I have several other completed HP stories (all of which I finished before HBP) but since the book just came out and this is based on it, I thought I'd post it right away. For all of those that haven't read HBP: THIS TAKES PLACE DURING THAT BOOK (though, IMO, there aren't any important spoilers to speak of)!
Title: Enough
Author: Erika
Rating: PG
Summary: Harry and Remus share a moment remembering Sirius.
Timeframe: During HBP, before Christmas dinner.
Spoilers: Definitely for HBP (but nothing very important) and extremely minor ones for OotP (unless, somehow, you don't know who dies at the end!)
Category: POV
Disclaimers: Hogwarts and all of its characters belong to JK Rowling, I'm only borrowing them to have a little fun and I promise to return them unharmed (well, at least mostly unharmed). I'm making no money from this and this is written for entertainment purposes only.
Feedback: Both positive feedback and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated and will be cherished!
Archive: Please ask first.
Author's Note: This takes place during HBP but isn't exactly canon. I really enjoyed the book but there were a few things I wish had happened differently, among them the beginning of some sort of friendship between Remus and Harry since, IMO, they were the two closest people to Sirius. Also, there's no mention of Tonks. I have to problem with her and a potential relationship with Remus but think it was introduced too abruptly and not handled well.
Remus:
"Ah, Remus," Molly greeted me with a brilliant smile as she opened the front door. Her bright red hair was slightly disheveled and her clothes a little ruffled. It was obvious that she was in the middle of Christmas preparations and hadn't been expecting company quite yet. "Happy Christmas."
"Happy Christmas," I returned, inclining my head momentarily. "Forgive me for arriving so early but–"
"Oh, not at all," she assured me genially. "I know things have been...difficult for you."
Suppressing a sigh I nonetheless nodded my consent. As a werewolf living in the Wizarding world I'd always faced certain unavoidable obstacles. Finding and keeping a job had been hard and had grown increasingly more so with the passing years. However, despite the dingy flats and constant poverty, I'd always managed. The fact that my life had never been easy was part of the stigma of what I was. It grew wearying at times but there was little I could do to change people's popular perception of werewolves.
Things were different now. It was somewhat surprising but I found myself missing those days. Even when I remembered the painfully casual cruelty of my fellow wizards, as well as the many physical and verbal attacks I'd had to endure, I found it a preferable existence to the one I currently had.
Living among my equals was both challenging and disheartening. Housing was difficult to obtain and food nearly impossible. The areas frequented by werewolves were decaying, dark, and dank. My neighbors were, more likely than not, sadistic and dangerous. Even though I was 'one of them', they'd immediately seen that I was used to living among the people they hated so deeply.
Almost upon arriving, I'd been assaulted and robbed of most of my money. When I managed to procure food, I often had to fight off those who thought they could steal it from me. It would have been easy to defend myself with magic but that would have made it impossible to obtain their trust.
According to Professor Dumbledore, their reticence to welcome me as a brother had to do with more than the fact that I was a wizard. He said they'd sensed something in me not shared by most of our kind and it made them suspicious. They thought it was a weakness that they could use to their advantage. I hadn't understood the headmaster's meaning. He'd smiled and told me that what truly separated me from them was my heart.
They could steal and kill for their food – could even plot to convert as many people as possible – and feel no remorse for their misdeeds. I was incapable of that. Never in my life had I purposefully harmed another. Never in my life had I tried to contaminate a single person. The times I'd come close to doing such a thing, to endangering someone's life, had filled me with guilt that I carried with me to this day.
It had happened the most often with Sirius. His unwavering insistence and commitment to doing everything in his power to make my condition easier to bear had often put him in grave peril, though he'd never admitted it. There'd been times when I'd nearly killed him. I'd come the closest during the first full moon that I'd allowed him to accompany me after the Prank. After transforming, my hurt at Sirius' betrayal had turned to a terrible, primal anger. Enraged, the wolf had nearly ripped Padfoot to pieces.
I'd been mortified. Despite the breach of my trust, Sirius had remained my closest friend. The thought that I'd almost murdered him… I almost hadn't been able to face him. Looking at him and remembering what I'd done had been terrible. He hadn't blamed me for anything – he never did – but that hadn't made it any easier for me. His eyes had been gentle and understanding but when I'd looked into them I'd only been able to see myself biting and clawing the fur from his canine body…
His belief that I wasn't a monster had never wavered, though.
The thought filled me bitter sadness. Sirius… I'd missed him terribly since agreeing to spy on my fellow werewolves. He'd always been the one who had told me, time and time again, that I wasn't responsible for what I did as a wolf. Vehemently, fiercely, and with such conviction, he'd assured me that I was whole and human and not a Dark creature. No matter what, no matter what Moony ever did, Sirius had never wavered from that belief.
