A.N.: Bumbumbumbum! Ok, sorry about that. I'm on a roll with this story XD And in such short timing as well...Ok, now to answer some reviews.
Amanda: Thank you! I'm happy that you liked my story.
Tears-Of-Love-Tears-Of-Hate: -glomps- Your an awesome editor! Thankies for the advice.
vaporeon: XD Your evil yourself, so don't blame me. Lol. Yeah, I am getting better and better and the cliff hangers and I'm plotting your demise as we speak. Erm, read...or whatever you call this.
P.S.: Just a little extra note, the Alyssa mentioned in the beginning of the story is not Remus' old wife, it is his daughter. She changed her name to that of her mother's for a reason, in which you will find out later on.
Disclaimer: I am so sorry I forgot to put the disclaimer in the last chapter, so I hope this makes up for it. I do not own Harry Potter, or the Marauders, or The Beatles 'We Can Work It Out'.
A Sudden Urge For The Worst To Come
The sky hadn't cleared up last night; it was still in it's drowsy, dreary state even up to that morning, which didn't help clear up the girl's mood. Sitting upon a seat in the Leaky Cauldron was a girl, leaning back in her seat as she read the Daily Prophet with a disgusted look upon her face. Nothing good was going on; more deaths were appearing around the world then ever before. Wasn't the new Minister of Magic going to at least try and do something about that? It wouldn't be all too surprising if he didn't until too late, seeing his fine work at the present...
"Alyssa? Alyssa? 'ello there? Alyssa?" A boy the same age as the young girl in front of him repeatedly said her name, trying fruitlessly to get her attention. "Alyssa? Alyssa?" Great. She was off in her own little world. Again. Do you know how hard it was to get her out of that state? "Alyssa, your book's on fire." he said casually, glancing down at the book in faint amusement.
"What!" She shrieked, dropping the newspaper to look at the book by her side, which she realized too late had no trace of a burn anywhere on it. "You little cretin I'll-"
"It's not my fault you weren't paying attention theoh...what? Fifty times I called your name."He smirked. "But hey, it got your attention didn't it?"
Scowling angrily, she held the book in her protective grasp close to her. "Jesse, you know that you shouldn't be kidding around like that." Alyssa glared. "This book means alot to me, I can't lose it."
"Ok, ok. Sorry about that." He said, his tone only slightly sympathetic as he turned his attention to the discarded newspaper, taking it up to skim the news. "Deaths, deaths...more deaths...oohhh, there's an ad for Muggle junk. Wanna go see if they have anything useful?" Jesse asked with a mischievous grin. He always enjoyed toying with Muggles and wizards that liked them; they were so easy to trick. At least, it was that way for him. Wizards that actually liked Muggles, now that was rich. Seeing how Muggles had treated magic for the past thousand or so years, it was so easy to get along, wasn't it?
The boy easily stood at around 5 feet 10 inches, his dark hair clear out of his face with his eyes matching the same shade. He was never known for being kind unless it was to a girl, of whom he either thought status worthy or just cute enough for him. Just like every other guy in this universe. The only wholesome quality that people said he had was taking care of younger children and his friends, that is, whenever he got around to making some. Alyssa seemed to be the odd objection to that scenario, seeing as both had met in the same orphanage 12 years ago...
"No. I'm not letting you get in trouble with another Ministry person." Alyssa stated, raising an eyebrow at his question. "Remember the last time I had to bail you out at the last second?" Running a hand through her silky blonde hair, she gave him a rather pointed look with her hazel-almond eyes, her expression sour and grim at the same time. She would never get used to Jesse's pranks, or whatever he didIt had no specific name.
"Ah, right. They asked whether you were my wife or not, you know with some people marrying all over the place." He chuckled, looking at her over the newspaper's edge. "That was hilarious, your expression was priceless."
"Shut up." She muttered, narrowing her eyes dangerously. "I know I was shocked and my face was only red because I was running after you. You and your bloody problems. Which, of course, never help my problems at all." In fact, they made her's worse..."Look, can we just lie low? For once? I still need to figure out what I can about-"
"Your daddy?" He asked, dropping the newspaper onto the table and placing his elbows on top, looking at her with a bored gaze. "Look, why not just give up? If he hasn't even contacted you for 12 years, then it's pretty much hopeless. Your old man doesn't want you, and you shouldn't want to see him. And it will forever stay that way. Capiche?" With that he leaned back in his chair again, a casual air about him appearing as if his last comment hadn't been there at all. She felt her stomach lurch; no it wasn't true. What if he couldn't contact her? What if...
