Disclaimer: I do not own the Marauders or Lily. They belong to the ingenious J.K. Rowling. Maranda Black is the property of my friend Cass.
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I don't know why. I don't know why I did a lot of things. But the things I am most confused about have to do with Sirius. I don't know why I said yes. He purposed right after James and Lily died, for God's sake, and we weren't even dating. I had dumped him months ago for a stupid reason. Maybe it was because I thought the war was over. Maybe I thought that none of us would die anymore. I don't know.
And two days later, after he was arrested, why didn't I break it off? Why? I guess maybe I knew that he didn't betray them. In my heart, I think I knew he wouldn't do that. In some ways, I think I knew him better than James or Remus. Even though I thought we would never get married. Even though I thought I hated him. I only knew one thing then. I had to get out. I went home, and moved in with my older brother and my niece and nephew, in Boston, Massachusetts, thinking I was finally free of all the emotional turmoil that the war and Sirius had caused.
Then nearly fourteen years later he showed up on my doorstep, with news that Voldemort had returned. I knew that there would be more bloodshed. That there would be more suffering, and that more than likely my heart would be broken again. And I still agreed to marry him, even though nearly twenty years before I had promised myself that I would never marry while there was a war going on. I guess it goes to show, promises to yourself mean little. And I don't regret it. Not at all. Although I have been left to raise a child on my own, I don't regret it. At least I know the answer to that last one. I said yes for the same reason Maranda and Lily said yes.
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A/N Well? What do you think? And thanks to Maggy Aethelwynsdottir for reviewing the last chapter, and thanks to Acinorev for reviewing my other ficlet, Voldie and the Death Eaters.
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I don't know why. I don't know why I did a lot of things. But the things I am most confused about have to do with Sirius. I don't know why I said yes. He purposed right after James and Lily died, for God's sake, and we weren't even dating. I had dumped him months ago for a stupid reason. Maybe it was because I thought the war was over. Maybe I thought that none of us would die anymore. I don't know.
And two days later, after he was arrested, why didn't I break it off? Why? I guess maybe I knew that he didn't betray them. In my heart, I think I knew he wouldn't do that. In some ways, I think I knew him better than James or Remus. Even though I thought we would never get married. Even though I thought I hated him. I only knew one thing then. I had to get out. I went home, and moved in with my older brother and my niece and nephew, in Boston, Massachusetts, thinking I was finally free of all the emotional turmoil that the war and Sirius had caused.
Then nearly fourteen years later he showed up on my doorstep, with news that Voldemort had returned. I knew that there would be more bloodshed. That there would be more suffering, and that more than likely my heart would be broken again. And I still agreed to marry him, even though nearly twenty years before I had promised myself that I would never marry while there was a war going on. I guess it goes to show, promises to yourself mean little. And I don't regret it. Not at all. Although I have been left to raise a child on my own, I don't regret it. At least I know the answer to that last one. I said yes for the same reason Maranda and Lily said yes.
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A/N Well? What do you think? And thanks to Maggy Aethelwynsdottir for reviewing the last chapter, and thanks to Acinorev for reviewing my other ficlet, Voldie and the Death Eaters.