I needed that now. I needed his support and reassurances. Seeing how most werewolves lived, knowing that most of them supported Voldemort, had shaken me. They were heartless and vicious. They did not care for decency or morality. The Wizarding world had forsaken us and they were intent on making it pay. The longer I lived among them the less sure I became of my own humanity. What made me so different from them? Was it something innate, some goodness I carried, or was it merely chance and circumstance? I often wondered. If it hadn't been for Professor Dumbledore's kindness in allowing me to attend Hogwarts, would I have been just like them?
The question haunted my thoughts. There were nights I barely slept. Even though I knew it wouldn't change my doubts or insecurities, I desperately wanted to be able to sit with Sirius and confide in him. He'd always understood me so well. He'd always listened so well. He wouldn't have brushed my concerns aside or fumbled for useless, meaningless words. He would have accepted my thoughts, reminded me that he would never see me the way the rest of the Wizarding world did, and done his best to show me that I wasn't what I feared – a monster. He wouldn't have cared that it was Christmas. He would have stayed with me for as long as I wanted.
It didn't matter, though. None of that mattered. Sirius was gone and I had no one to tell me such things anymore. I had no one to understand. Oh, I had friends. Not many, but enough to keep me from feeling too lonely or isolated. They weren't the same, though. They didn't care about my condition but I didn't feel as if I could talk to them the way I had talked to Sirius. They didn't know. They'd never been there. They'd never seen me transform. They'd never seen me after moonset, weak and covered in self-inflicted wounds. How could I tell them what I truly felt, what I truly feared, when they didn't know what it was like for me?
I sighed. I missed my friend. Especially now.
"Remus, dear?" I felt a warm hand on my shoulder and Molly's concerned face was abruptly brought back into focus. "Are you well?"
"Yes, of course," I forced a smile onto my lips. "I was lost in thought."
She nodded though I could tell she didn't quite believe me. "Well, come in, come in!" she stepped aside and ushered me into the Burrow. It wasn't until the heat of the blazing fire spread across my skin that I realized how cold I'd been, standing outside. It was blissful to feel the numbness slowly leave my body. What was more, it was wonderful to be here. I rarely had the opportunity to visit the Burrow but it was cozy and welcoming. The Weasleys were kind and generous and I was happy and relieved to be spending Christmas with them.
"You're too skinny, Remus," she chided. "Would you like a bite to eat or something to drink? Dinner won't be ready for another couple of hours."
Immediately, I shook my head. "Not at the moment, thank you."
Molly shook her head disapprovingly but didn't try and argue with me. "Well, then I hope you'll forgive me but there's still so much to do. Arthur's not here yet but please feel free to make yourself at home," she gestured towards the small living room. "Let me know if you need anything."
Smiling, I watched Molly disappear into the kitchen. For a few moments I stared at the couch and comfortable chairs available to me but did not sit down. The Burrow was uncommonly quiet. I hadn't seen them upon arriving but perhaps the kids were all outside. With no real aim in mind, I climbed the stairs to the second floor of the house and wandered down the hallway, barely glancing into the bedrooms as I passed them.
They were quiet and, except for one, empty of inhabitants. When I came to the twins' room – which now resembled something of a storeroom – I was surprised to see Harry standing in front of the window and staring out into the cold winter day.
Curious, I stepped just inside the room. When he didn't hear me enter, I cleared my throat softly and greeted him. "All right, Harry?"
He jumped slightly and spun to face me, clearly startled.
I smiled apologetically. "Sorry. I didn't mean to surprise you."
"Professor Lupin." He seemed pleased to see me but his eyes were sad and he was clearly troubled.
"Where are Ron and the others?" I inquired curiously, wondering if they'd had some sort of row.
He shrugged rather listlessly. "I dunno. They're around somewhere."
I frowned, a little concerned. How were things going for Harry? I really didn't know. After Sirius' death, I'd wanted to keep in touch with him but Dumbledore had sent me to spy on the werewolves. I was glad to be of service to the Order but did regret that it kept me so unaware of what was going on in Harry's life.
"How are you?" I sincerely wanted to know but I doubted he'd confide in me. I'd been his professor. Though he was obviously fond of me, we weren't close. He had his own friends and in the end I was, well… I was no Sirius.
Sirius… It was better now than it had been during the months following his death. The full moons were possibly the hardest. I'd lock myself inside my flat while my fellow werewolves roamed the streets in packs, howling and fighting and drawn to any innocent person that might have the misfortune of passing by. Hearing their calls made it more difficult for me. I often awoke the next morning covered in abrading gashes, having lost dangerous amounts of blood. It was then, when I was struggling to clean myself up and force a bit of food down, that I missed Sirius the most. Whenever possible, he'd spent the full moons with me and taken care of me after the transformations had sucked the strength from my body. Doing this alone after having my friend unexpectedly returned to me, broken but innocent and still so concerned for my well being, was heartrending.
"I'm fine," Harry replied a little too quickly, almost automatically. He'd obviously been asked that question a lot lately, probably by Molly and every other member of the Order he'd seen. He probably just wanted to be alone for awhile. Dealing with everyone's constant concern for his wellbeing was surely getting a bit tiresome.
I nodded once. "Well then, I'll leave you be."
