Wow, I am so sorry about not updating in so long. I have an excuse, though it may mean a bit more to some of you out there than to others. I've been watching baseball and I, along with the rest of Red Sox nation, have spent the past few days in a sleep-deprived zombie state and plan to spend next week in the exact same way. So updates will be a little erratic for the next week. But there are only 2 chapters left after this one, so I swear I will finish it.
Again, none of this is mine and I'm not making any money off of it.
CHAPTER 5
Remus Lupin POV
I remember that time Sirius sent Snape down into the Shrieking Shack during the full moon. I was so furious that I couldn't see or think clearly. I remember sputtering something or other, then a crunch as I rammed my fist into his nose. It was the first and only time I ever hit him. I didn't speak to him for months afterward. Lying here now, I regret those lost months more than anything in my life. And I have a lot of regrets in my past. I wished him dead for a while there. Now I wish desperately for him to be alive.
I held Harry back. I held him back from going after Sirius, from doing the one thing I wanted to do. I knew what that veil was and what it meant, but a part of me just knew that he was there. I got the students out of the Ministry, not thinking about anything except where the next one was and how badly he or she was hurt. But then Fudge arrived with his Aurors and they did their business and mine was over. The veil drew me towards it. I had this irresistible notion that if I just went in a few steps and held out my hand, he would take it and come back. I walked toward it; intent on doing this, but Kingsley picked me up and carried me out. As he did this, I could feel Sirius fading, falling away into death.
I'm lying on this hard, scratchy couch surrounded by friends. Friends I love, but not the friends I need. Not James, not Sirius. Molly sits here beside me, trying to comfort me. But I hear neither her soft words nor her gentle touch on my back. My entire body is numb. I'm drained too, too tired to close my eyes, too tired to sleep. I know that sounds crazy but I already know what my dreams will be. The veil taunting me, telling me I can have him back. I just can't turn and look at him until we're back in the world of the living. But like Orpheus, I will fail and turn just in time to see him fade. How do I know this, even though I have yet to sleep? Simple. I had these dreams for years. Sometimes it was James; other times Lily, sometimes even Peter. But never Sirius. What, was I supposed to lead him out of Azkaban?
He thought I was the spy. I wonder how long he believed this. Probably until he was Peter in the newspaper. Twelve years. For twelve years he thought I was the spy. For twelve years I thought he was the spy. Nobody suspected Peter. Stupid, fat, tagalong Peter.
It's funny that I don't regret those twelve years as much as those few months. They fall in second, but during those months he was there. All I had to do was reach out. But in my anger and stubbornness I refused.
I'm the last one. James is dead. Sirius is dead. The Peter I thought I knew is dead. I was there for the start and now I'm here for the end. I sit up, startling Molly, and take a cup of coffee. Raising it in silent toast, I down the cold, bitter mess.
Resquiat in pacem, my friends.