A/n- More Angsty and problematic goodness for you.

Disclaimer- Haven't had one in a good while, so for pI-I34r of lawyers, I own nothing!


Note- Sending my personal thanks to all you readers out there. Thanks a lot you guys, really. :)





Seeing Grey - Part LXXIV - Blind





What a bunch of rubbish... I wanted to play Quidditch tonight. Can't have a ruddy team if we can't get some experience before the season...

Remus sighed, and tuned Sirius' ramblings out from his thoughts. As quietly as he could, as to not disturb the few students crammed around him that were trying to sleep, he unfolded his letter.

Remus,

I really hope you can come back soon, it's dreadful around here. I know you told me to trust everyone, but well, I can't. We may all be the same in one sense, but some of these guys are still perverted asses. And don't you dare bring that friend of yours, Black or whatnot, back here.

Besides that, I just wanted to tell you that things are getting pretty tight around here. Caleb's been sick, and from what Melhane's told me, he still hasn't recovered from whatever last injury. We could all use you back here, Remus.

I think, well, I need you too.

Rhint McCalister

Hey Remus, your cheeks are red. Katie Tutino, a Hufflepuff seventh year said with a very slight smile.

Little distressed, you know. he muttered hastily, stuffing the note into his pocket again.

she laughed, although the sound was empty. You're the last person I would expect to be stressed out by this.

Why... Because you think I'm involved? he snapped.

No, not at all. You just, oh, I don't know. You rise to the occasion. Katie finally said, twisting her sleeve in meditation. Everyone else is busy wallowing in fear or self-pity, but not you. You stay awake and direct everyone, and stay calm. It's comforting to the rest of us, you know.

I'm only doing what I know how to. he mumbled, looking briefly at the floor.

Katie sighed, and shrugged to herself. Well, for the sake of us all, keep doing it. There aren't enough of people like you here, not nearly enough.



Full moon's tomorrow. Peter whispered, sitting cross-legged in front of his friend.

I know, but thanks for reminding me. Remus said quietly, his eyes shut tight. It was one of those few nights that although it wasn't the full moon, his body was feeling the moon's influence to great affect. It was becoming a challenge for him to keep his thoughts coherent.

How are you going to-

Dumbledore said he would manage it. he interrupted shortly.

Peter was wringing his hands together in nerve, Remus noted. So many people had been doing that as of late, he was beginning to think it was a contagious habit.

Aren't you afraid about the war, Remus?

he replied evenly, his eyes still closed in thought. I've been in my own war for some time Peter, this is nothing that I can't face.

I wish I were like you, unafraid. Peter admitted, looking much younger, more vulnerable. I'm scared to death of all this.

It's alright to be worried. Remus mumbled. I'm worried about what's happening, but there's a difference. Fear is backing away, worry is simply another form of caution. Never let yourself fear something like war, it's impossible to win if you're afraid of the outcome.

Peter nodded, his face displaying an unmistakable guilt.

It's never too late to stand up, Peter. You now that, right?

Very quickly, Peter stood up, and muttered about finding a Professor to let him use the restroom.

Poor kid. Remus said to himself.

For many hours he stayed awake, forcing sleep to not overtake his mind as he watched over the students. First years, confused and huddled together. Second years, more aware, more afraid. Third years, pretending it wasn't real. Fourth years, trying to look brave. Fifth and sixth, comforting one another.

Seventh.

It was his last year, he finally realised. His classmates, many awake now, silently sitting together for support, so soon they would be in the war.

Can't sleep?

Remus shook his head, not looking up to greet his Defense Professor.

You should try, at least. We're going to be here until the Ministry is done arguing with Dumbledore.

So they're not shutting the school down, I take.

He'd never let it happen while he's alive. Ms. Horder said.

Might not be long, when the war gets worse.

Ms. Horder nodded, not surprised that he knew the truth of the situation.

How long do you expect?

Six years. Neither side will be able to last too much longer than that.

I give it four. she estimated, conjuring herself a chair and straddling it idly. Once the Defense Department starts the unofficial draft, our forces will be overwhelming.

The Dark is going to recruit as well. Remus pointed out, closing his eyes once again. It was painful to stay awake, though he endured. I think you underestimate them.

No, I think I just want to deny reality. Ms. Horder admitted, finally catching Remus' gaze.

She looks far too tired, he thought. Almost... Frightened, even.

None of us want to face the truth. he said after a long pause. It hurts everyone too much.

Everyone but you.

He turned away, not replying. There was nothing to be said.



This academy is to carry on as normal. Dumbledore said, smiling down at his students.

Remus shook his head, knowing it was feigned, another lie to encourage humanity.

