OMG LAST CHAPTER I CAN'T BELIEVE I MADE IT.

Ok, calm now. Yay, last chapter! I nearly cried again at the end of this chapter - I'm getting too weak-hearted. ;)

The quote is from a poem by one James Whitcomb Riley, called "He is not dead". I got it from a Sirius-wallpaper I found... somewhere. Maybe you'd better google for "Sirius wallpaper". ;)

Enjoy! Last chapter! Wheee!

June/July 1996.

I cannot say, and will not say

That he is dead. He is just away.

Remus left Grimmauld Place the following morning, well before the morning rush hour had even started. It wasn't a flight – it was merely a withdrawal until he had sorted everything out, until he'd got his life back on track. He needed time to think about what had happened last night, and he knew he would not get that when the rest of the Order found out.

Derbyshire was soothingly calm after London. He hadn't been in his home here for months, and it showed – most of the plants had died, the grass in the backyard needed cutting and there was dust everywhere. He immediately got to work, not only because it needed to be done but also because he knew that if he sat down, he'd only think about Sirius' death all day long, and then there'd be no end to the depression. It was better to do something while thinking – that way it wouldn't be the only thing on his mind, he'd remember that he also needed to go on with his life, as painful as it was. It was a tried and true method, he'd done the same after James and Lily had died. He only hoped it would work as well again this time.

News got to him only sparingly – he consciously avoided it, in keeping with his retreat. The outside world didn't interest him at the moment. The only concession he made was when he bought a Sunday Prophet on Saturday, to see if 'it' had made the newspapers.

It had – in a way. Of course there was nothing about Sirius' death, nobody except the Order of the Phoenix and a handful of Death Eaters even knew Sirius Black had been at the Department of Mysteries. Instead, the first ten pages or so of the Sunday Prophet were filled with what Remus had completely missed: Voldemort had shown up at the Ministry of Magic. Better yet: Fudge had seen him with his own eyes, just before he Disapparated, taking a woman – Bellatrix – with him. Fudge could now no longer deny that Harry had been telling the truth, You Know Who really was back. He immediately raised the highest alarm, told the people in the magical world in Britain to be on their guards and promised them that the Ministry would do everything to catch the Dark Lord. In the meantime, they'd send leaflets to everybody with instructions on how to protect themselves.

Remus was glad that Fudge at last admitted he'd been wrong – of only it hadn't taken such a sacrifice… He immediately cut that thought off and began doing something else. If he started moping now and feeling sorry for himself, there'd be no end of it and he'd get nowhere.

After a week of solitude, letters from the Order of the Phoenix started coming in. Clearly they had decided that he was allowed a week of mourning, but he was supposed to come back now.

But he didn't feel ready for it yet. He was glad of the news the letters brought him – especially Minerva McGonagall being back at Hogwarts, the children being fine and Dumbledore being Headmaster again – but he didn't feel up to meeting the writers in person. Not yet so he wrote his parents and, after receiving the asked-for permission, moved back in with them. Again he told himself that this wasn't a flight from anything, but merely a much-needed time-out.

"You do know that's my favourite chair, don't you?" Julia asked.

"Hm-hm," Remus said. It was his favourite chair too – a wooden deckchair made comfortable with a blanket and pillows.

"Well, as long as we got that clear," she muttered slightly sarcastically. He didn't react.

"Anyway," she continued, "it's a good thing you're here now. I'm going to get my hair cut, and now I won't have to bring the children to the neighbours since you can keep an eye on them."

Silence.

"Afterwards, I'm going to my boyfriend – I'm cheating on Romulus," she tried. Remus didn't even look at her. "We sacrifice kittens together," she made up on the spot. Where-ever he is with his thoughts, it's not here, she thought. She knelt down next to him and whispered in his ear: "I love you."

He jumped – although more from the sudden blast of her breath in his ear than from her words. "What?"

"Either you're really selectively deaf, or you're not yourself," she said. "Remus, what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," he said.

"Oh please, like I'm believing that," she said. "You suddenly show up, spend entire days here without saying a word, you're not even listening to what I say, and there's nothing wrong? You have to try better than that."

