness and solitude - he knew it, but never to this extent. I tell him stories and I talk to him when he sleeps, telling him things I cannot when he is awake. He has never been this apart. One day, they will catch up, and the war will end, and I will die in a blaze of glory, and be with my brothers, my pack-mates. Harry will come soon after and then he'll have a family again. A proper family, not the sniveling Dursley Muggles or the pitiful company I provide. By that time, there will be enough people there that we know that he might be happy. Even if we died today, we might be. He would join the bravest of his teachers, the Gryffindor side, and many of his old friends, and there would be new people I could introduce him to every day. That death and what will come after is all that sustains me. My only hope.