Hold me tight,
Just for tonight
For the sun is setting
And the moon is beginning.
--
Cut My Puppet Strings
--
"Remus, are you here?"
She pressed her fingers against his palm, smiled up at his face, and he reached up with some great, utterly miserable pain in his eyes as he brushed her short, pink hair back from her sweating forehead to kiss her cool skin. A soft hum echoed in his ears, the hum of an explosion's aftermath on the hospital's magic, but he didn't notice it anymore as her fingers curled between his stiff, calloused ones, her sightless eyes staring up at his chin.
"Oh, Remus," she murmured, clutching his hand as her eyes moved to the bedside table and the empty bottles of potions, "look."
"I'm looking," he answered.
His voice felt so small, so hoarse and strangled, that he was glad that Arthur and Bill Weasley had opted to stand outside the drawn curtains around the hospital bed. It had been a harsh day, but then again it was always like that now. Every day had become a harsh day since Harry had been lost.
"The children… Oh, look, here comes like Daniel. He's grown up so much, Remus."
They had been planning to name their first child Daniel or Danielle when the war was over. Remus bit his lip and eased his body up onto the bed to lie hugging her, his Nymphadora, so that she didn't have to waste strength lifting her hand up to be in his. She smiled through her missing teeth, her cracked smile, and her eyes wandered the ceiling, seeing something kinder in the impressionable white.
"Hey, remember that time we went to the beach in America and Daniel found that sand dollar?"
With an effort, he kept his voice quiet, calm, didn't let become hysterical and begging. "Of course I do," he lied for he couldn't remember a time that had never been.
"He was so thrilled. He's such a precious little boy, don't you think?"
"More precious than anything except for you."
Storms raged outside, rain splattering the window at the end of the ward, but he did not hear it. A voice called out in pain, someone withered and shrieked, but Remus was as deaf as his dying wife wasto the rest of the world.
"Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly, her eyes further clouding and her hands clenching in distress. "I can't see! It's so dark…"
"Shush," he said in a hoarse voice that wasn't at all seductive. "I've just blindfolded you. We're just going to play a game."
Nymphadora giggled, but her voice was becoming faint as well. "You're so shameless, Remus," she said before coughing, a sticky substance not unsimiliar to half-melted rubber pooling out the side of her mouth so that he had to turn her head to the side to prevent her from choking. "In public?"
He kissed her up-turned cheekand felt her breathing going very shallow. "Yes… unless you're too tired. Then I'll carry you back home."
"Ah," she said, distantly, "I am very tired. You're so thoughtful… Remus…"
And then her breathing stilled, her heartbeat against his chest ceased, and her eyes were hazy, half-open things. He lay there for a perhaps ten or twelve minutes, holding her body which had already begun to go cold, not reacting, not speaking, barely blinking.
It had only been when Bill had come in from the other side of the curtain that Remus had sat up, reaching a hand up to close her eyes and realizing her hair and features had returned to their natural state. Somehow, this was so offensive to him—more offensive than her still, lifeless body was even—that Remus almost drew his wand out to transfigure her hair back to her loved bubblegum pink because this was not his Nymphadora. But Bill had put his hand on his shoulder, offering council, offering support that the younger man knew Remus was not about to take.
"It was peaceful then?" Arthur asked with his hands deep in his robe pockets.
"Yes." He could tell the calm tone in his voice took the two Weasleys by surprise. "Yes."
"Remus," Arthur began, kindly, "are you alright?"
He stood and smiled, smiled the false, practiced smile he'd used for years until she came along and he had someone to smile for again. He smiled that smile even though he knew that his eyes were filled with pain, with rage, with grief, and that the smile would come across as sinister instead of reassuring as no tears came to wash his emotions away.
"Don't worry about me," he heard himself saying, laughing almost. "I'll be fine soon enough; I always have been."
And then he walked away. From Bill, from Arthur, from the resistance, and, most of all, from her and didn't look back for fear his heart would explode.
--
It's nice to see you, Severus.
Remus? What the hell are you doing here?
Me? Oh, I'm with Greyback.
What? But you're –
He's my sire; I'm his most treasured offspring. There now, don't gawk at me so. Sure, we had a rather nasty misunderstanding in the beginning, but we're working on mending that. He understands as does the Dark Lord. It's very common for a sire and his spawn in werewolf society to try to kill each other until they realize how much the other is worth. You needn't be so surprised what with all your knowledge of the Dark.
But you're Remus. The Potter's—
Hah! They thought me the traitor as did Sirius when I was the one underground and sniffing around like some pet dog, risking my neck for an obviously lost cause. Ah, but such unpleasant conversation should be left for another day, dear Severus. What's the game tonight?
A muggle demonstration, I believe. But why? Isn't Tonks—
She's quite dead, and I'mmore thanready for a nice little romp in the moonlight. Ah, here comes Fenrir. Let's be going. Are you quite well, Severus? You look rather pale.
No, it's just a chill; it will pass. Let's go.
--
Sentomegami
13 September 2005