"If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times," Remus said irritably. "There is nothing, okay? Stop nagging me."

He was so different from Romulus, Julia pondered. With his brother, it was easy. You had to ask it only once: he'd deny there was anything wrong and then he'd blurt it all out anyway. Romulus just couldn't keep it in if something was distressing him. Remus on the other hand was a master at that. If he didn't want to tell you, he wouldn't tell you, no matter what you did.

"Alright, fine," she said. "Then don't tell me. I'll find out anyway."

"Good luck," he said sceptically.

"I'm just going to pretend you meant that in a nice way. Anyway, could you look after the children?"

He looked up at her. "What? Why? Where're you going?"

"I just told you," she said exasperatedly. "I'm going to get my hair cut."

"Oh. Okay."

She waited a few more moments to hear if he had anything more to say, but he hadn't. she shrugged and walked away – suit yourself. She came back a few minutes later with Ralph in her arms. "Listen," she said. "You listening? I'm going now. Could you – " she put the baby unceremoniously in his lap, " – make sure that Ralph eats all of this?" She also handed him a few soft breadcrusts. "He likes them, so I think it won't be much of a problem. Just be sure he doesn't drop them in the sand, picks them up again and eats them."

"Okay," he said, taking the crusts.

"Good." She left.

Remus slowly fed his nephew the crusts, already lost in thoughts again – he didn't even notice that Ralph was crumbling all over his lap.

Why couldn't people just accept it if he didn't want to talk? First the Order, then his mother – he had gone to Romulus go get away from her constant questions – and now his sister-in-law too.

Ralph made soft bubbling noises and blew spit-bubbles. Remus handed him the next breadcrust.

He just needed some time for himself, but nobody seemed willing to give it to him. Sometimes he wished he was living in a desert. Or maybe I should just become one of those philosophers or gurus who live on pillars, he thought. Except that I don't know much about philosophy or religion.

When Julia came back half an hour later, Remus hadn't moved from his chair. She sighed. She liked Remus, she really did, but she thought he was too difficult to deal with. At least with Romulus, it was fairly obvious what was going on in his mind. With Remus, you could only guess.

She walked into the backyard. "I'm back," she announced. "Is everything alright here?"

"We're fine," Remus said. "Ralph has eaten everything."

"Thirza hasn't given any trouble?" Julia asked, looking at her daughter, who was currently making sand-pies in the sand pit.

"No. Silvia has died, though," Remus said, referring to Thirza's maltreated rag-doll, "so she buried her."

"Oh great, then I'll have to wash her again." Yesterday, Thirza, being currently obsessed with burying thing in the sand, had pretended to be at the beach, and she'd covered her doll with sand like her father had done to her the weekend before, when they'd gone to the beach.

"Are you eating here tonight?" Julia asked Remus. He nodded. "Okay. We're eating lasagna, if you're curious."

He wasn't. She went inside, to the kitchen, and had just prepared the tomato sauce when the doorbell rung. She sighed. Only three weeks before they went on vacation, she reminded herself. She didn't know why she looked forward to it – camping with two small children always seemed to be a taste of hell – but the word alone was comforting.

When she opened the door, she saw a young woman with bright pink hair.

"Hello," she said. "I'm Nymphadora Tonks. I'm looking for Remus. Is he here?"

Remus jerked abruptly upright when he saw Tonks. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Nice to see you too," she said coolly. "I've been looking everywhere for you. I was lucky that I met your brother at the Ministry." She looked him up and down. "Well, are you coming with?"

He couldn't think of a good enough reason to refuse, so he handed Ralph to Julia and said goodbye. When they'd got out on the street, they began walking in no particular direction.

"Why were you looking for me?" Remus asked accusingly. "Can't people just leave me alone?"

"Remus, you're gone for two weeks now," Tonks said. "Nobody knew where you were. Our letters didn't come back, but we didn't get an answer either, and when we went to Derbyshire, you were already gone."

"I just needed some time for myself, okay?" he said irritably.