What if. For the past 12 years of her life all she could think about was what if. What if he forgot about her? What if he was searching for her? What if he didn't care anymore? What if he just wanted to protect her like he couldn't protect her mom... Alyssa had had it with these questions, just the thought of them making her feel ill. She had to accept the truth, even if it did hurt. If her dad had wanted her back, then he would have come for her a long time ago.
"Stop crying, will you?" He groaned, snapping her out of her daze yet again. "I hate it when you do that."
"I'm not crying." She muttered, realizing that she was indeed crying once she heard her own voice choke back a sob. "..and if I am? You should be used to it by now."
"Well, I'm not. I've heard you cry all night at times, so...it's hard to get used to." He replied, trying his best not to attract attention in the least bit, though her crying didn't help much. "...look, can you just stop? Please?"
Alyssa nodded slowly, biting her lip to stop herself from saying anything. This was Jesse Mariano, bad boy through and through. Why was he sayingplease? "Alright. We might as well get going again whil-"
"No." Jesse stated flatly. "There's no bloody way I am walking today with you crying like that. We stay here for the night. I don't want people on the streets thinking that your crying for..well, whatever reason they can make up one. We stay here."
"But-"
"No buts. I am serious about this. With all the deaths going on right now, we don't need you to get killed...or me for that matter. Thing is that if we go now to...wherever, people will think it suspicious, and we've gotten noticed enough without people seeing you like this. Clear?"
"Ok then." She murmured. "If you say so." 'If I can't manage to sneak out while your asleep.' She added to herself, taking a deep breath before getting up out of her seat, slinging a black bag onto her shoulder as she waited for him to get up. "Why are you acting like this?" She asked under her breath, though loud enough for him to hear, looking to him with a questioning gaze.
"What are you talking about?" He asked, standing up out of his seat as well, brushing off his clothes before nodding upstairs, in while Alyssa took the hint and headed upstairs to their room.
"I mean, your not helpful. Ever. And when you are you usually want something. What is it?" She had reason to think that he was up to something, and being friends with him signified how much she really knew about him.
Jesse shrugged, rummaging through his pockets for the key. "I can't be nice for a brief moment? I don't have to you know, your especially lucky that I listen to you...most of the time. I don't do that for just anyone."
"I can tell." She smiled, pulling out the key from one of her bag's pockets, tapping him on the head with it so that he'd stop his search. "But it makes me wonder as to why you decided to follow me that night..."
"Ow. Don't do that it bloody hurts." He said, snatching the key from her, fidgeting with it for a moment before turning back to her. "You weren't thinking correctly, so I decided that I had to make sure you weren't going to kill yourself. Don't you remember that little thing in the Prophet about going in groups you dunce head?"
"You know I didn't have a choice; once your eighteen you have to leave the orphanage to make room for other kids...I'm surprised you weren't forced to leave before." She replied, looking to the door behind him. "Can we go inside now?"
"Not until you tell me why you really left." He stated simply, leaning against the door so that she couldn't get past.
"I can hex you out of the way you know." She stated, getting very uncomfortable with the topic they were on. "And yes, I would really dare to do that."
"I know you can, but you know just as well that I can hex you back. And we don't want to cause a scene, do we? Just tell me why and I'll let you pass, easy as that." He retorted, a flash of worry coming and going. "Or you can tell me something else if that disturbs you so much."
"Fine. What do you want to know? I just wanna go inside; I'm really tired."
"Tell me about when we first met." He smirked.
She arched an eyebrow, but shifted her weight so that she was leaning against the wall behind her, closing her eyes as she searched her mind for that exact memory, though she couldn't help by wonder why he wanted to hear that story exactly..
8/25/91
Dear Diary,
Today, just like any other day, has been pretty interesting here at the orphanage. I guess. I mean, if you find anything from little kids fighting to finding a few colorful beads under the occasional pillow interesting. I never thought that it would just come to this, or that I'd be here for so long. The weird thing is that I wanted to be here. I know this sounds weird, but that's me for you. Mum always told me that there's the good, and the bad. You have to choose how to see life, and she chose the good. She and Daddy were happy together, and that all changed in one night...I just have one wish about that night; I wish I could have said that I loved her one last time...
