This is written as a number of on going Journal entries of Remus J. Lupin. Please feel free to comment and review. I look forward to your opinion of my portrayal of his thoughts. I found this story 3 years after I originally posted it…Now the story continues…
I do not own any of J.K Rowlings Char.
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Entry Two
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Dear Journal:
This house is so quiet, more so that normal. Not that I can even tell what normal is anyway. No laughing or shouting. I find my self almost hoping for Severus to show up and rant. I just need something here to keep my mind off everything.
I'm in Hell here. More than I ever was before. Even when he was …there…He was still alive, and I knew in my heart I could feel him. Not anymore. This whole place is nothing but a ice box. It's not that it's cold by temperature, just seems that way to me. Like the ice is in my bones. I can't warm up.
Maybe what Sirius said when he got out of prison…maybe that would explain it all. For the first year at least after he escaped. He had to have 6 or more quilts on the bed, and hot showers that I could boil and egg in. I told him he was crazy, until he explained it to me.
He told me that his life had been so empty, alone and with out hope the very warmth in his body had dwindled and left. He told me one night that he wondered if he could ever be warm again. I promised I'd always keep him warm and I would always be there to keep the cold at bay.
Funny, Now I'm cold, and I'm alone. Only, there isn't anyone here. When Harry left to go back he hugged me and thanked me. It would have meant more if it hadn't been so hollow and empty sounding. I can't judge him for it, I know I sound the same - Hell we both feel the same.
I'm going to go get another blanket, I'll write again soon,
Faithfully
Remus J. Lupin
P.S. Will I ever be warm again?
