No one could ever blame you for what you did. No wonder that you wanted to fight him. Oh, you idiot, why didn't you think a little?!
Leaving the circumstances around Sirius Black's death unknown to the world around, the former members of the DA, Dumbledore's Army had left Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry in a state of shock. Specially Harry Potter. Seeing his own godfather die was traumatic for him.
Now being more than ten years since Black's death, Harry and his friends still was in a state of shock. Not as bad as when it happened, but Harry could still get the feeling of being suffocated by grief. Waking up at night, with the sweat flooding down the front, Harry relieved the nightmare.
But he's not the only one grieving. Remus Lupin felt so miserable. Loosing one of his oldest friends, they were now down to the last of the four Marauders. He, Moony, was the only one left. What a depressing thought.
No one could really blame him for being this way. So down, flooded with memories. Wormtail was back with Voldemort, James and Sirius dead... He started to think that he could die too, just leave it all behind. Just leave it...
"Would you like another Butterbeer?"
Remus nearly jumped off his chair. He turned to look at Madam Rosmerta.
"No thanks, Rosmerta, I'd better be going. I might get drunk if I continue drinking."
Madam Rosmerta snorted.
"You can't get drunk from that," she said and sat down on the chair next to him.
"But perhaps you should be," she added, eyeing him very closely. "You look terrible." Remus laughed hollow.
"Yeah, I must look like a ghost. I haven't been sleeping for a long while." She nodded silently.
"Dumbledore told me about Black." Remus turned white.
"Really?" he said, coughing. "I didn't know."
"I'm very sorry about it, Remus," Rosmerta said. "I know you and Sirius were good friends."
"We lost all contact by the time of James's death. He was in the Azkaban, you know." Rosmerta looked hastily at him.
"Well, it was hard to miss. With all the things going on, both then and for – what is it, thirteen years ago?"
"When he escaped? Yes, about thirteen years ago."
"Have you spoken with Harry about it? Loosing his godfather and all must have been terrible for him."
"I have spoken with him about it, of course, but he just keeps ignoring me when I take up the subject. It's like he just can't face it."
"After all this time?" Madam Rosmerta said, amazed. She raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"
"That's the problem, Rosmerta. Since Ron lost his parents, he has been unable to help Harry with dealing the situation."
"Ronald Weasley? They still stick together, then?"
"Yes, both they and Hermione Granger are still friends. No wonder if you think what they've gone through together."
"But Harry still can't face Sirius's death?"
"No, and now, after Molly's and Arthur's death, he's sunken below normal grief. I'm worried about him. For example, you have heard about Cedric Diggory, haven't you? Well, Harry's still going on about that too. It's just as though he's lost his marbles."
"Poor boy," Rosmerta sighed.
"He's twenty-five years old, for God's sake, Rosmerta! He can't go on with it for ever."
Remus regretted what he had said immediately. Madam Rosmerta looked at him with surprise on her face.
"Remus!" she gasped. "You don't mean that!"
"Yeah, I do!" he hissed, and got to his feet. He threw a couple of Sickles on the table and started to make his way out from the Three Broomsticks. When he reached the door, he stopped dead in his tracks.
Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger had just entered the pub.