We cannot let the troubles outside these walls disrupt our teaching.

He's just trying to make us feel safer. Nothing's changed out there.' he mused, tracing his form along his empty gold plate. His stomach lurched, awaiting its first full meal in a while.

Moony, food's up. James said some time later, poking his friend in the side. He had fallen asleep again, sitting upright.

Oh. Thanks.

You shouldn't let the war get to you. James suggested between bites of his toast. I can tell that it is, you have that empty look again. That, and you aren't eating. I know something's wrong when you stop eating.

Distantly, Remus cut his eggs into tiny triangles and squares, watching as the windows opened for the morning mail.

More Black Writes. he observed dully, waiting for James' owl to deliver the Daily Prophet. As expected, the front headline screamed of another attack.

James cursed, unfolding his paper. Another Muggle-born raid.

They aren't going to stop. Remus said dully. You might as well get used to them now, or stop reading the post altogether.

Remus, your owl. Peter interrupted, backing away from the snapping bird.

Offering a portion of bacon as a peace treaty, Remus wrestled his letter free from the old owl.

Letter from your girlfriend? Sirius asked, smiling in amusement.

Shut up. he muttered under his breath, noticeably flustered. While the Marauders laughed, a rare sound as of late, Remus broke the wax seal on the thick parchment.

My brother sent it, I'll have you know.

You know Moony, you haven't talked much of him for a long while. Did something happen? James observed, still chuckling.

You could say that. Remus answered, frowning as he read.

Remus,

I realise you aren't ready to forgive me yet, and I can respect that. I'm fully ashamed of myself, and I don't expect you to ever trust me again. This is merely my last amends. I'm sorry, Remus, I can't express that enough. I have so little to live off of, and I lost so much in one night. I blame myself for how I acted, it was rash and inexcusable. Please, understand one thing though.

I'm sorry, so much more than I'll ever be able to tell. It wouldn't be right of me to ask forgiveness, but I can't carry on with this guilt. Please, let me try to start over.

There's no need to reply, I'll understand if this goes unanswered.

Romolus

Sirius... Do you have a quill? Remus asked quietly, turning the parchment over, forcing his hands to comply. They seemed to feel like lead, unwilling to move.

Will a pencil do? I always have one around, for Map modifications. he said, rummaging through his many pockets. With a grin, he produced a very overused pencil, pensive bite marks covering the stubby eraser.

Muggles were brilliant for inventing these things. A little wasteful, but they're a lot more convenient. he declared, holding it out.

Hesitantly, Remus took hold of the pencil, his hand unsteady.

With a long sigh, he began his note.

Maybe I can see you over the holidays, brother.

Satisfied, he folded the letter and sent it off.

Maybe this time I'll be able to forget. he said hopefully, an odd smile lingering on his lips.



No more Forson? Peter whispered in excitement, bouncing on the balls of his feet. An idiotic grin plastered on the face of every student, the class chattered endlessly.

Excuse me-

Poor chap thinks he can actually get our attention. Sirius noticed, shaking his head in pity. They really need to find better replacements.



Surprised and amused at the small man's volume, the throng of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws turned in silence.

Sirius snickered, as the man himself looked startled at their cooperation.

Thank you. he began, trying to stand up straight. As you may have noticed, your previous Potions Professor is currently gone-

A brief pause, as the class exploded in cheers.

-although he will be returning at a later date.

A similar wave of booing and groans followed.

Where is he? Remus asked over the commotion.

Er, well, I'm not really supposed-

James asked, smiling at the affirming look he received. Serves the bastard well, don't you think?

I suppose, but I bet he's only in a Med unit. Do you really think they'd let a bloke like him in the Auror's divisions? Nah, he's going to be brewing healing potions back at some dingy base I'll bet. Sirius mumbled.

Yeah, so where-

Marcus, I'll assume the class is well-behaved?

Silenced by her presence, everyone slowly closed their mouths.

Oh, hello Celia. Er, yes, they're being alright I suppose-

You suppose, Marcus? she asked dryly, rolling her deep eyes to herself. If you aren't sure, perhaps you're unfit to teach this class. By all means, if you can't decide whether or not they're behaving, I doubt you can handle seventh-year Potions.

Snickering, Peter nodded his own agreement.

he murmured, his pale face tingeing red.

I'm just joking. she said, shrugging at the class, eliciting a few laughs from the Marauders. Anyway, I need a few chairs, alright? My classroom doesn't have any desks and I need ten or so.

I don't have ten to sp-

Thanks Marcus. Ms. Horder said in a hurry, magicking a dozen or so chairs to follow her as she dashed out the door.

Flustered, the substitute Professor started to grumble to himself.