I was nearly out the door when his suddenly very quiet voice stopped me. "Professor…" he very nearly whispered, sounding hesitant.
I immediately faced him again. "Yes, Harry?" I inquired kindly, immediately taking note of the blush that now colored his cheeks as he debated what he wanted to say to me.
"I…er… I've been thinking about… Sirius," he finally managed with great difficultly, lowering his gaze to the floor. I wasn't sure what it was he didn't want me to see. His embarrassment or his grief? He'd grown quite attached to Padfoot in a rather short period of time. It'd been very difficult for him to lose his godfather, the only father figure he'd ever had.
"So have I," I confided softly.
Harry's eyes darted back to my face momentarily. He hadn't been expecting that reply and it seemed to set him partially at ease. Perhaps it was because it showed him he wasn't alone in his grief or perhaps it was because he was used to people avoiding the subject of his godfather entirely. Whatever the reason, he was grateful for my words.
"I was just remembering…last Christmas," he continued haltingly and it occurred to me that he might not have spoken about his godfather since his death. "It was the happiest I ever…saw him."
I smiled sadly, remembering. "He spent a lot of time alone in that house. It was hard for him. He liked having you there, especially for the holidays." Dumbledore had kept me busy with Order business. Sirius had understood the necessity but my absences had made things still more difficult for him. I'd really been his only friend. Harry spending Christmas with him had been a blessing. I would never forget his constant if off-key singing of carols. It had reminded me so much of how things had been before…before everything had gone so terribly wrong.
"I know," he murmured, still more softly. "I wish…he'd been like that more often."
So did I. Azkaban had taken so much out of him. Then to be trapped in that house… He'd deserved more joy and Harry, who'd been robbed of both his parents as well as his godfather, deserved to have known him as he had been…reckless, energetic, kind, and full of such vitality. If only he could have seen them together, his father and Sirius…
I swallowed imperceptibly. If only… There were too many 'if onlys' in Harry's life. Far too many. It was still very painful for me to remember Sirius, to remember what I'd lost, but at least I had years worth of memories, from school and afterwards. What did Harry have? More than he had of his parents but not much. He'd barely known Sirius, had barely even seen him.
"I…miss him," I spoke very quietly. It was difficult to get the words out. I wasn't one to open up easily. Sirius had really been the only person I'd ever been able to talk to. Somehow, he'd broken through all the barriers I'd set up between myself and others – barriers that prevented me from forming deep friendships with people just as much as they prevented me from getting hurt. Somehow, he'd made me truly trust him, at least until fear and uncertainty had set in, giving me cause to suspect my best friend of a crime I should have known he'd never have been able to commit.
Harry smiled tentatively and some of the sorrow left his eyes. I knew that I'd said the right thing. Or, if not the right thing, at least something that had helped. And really, that was all I could do. Help. I couldn't understand what he was going through, understand what it was like to have had so many people ripped from his life, but at least I could do something.
Maybe someday, when times weren't so difficult and I wasn't in such desperate need of a friend like Sirius, I'd do more. Maybe I'd tell him about his parents and Sirius. Maybe I'd even tell him of his very first Christmas, when Sirius had taken him flying. James and Lily had been preparing dinner. They'd left Padfoot in charge of Harry. For whatever unfathomable reason, Sirius had gotten it into his head that his six-month-old godson would like flying. He'd snuck out of the house, cast a Warming Charm on the gurgling baby, and flown him around town, doing all sorts of fancy and rather dangerous moves on his broomstick.
Lily had been furious when he'd landed! She'd handed Harry to James, grabbed the broomstick from a startled Sirius, and hit him upside the head with it. Then she'd heard the half-stifled sound of her husband choking back shrieks of laughter and stormed back into the house, marveling at the miracle that Harry had survived so long with a father and godfather who were so 'immaturely reckless.'
I shook my head.
Why had I thought of that? It'd been so long since I'd remembered anything regarding Sirius that didn't have to do with his unjust imprisonment, death, or all the things he'd ever said to me about my condition. The first two were inevitable sources of grief and the latter, far from comforting me, only served to remind me of what I'd lost. I had to do more of that, remember him for everything that he had been and not just for the cruelties he'd suffered or for what he'd been to me. Maybe, after I revisited enough of those memories, it wouldn't hurt so much to think of him.
Harry wasn't watching me anymore but a comfortable silence had fallen between us. Slowly, I took a few steps forward and focused on the window and the snow that covered the landscape beyond it. It was a sad connection we shared – having lost someone we cared for very deeply – but it was a connection and I found some comfort in it. We didn't have to talk about him or express much of what we were feeling, it was enough to simply stand here together, separate in our grief but not alone. Not alone.
I suppressed a sigh. Tomorrow I'd have to go back to my undercover assignment, back to doubting how different I was from the werewolves that so easily followed Voldemort, and back to wishing that my best friend was still alive to talk to and to listen. Though nothing had really changed, though troubles still hung heavy on my mind, at least for the moment, things didn't seem so terrible. It wasn't much but it was enough.
THE END