"I can understand that, but cutting yourself off from the rest of the world is going too far!"

"Listen, I just didn't want tot talk to anybody, and I still don't want to!" he snapped.

"Didn't it even occur to you that we might want to talk to you? Remus, you're hardly the only one who lost someone dear when Sirius died, you know!" Her voice had got sharper as she spoke, and she was glaring at him by the end of her sentence. "Do you have any idea what it might have meant to me, to name someone? I too got Sirius back after fourteen years! And I too lost him now! God, Remus, don't you dare claim that you're the only one who has the right to grief! God." She turned away for a moment to wipe her eyes. "Aren't you even thinking of us?"

"Of course I do," he said, coolly.

"Well it sure doesn't seem like it! You spend the last two weeks hiding somewhere, and now I've finally found you, you're all 'oh, woe is me, why can't the world just leave me alone!'" She dramatically put a hand on her forehead. "Come on, Remus, grow a spine."

"See, this is exactly why I avoided you all! You're finally found me, you just burst into my private life, and you immediately begin accusing me!"

"I'm not accusing you, I'm telling you the truth! Really, Remus, we're all very sorry for you, but two weeks of grieving when you were such a level-headed person before…"

"What gives you the right to decide how I cope with my grief?" he shouted.

"What gives you the right to take away our chance to help you by being there for you?" she shouted back.

"You couldn't have helped anyway."

"That's what you think," she said. "And yeah, if you lock yourself up I can imagine that you're not coping too well with your grief."

"Screw it," he said roughly. "I just don't – want – to – talk – to – you. Understood?" He turned around sharply and began walking away.

"No!" she yelled after him. "Stop walking away!"

"Bye, Tonks." He waved over his shoulder at her.

"Get back you stupid, stubborn, thick-headed… thick-headed…"

He turned around. "Yes?" he said sarcastically.

"Thick-headed Sirius!"

They stared at each other, both surprised by what she'd just said.

"What?" Remus said eventually.

"Well, it's true," she said defiantly. "You're just as stubborn as Sirius now. Except he usually didn't run away."

"I'm not running away," he said.

"Oh no? Then what are you doing? Is this a tactical withdrawal or something?"

He opened his mouth to reply sharply, but couldn't think of a good answer. "Um," he said.

"Hm?" She raised one eyebrow just like Snape could. It made him laugh.

"Okay, maybe you're right," he said.

"Of course I am. I'm always right." She raised her chin proudly, then laughed. She practically skipped over to him and took his arm. "Better now?"

"Yes," he admitted.

"Good. Be sure to tell Kingsley how I convinced you to come back though, he didn't believe I could do it."

"How is Kingsley?" he asked.

She sighed. "Well, I suppose that he could be considered fine, but he's had a fair beating. Bellatrix Lestrange got him good, and there's that little problem of him having to find Sirius, which has just got twice as difficult."

Remus could imagine it being difficult for Kingsley. "And the others?" he asked.

"Shaken, of course. It's the first person who died," she said softly. "And most of us weren't in the Order the first time around. It's come fairly unexpected too. And do you know who betrayed Sirius?" she asked, now sounding vicious.

"No, who?"

"Kreacher."

Remus was shocked. "But… he's a house-elf! He can't betray his master, it's impossible."

"Apparently it is if they have two masters. It turns out that apparently Sirius once worded an order very unfortunately when he told Kreacher to get out – so Kreacher got out, out of the house, that is, and went straight to my dear aunt Narcissa, who's married to Lucius Malfoy, as you might know. Narcissa's a Black, so Kreacher could freely tell everything he hadn't been expressly forbidden to tell further, to her. And that's how You-Know-Who found out that the best way to get Harry to the Department of Mysteries was to pretend to have kidnapped Sirius."

"And as an added bonus, they undoubtedly knew that Sirius would come to Harry's rescue," Remus added bitterly. "That would kill two birds with one stone."

"Exactly. The plan didn't work as well as he'd hoped – Harry is still alive, and the prophecy, which the Death Eaters were supposed to take from him and bring to You-Know-Who, has shattered."