Well, class, since we don't have any chairs now, you may as well make yourself comfortable on the floor.

Er, what's you name? a Ravenclaw finally asked, looking around the room.

Red-faced, he bit his lip.

Only a few students bothered to even try and refrain from laughing.



How do you know that prat? Peter laughed as he walked into Defense.

I know quite a few prats, Mr. Pettigrew. the professor replied, glaring at him in particular as she arranged the desks.

Confused at this new concept, as desks had been abandoned the year before, the mix of Houses crowded by the door.

Ms. Horder instructed, turning around.

Raising an eyebrow, Remus nearly sputtered his immediate thought.

Say one word, my dear child, and you are going to regret it next time we have a demonstration class. she snapped, eyes warning him more than her words. I have a friend coming in today, I figured Muggle blue jeans and a ponytail would be inappropriate.

This is more than acceptable. James said, smiling idiotically. Sirius nodded an agreement, thoroughly enjoying the sight of his favourite professor in dress robes.

Black, if I hear one more cat-

Sorry ma'am. he corrected hastily, catching sight of her wand tipping from her front pocket.

After a short lecture on proper behaviour and a lengthy process of seating arrangements (Remus, James, Sirius and Peter had all been strategically separated) there came a knock on the classroom door.

Anyone being disrespectful shall face a very unpleasant detention. she hissed, calling for her guest to enter.

A small and frail looking man entered, clad in such a perfect colour of black he was hard to distinguish from the shadowy, windowless room. As he walked through the crooked isle of desks, Remus caught sight of his aging face. He smiled curiously, evaluating everyone with his dark eyes.

This is my old mentor, Takahashi Ryosuke-san.

The old man waited for a greeting, Remus and a quiet Ravenclaw he knew, Marah Kromwell, the only ones bowing in respect.

Answering the glare from their professor, the class awkwardly followed suit.

he said, bowing his head in return. Celia-san asked me to come in today to meet you.

Ryo, pardon my interruption, but I need to remind you they are only here for an hour. Ms. Horder said, her voice apologetic.

Ah, yes. the man said, chuckling to himself. As I am told, you are well-taught in the arts of self-defense, as by way of my former student. he went on, smiling inwardly at old memories of a feisty graduate. But your training is far from complete. In a situation of conflict, every one of you would fall.

C'mon, some of us can best Ms. Horder now! a Hufflepuff declared.

Frowning, Mr. Takahashi pursed his lips in wake of the expected response.

And do you know why that is?

The class failed to produce an answer for some time.

Well, we know how she moves, and we can predict her next moves based on how she reacted times before. James finally said, rather unsure of himself.

The old Japanese sensei smiled enthusiastically.

he said, nodding an approval. James, his timid face forgotten, smiled in pride of his wisdom. Correct defense can only be found through total understanding of one's own enemy.

That isn't going to help us when we're confronted by someone we don't know. Remus pointed out skeptically.

To be successful in every situation, one must realise their foe's intentions. It can work as well as all the knowledge gained through recognition. For, I ask you, how is it possible to properly protect oneself when the opposition's objective is unclear?

Leaning back in his chair, Remus let escape a smile. This was tactical fighting, something more like chess. To him, it was far more enjoyable than forcing himself to restrain his wolfish urge to destroy his opponent, a daily battle he despised.


Rom, I... You've got to leave, I can't hold it back much more... he whispered, clutching tight to his bloodstained and mangled blanket. It was the only comfort his father would allow him to have during these traitorous nights.

I'm not leaving you alone on the Harvest. his brother said sternly, trying to snap the young boy to his calm mind. Not right now, anyway. I can slip out later, I'm not leaving you here alone. You're going to hurt yourself again.

I don't wanna hurt you. Remus cried, his face scrunched up in intolerable pain.

I know Remus, just fight it a little longer.


What if there is no objective? he asked rather suddenly, snapping out of his daze. What if your enemy has no clear goal?

Then you are facing life in its purest form. the old man replied, bowing his head low. For in war, there will always be a cause, a mission one could say. Life often strays from this rule.

The class sat silent, trying to understand what was being said.

Ms. Horder looked from her mentor, and then to Remus. Slowly their eyes met, and both smiled at how ironic life was to them, how accurate the oration seemed to be.

It does. Remus mumbled, his voice lost to the group. You just don't always want to see it.






A/n- Wow, another one down... I have exams soon, so don't expect any updates (though I may surprise you). Anyway, can you believe it? This git of a fic is well over a year old, and still going strong, I guess. You all realise I'll have to end it soon, no? That'll be a sad day... The end of Seeing Grey. I can barely comprehend it, let alone plan writing it. Ah!

Iggie


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