ENOUGH

He played the piano. She hadn't known it before but she did now. Now as she watched him play, the curtains drawn, the sun streaming in around him and his hair falling in disarray about his face. His long slender from was hunched over slightly about the keys as his fingers drew out the loveliest sounds. The first thing that she had noticed about him was his hands: wide palms and long slender fingers. There was strength in them, and understated strength just like with the rest of him. Then came his eyes, that pale yet rich gold that was so kind and polite although she knew the other moods that could flash in them from time to time: humor, mischief, annoyance and even anger (although it took an unholy amount of effort or stupidity to get to that one). She stood in the doorway, undiscovered for now regarding the man before her as he started a piece that she recognized. "Sea" by George Winston. It was sad, a bit melancholy and overwhelmingly beautiful. One of Sirius' favorites she remembered. Maybe that was his way of dealing with his best friends passing. She remembered a week after Sirius had died he had played it non-stop, over and over again as tears streamed down his face. He cried silently, his sadness soundless yet poignant like all of his emotions. That horrible night when they had come back, he had simply gone into the kitchen, buried his face in his hands and wept silently no sobs or wails, just silent heart wrenching tears, trembling faintly, occasionally moving to wipe his face with his palms shove his hands back through his hair. He didn't scream or yell, rage or grow cold, that she had expected; he just got a bit quiet and exceedingly miserable and kept to himself mostly. She hadn't thought of it before but he must have been so alone. Everyone he had cared for was dead. The last link to his happiness and innocence had been severed. He was the last one standing, for all the good it did him. Death would have probably been a mercy to him peace, finally peace after all the tears and the fighting, all the loneliness and the loss, peace, finally peace. But no, not yet, not for him and he had accepted it with an eerie sort of resignation and gathered up the pieces of his again shattered world trying to ignore the excess of missing bits and moved on, bravely maybe a bit stronger. She would see him from time to time pouring over old pictures and letters from the good old days when he had bee a 'brilliant' teenager, remembering smiling gathering strength from the past. He had told her stories; her and Harry stories about when the certain picture had been taken, pranks they had pulled. Harry... he had been so lost, so alone. Remus had helped him grieve knowing that he would have many questions and need much reassurance and support. He knew what it was like to lose mostly everything he had lost a lot more than a friend with Sirius' passing just as Harry had lost much more than a god father. He had known just like he always did, and had listened like he was known to. He had held her hand when she felt weak and she had cheered him up as much as she could when he had seemed a bit too depressed. She saw him look out the window, up at the blue sky and bright sun smiling slightly as he moved onto yet another piece "And so it goes" by Billy Joel. The sun glinted on his hair and her attention was drawn to it yet again. It was strange that he grew it so long when the rest of him was so conventional. Dirty blonde, down a little past his shoulders, shot through with grey and she knew he would pull it back with a leather band in a halfhearted -ponytail that always had a few locks and or strands loose after a few hours. Glossy, slightly curled, soft, his hair had always fascinated her endlessly. It was just so odd, in such non-concurrence with the rest of him. Like the interesting word choice that he favored when he managed to get upset or frustrated or his wicked sense of humor, which contrasted sharply with his typically quiet, reticent and collected nature. His remarkable obsession with chocolate which seemed almost childish as opposed to his very mature, no-nonsense disposition. He fascinated her. Everything about him, he managed to be so... consistent yet contradictory it was maddening and intriguing, Merlin help her, he was so charming although he would die before admitting it. She hadn't figured out whether his humility was endearing or exasperating as it was a good bit of both.

"Do you know this song?" he asked suddenly looking directly at her. She blushed slightly walked towards him hopping up onto the piano top and laying down across it.

"Yes." She replied, and he nodded looking back at the piano. "I don't know that you knew I was here." He smiled slightly and looked at her again.

"The full moon is in a week." He replied. "There's not much I don't discern." She smiled and shook her head and he looked up at her.

"What?"

"Your way with words. Only you would use those kinds of words."

"What, 'discern'?"

"Yes, you're like a thesaurus with legs. Everyone else notices observes or the like but you, you 'discern'." His smile broadened and he shrugged as he moved onto another song "All love can be" sung by Charlotte Church. She had made him watch 'A Beautiful Mind' a while ago and he had grown fond of the song. "How long have you played the piano Remus?"

"Since I was six I think. My mother used to play it to put me to sleep and I wanted to learn."

"I love to listen to it but I could never play it."

"Why?" he asked.

"Cause it's me." He frowned a bit at that and looked up at her

"You could learn."

"I'd rather listen to you play." He looked back down at the keys and she closed her eyes sighing deeply as he continued. "Do you know any upbeat songs Remus?"

"Perhaps." He replied. She opened her eyes and looked over at him and his eyes were twinkling with humor as he started a new one. She frowned in confusion trying to figure it out. "Do you know it?" he asked.

"I dunno." She listened a bit longer and then a smile creased her face and she began to sing.

"A bottle of white, a bottle of red,

Perhaps a bottle of rose instead.

We get a table near the street,

In our old familiar place you and I face to face.

A bottle of red, a bottle of white,

It all depends upon your appetite.

I'll meet you anytime you want in our Italian restaurant."

He smiled broadly and nodded. "Very good." He commented. She rolled onto her stomach and propped her chin up on her palms. He continued to play and she continued to sing and it warmed something inside her the companionship of the moment, even if she wanted more than friendship, this was more than something and hell of a lot more than nothing. She smiled as the song picked up and his hands moved quickly and skillfully over the keys with unerring precision and perfection. He was incredibly talented and it figured that no one would know it. He never tried to make people aware of his high points. He was perfectly content to blend in with the wallpaper.

"Brenda and Eddie were the popular steady,

And the king and the Queen of the Prom.

Riding around with the car top down and the radio on.

Nobody looked any finer,

Or was more of a hit at the parkway diner,

We never knew we could want more than that out of life.

Surely Brenda and Eddie would always know how to survive."

Remus looked up at her and smiled broadly as he continued to play feeling one of those moments where everything seems to be as good as it possibly could be and one finds himself in a state of perfect happiness. He felt warm, in his bones and it didn't happen now so often as it used to. She made him feel young again, content and just a little bit attractive even if she didn't find him as such. At 37 with a few kisses and dates and one relationship under his belt attractiveness was not something he considered his middle name. Not by any stretch of the imagination. He was nice, reasonably friendly, hopefully pleasant, supposedly a good friend to what friends he had left. That was enough, and it had always been enough and always would be enough and that was a truth he pounded into his head. 'Be grateful Remus, be grateful for what you have no matter how little bit it seems to be because in the next instant it could be and probably will be swept away. It's enough, It's enough just accept it and just leave it at that you don't need more. You don't! Stop wasting your time on wants and focus on what you have here, now. It's enough.' She smiled back and sighed as the song ended and he pulled the lid over the keys of the piano.

"Let's go raid the kitchen shall we?" he asked and she laughed and hopped off of the piano.

"Indeed, let's." she replied rolling her eyes.

It would be enough... for now.

THE END