But enough about that. I should be thinking of good memories...
Oh, I remember one.Mum was a huge Beatles fan, and she always said that music was the sole ingredient of life. Music helped so many people, and changed so many lives, including hers.
'I want you to remember that the Beatles spoke the truth in their music, ok?' she asked, tapping me on the nose lightly. 'They helped influence some of the greatest bands of all time, plus they were just plain awesome, even if they broke up.'
And up to now I still haven't forgotten it. Daddy hadn't heard much Muggle music, but he liked that band when mum showed him their music. Daddy was the best, he'd always be there for me no matter what. It was great, we were like the Perfect Family. Until that night...
What I wonder is why he gave me up after that. I know Mommy's death made him feel really bad, but was it enough to hate me afterward? I don't know what to think anymore. I just wish he'd come back for me. After all, there's only a limited amount of time I have left here...
With that, Gerleen closed her diary, holding it close to her as she held back a sigh, rocking back and forth as she hummed a tune in her mind. Why had her life turned out like this? She didn't think that her life could get any worse, not unless she made a friend and they died...
But she didn't even have friends here. No one she considered close enough to be a friend, at least. What ever happened to the good and bad side of life? It seemed that the bad was having it's fun taunting her all the while. The good seemed far away, almost gone for good..
"Try to see it my way,
Do I have to keep on talking till I can't go on?
While you see it your way,
Run the risk of knowing that our love may soon be gone."
A voice trailed from outside the bedroom door, quiet yet strong as it sang the song that brought back a flood of memories to Gerleen's mind...
"No, not now." She muttered angrily, smacking the side of her head to make herself stop thinking about it. "I can't be doing this."
"We can work it out,
We can work it out.
Think of what you're saying.
You can get it wrong and still you think that it's alright."
Who was that? That voice sounded so familiar...yet something in the way they sang it told her that she never knew someone like this. "Hello?" She called out, sitting up as she tilted her head, trying to catch a glimpse of the person through the crack in the door. "Who's there?"
The person didn't seem to notice her voice, or the other distant sounds of kids playing around, laughing and having fun, ignorant of the two kids away from the group that were both enraptured by a single song that traveled down the hallway, disappearing once the shouts drowned it out.
"Think of what I'm saying, we can work it out
and get it straight, or say good night.
We can work it out,
We can work it out."
She slowly stood up, grimacing when she heard the bed creak as her weight was lifted off it. Looking up to the door, she silently hoped that she hadn't disturbed the person. Her answer came as she heard the person singing from where he left off. She finally realized that it was a boy singing that, judging by the way that his voice could go lower then she could ever get her voice to. 'Use your better judgment Gerleen.' she mentally scolded herself, tiptoeing to the door, jumping as lightly as she could to the floorboards that didn't squeak when walked on.
"Life is very short, and there's no time
For fussing and fighting, my friend.
I have always thought that it's a crime,
So I will ask you once again."
"Oh my gosh, I remember this song." She whispered, smiling at the thought until she realized that her mum sang this to her every night before she fell asleep...
God life was cruel.
"Try to see it my way,
Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong.
While you see it your way
There's a chance that we may fall apart before too long."
Once she got to the door, she opened it up a bit more, just barely enough to see the boy there, not much older then herself, sitting with his back to the wall, his eyes almost glazed over as he stared at the wall in front of him. While he was singing, his expression seemed bored and vaguely interested in the black blob that another kid had created the day before with a crayon. Note to anyone who is planning to have kids; never let them have easy access to a crayon. He didn't register as familiar to her, so he must have been new. When did he get there though?
"We can work it out,
We can work it out.
Life is very short, and there's no time
For fussing and fighting, my friend.
I have always thought that it's a crime,
So I will ask you once again."
The way he sang this song, it reminded her about how heart wrenched she was when she found herself here, alone with nobody to comfort her. Had he gone through something like that too?
"Try to see it my way,
Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong.
While you see it your way
There's a chance that we may fall apart before too long.
We can work it out,
We can work it out."
The song ended, and she had to refrain from bursting out in tears. Why did she have to be so soft? 'I hate myself...' she thought sorrowfully, smiling slightly as she leaned her weight against the doorframe.
There was just so much meaning in that song to her, even if it didn't seem possible to others. Why was she still so attached to something that caused her so much pain?