"Shattered?" Remus repeated. "The prophecy is gone?"

"Yes. So the mighty weapon has been destroyed, which means no more guard-duty for us!"

"Yeah, but it also means that the prophecy is now forever lost."

"But you and Dumbledore know what it says, don't you?" Tonks asked. "So we know what it's about. What does the exact wording matter, if you know what the meaning is?"

"Very true."

They walked on in silence for a few minutes. Tonks was still holding Remus' arm.

"You know what?" she said. "I missed you, actually."

"You know what?" he answered. "Me too."

"What," she laughed, "you missed yourself?"

He laughed too. "Well, in a way, sort of. But okay, I missed you too."

"Good to know." She fondly pressed his arm.

The next day, Remus packed his suitcase again and moved back into number twelve, Grimmauld Place. He did not go back to his old room, however – there were too many memories of Sirius there. Instead, he now slept in one of the guest rooms. Tonks took over taking care of Buckbeak. Together, they tried to be a sort of replacement-Sirius, often unknowingly imitating his humour, his outspokenness and his uncompromised loyalty.

King's Cross Station was swarming with people on the day the Hogwarts students were expected back. Backpackers and commuters both tried to find their way through the crowd towards the underground. And in the midst of it all were Remus, Tonks, Moody and Arthur, Molly, Fred and George Weasley.

Molly had written to Fred and George in tears after she'd found out that Sirius had died. She couldn't bear the thought that she might die too before she'd forgiven the twins, so she'd decided to forgive them right now. The twins had heartily welcomed it.

Molly prodded her husband. "Can you see them already?"

"Not yet, dear," Arthur repeated what he had said many times before. "It's too early now."

"Nonsense, they can be here any minute," she insisted. She stood on tiptoe trying to see the children before Arthur did – on tiptoe, she came to his shoulder, so this was pretty useless.

Tonks grinned. "It's no use trying to find them in this crowd," she said.

"You know how mothers are," Remus said to her, "they always know it better than you do."

"Oh, do I know it," she replied, laughing.

In this case, though, Molly was right: she did see her children first. "There they are!" she said, hurrying over to them. She embraced Ron and Ginny tightly, then hugged Harry too. Ron, however, was occupied with something completely else: the twin's jackets.

"What are they supposed to be?" he asked, pointing at the jackets.

"Finest dragonskin, little bro'," Fred said proudly. "Business is booming and we thought we'd treat ourselves." Ron didn't seem to be able to believe his ears.

Molly had let go of Harry, and Remus took his chance. "Hello, Harry," he said.

Harry looked at him. "Hi," he said, sounding amazed. "I didn't expect… what are you all doing here?"

"Well," Remus smiled, "we thought we might have a little chat with your aunt and uncle before letting them take you home." It had been Remus' and Tonks' idea, and the entire Order had readily agreed with it.

"I dunno if that's a good idea," said Harry uncertainly.

"Oh, I think it is," Moody cut in. "That'll be them, will it, Potter?" He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb; he had already caught sight of the Dursleys with the help of his magical eye. Harry looked over Moody's shoulder and nodded.

"Ah, Harry." Arthur had just greeted Hermione's parents, and now turned to Remus, Moody and Harry. "Well – shall we do it, then?" he asked.

"Yeah, I reckon so, Arthur," said Moody. He set off towards the Dursleys, the rest of the welcoming group in tow. Hermione even left her parents to follow the others.

The Dursleys looked terribly frightened when they saw the wizards approach. Their welcome wasn't even that scary, Remus thought. Polite, really.

"Good afternoon," Arthur said pleasantly. "You might remember me, my name's Arthur Weasley." Judging by the rapid change of colour in Vernon Dursley's face, he did remember Arthur.

"We thought we'd just have a few words with you about Harry," Arthur continued.

"Yeah," Moody added. "About how he's treated when he's at your place."

This sat not well with Mr Dursley. He stretched himself out a little, trying to look imposing. "I am not aware that it is any of your business what goes on in my house –" he began haughtily.

