Noxius

Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work

Warnings: Character death and slight language.

Part Seven: Confession

They say that confessing your sins can ease your soul, that by confessing your misdeeds you will feel better. They say that the path to forgiveness is started by admitting wrong doing. They say that everything, no matter how heinous, no matter how horrible, can be forgiven.

They say all of this.

But I say that the road to hell is paved with good intentions because when I confessed my sins… well, I only felt worse.

When I confessed what I had done, when I told my best friend that I killed Remus; he looked at me in a mixture of confusion and shock. He hadn't exactly been expecting that answer when he asked what was wrong, when he asked me what I wasn't telling him about Remus' death.

He had waited, rather nicely I might add, until after the Order meeting and led me to our favorite room in the Black Mansion, the library – what else would you expect from two Ravenclaws. He had put up every silencing and privacy charm known to wizarding kind – and even a few he himself had invented – and had then asked me point blank what was going on.

Then I had proceeded to ruin his day and, quite likely, his life.

And he had been rather confused when I told him the truth, like he thought I was lying to him. He was bewildered when I said that I killed Remus.

Or course, his confusion was nowhere near as great as his horror when I told him why I had done it. When I told him how and why I had killed Remus. The coup de grâce was, of course, when I told my best friend the prophecy – after swearing him to secrecy by his wand and his very life – and showed him Remus' diary.

And now he just sits there looking at me with his dark eyes like he can't quite fathom what I have just told him. He just looks lost… like his whole world has rewritten itself in the span of mere seconds. And all it took was one statement, one confession from me to send his life crashing down.

My cousin Sirius must be so very proud of me right now – note my sarcasm when I think this. He must be so proud that I have shown Remus Lupin to be the monster that he is, that I have admitted that I am a murderer, that I have destroyed whatever mental image Kingsley had of both of us.

Sometimes I really hate myself.

"Why?" Kingsley asks his dark eyes full of emotion. "Why would he do such a thing?"

I can only shrug and shake my head because, for the life of me, I have yet to figure it out.

"I don't know… but he did," I say after a few minutes, taking back Remus' diary to flip through it for the hundredth time.

Maybe the answer is in here, maybe the answer is in here, but I just haven't realized. I have read this thing so many times, but I am still no closer to figuring out the werewolf's mind-set than I am to solving the mystery of life.

"I just don't understand," he says it the same way a child would, like he his pleading for someone to explain. "I just don't understand how he could know all these things and still blame Harry. How he could he not tell Sirius that he was in danger? How could he not tell the rest of us? How could he know that blasted prophecy and still try to kill Harry?"

I nod in agreement; I don't understand either. "Maybe he's just crazy," I add in an afterthought. "Maybe all those years of horrible transformations and being alone have rattled his brain."

"Or maybe he felt so guilty that he couldn't live with himself and decided that no one else connected to Sirius… or James… should either," Kingsley comments, regaining his usual poise and wit.

"Maybe," I acquiesce, hoping that this is the reason. Further, hoping that I am not about to be blind-sided yet again by another revelation, I've had enough in the past few weeks to last me a lifetime.

We sit in relative silence for a few minutes, both of us contemplating that which has occurred. But then Kingsley has to ask the question I have been dreading since I made my confession.

"So what are we going to do?" Dark eyes stare into mine like he is trying to see inside my mind.

"I don't know." And I don't.

"Are we going to tell the Order?" he asks quietly, running a hand over his bald head. "Are we going to tell Harry?"

"I don't know." And I feel like crying; it takes me a few minutes to realize that I am.

Kingsley looks at me. "Hey." He wipes my tears away. "Hey, don't worry. It'll be alright. I'm here for you, you know." He winks at me and makes a face; I can't help but laugh. He takes my hand and squeezes it in a comforting gesture, for the first time in what seems like forever, I genuinely smile to someone who is not Harry.

"Whatever you decide," he states, "I'll go along with it. Whatever you want, I am here for you."

I look into his dark eyes and for the first time in a long time, I feel like everything will work out. I feel like, in the end, everything will be okay.

Noxius: culpable, guilty, responsible, blameworthy

Ever Hopeful,

Azar