"I expect what you're not aware of would fill several books, Dursley," growled Moody.

"Anyway, that's not the point," Tonks cut in. "The point is, if we find out you've been horrible to Harry –"

"– And make no mistake, we'll hear about it," Remus added.

"Yes," came Arthur, "even if you won't let Harry use the fellytone –"

"Telephone," Hermione corrected in a whisper.

"– Yeah, if we get any hint that Potter's been mistreated in any way, you'll have us to answer

to," Moody finished.

This was going too far. These loonies seemed to think they could order him, Vernon Dursley. His face turned an even deeper shade of red. "Are you threatening me, sir?" he said loudly.

Moody was not impressed, rather delighted that Vernon had understood them so quickly. "Yes, I am," he said.

"And do I look like the kind of man who can be intimidated?" Mr Dursley continued.

"Well…" said Moody mock-thoughtfully. He pushed back his bowler hat and revealed his magical eye. Vernon Dursley leaped back in shock, colliding with a luggage trolley. Moody grinned. "Yes, I'd have to say you do, Dursley." He decided that Mr Dursley had been intimidated enough, and he turned to Harry. "So, Potter… give us a shout if you need us. If we don't hear from you for three days in a row, we'll send someone along…" Petunia Dursley did not seem to like this promise, but Moody did not care. "Bye, then, Potter," said Moody, and he shook Harry by the shoulder for a moment.

"Take care, Harry," Remus said quietly. "Keep in touch."

"Harry, we'll have you away from there as soon as we can," Molly was next. She hugged him again.

Ron shook Harry's hand. "We'll see you soon, mate."

"Really soon, Harry," Hermione added. We promise.'

Harry nodded and smiled. He seemed lost for words, and Remus could completely understand him. Harry raised his hand and waved, then he turned around and walked out of the station, the Dursleys hurrying after him.

The others left too. The Weasleys went back to the Burrow, Hermione and her parents left for their house, Moody went to the Ministry. Soon, Remus and Tonks were the only ones left.

"What are we going to do now?" Tonks asked Remus. "Ministry? Grimmauld Place? Get a drink in Diagon Alley?"

"The Ministry, I guess," Remus said. "I reckon Kingsley might need help, or else there's always something we can do."

"Yeah, true. There's always work to do." She looked up at him. "Shall we go?"

"Erm, you go ahead, I… have something else to do first."

She eyed him suspiciously. "You're not going to disappear again, are you?"

He smiled. "No, trust me."

"Good. If you are, I'm going to find you again and stick one of those Muggle tracking devices on you so I'll never loose you again."

"I'll keep you to it."

They said goodbye, and Tonks left. Remus stood still for a few more moments in the middle of the station, under the high ceiling. He had lied – he hadn't need to do anything. He just wanted to be alone for a while.

He walked to the exit of the station, to street level. He passed the bookstore, the snackbar, the money exchange office, and saw it all, smiling. When Sirius had just died, it had seemed that he had never been there, that all his memories of him had been a dream, somehow. But now, almost a month later, it was exactly the opposite. Sirius wasn't gone – he was still here. Remus just couldn't see him, but that was alright, he was still aware of him. As he looked around him, he had the feeling that Sirius had taken place inside his head, and he could hear his reaction to everything he saw. He heard his friend's comments about the business men with suitcases walking past, he heard him reminiscing about past holidays when he passed the backpackers eating sandwiches, and he smiled when he almost literally heard Sirius' barking laugh when he saw an amusing advertisement.

He stopped for the traffic light. Yes, he thought hopefully, even though Sirius was gone, and he'd never again be able to talk to him again, he'd still be here, somehow.

The traffic light turned green.

Remus walked on.

I cannot say, and will not say

That he is dead. He is just away.

With a cheery smile, and a wave of the hand,

He has wandered into an unknown land.

And left us dreaming how very fair

It needs must be, since he lingers there.

And you – oh, you, who the wildest yearn

For an old-time step, and the glad return,

Think of him faring on as dear

In the love of There as the love of Here.

Think of him still as the same. I say

He is not dead – he is just away.

FIN