3
I make my way home, where there is tea and solitude and aching so deep my hands shake so I drip the tea everywhere I go.
None of this matters. None of this matters because I am standing in front of the wardrobe staring blankly wondering what to do with his clothing. From somewhere miles away I can see a hand reaching out and loving, timidly touching the arm of his leather jacket. Then it is my hand that flinches back, and it is my other hand smashing the tea cup into the wall, and then such clarity of crystalline pain ripping through me that I turn and leave the house, stopping only when I am out the door to breathe deeply and reset the wards.
I walk blindly through the streets, so I am relieved when I discover I have been walking toward the leaky cauldron the whole time. Sirius…he… insisted that we be disconnected from the flue network when we moved into the flat. He said he worried for my safety when he was out on missions. That sounds utterly mad now. How can I reconcile that against the deaths and betrayal of our closest friends? These are the thoughts that leave me awake and dry heaving through the nights…I can not reconcile the man I knew with the things he has done. They are like pieces from two different puzzles that can not be shoved together no matter how hard you try, but none the less I find myself, day after day working desperately to force them together into one cohesive picture.
When I enter the Leaky Cauldron, old toothless Tom merciful, silently nods his head toward the flue allowing me to escape the joyful crowd without attracting attention. Spinning and overly aware that there is nothing but tea and bile in my stomach I land gracelessly in the Hogshead Inn. Here it is quiet, only the muffled whispers of it's less than reputable customers meet my ears. Another silent nod from a barman and I am out the door and walking through the gloom and mist toward Hogwarts. The memories along this path assault me.
James breezing down the road as if the very air we breathed belonged to him, Peter bouncing on the balls of his feet, scampering forward and then falling back in a struggle to keep up, glancing at each of us as though he still can't believe his luck…and Sirius…laughing and tossing his hair, grin unbreakable, eye's cast over his shoulder sparkling mischievously with a secret that only I can read.
Then, those rare times we had managed to slip away unnoticed, by ourselves, his hand cold and dry in mine pulling me up the path in great leaping bounds through the snow, rushing to get back before curfew. Both of us floating along on the joy of being young and wild in the first blush love, we ran together under the thin sickle of the moon.
The memories snap away and I find myself retching up my tea on the side of the road, it like the joy of youth is gone and leaves me feeling hollow with a bad taste in my mouth.
I stand and walk, lurching like an inferi, through the gate. Minerva is waiting as I reach the great oaken doors.
"Remus?" it comes out as a question, and for just a moment I wonder who she is talking to.
"Minerva." I answer, trying to offer her a friendly smile. She returns it with her rarest of gentle looks that makes me wonder if she is going to offer me a biscuit.
"Aberforth sent word that you were on your way. Albus will be returning within the hour. Is everything alright?" The way she asks reminds me that it has been only two weeks since the war ended, that people are still dying and Deatheaters are still roaming free.
"Uh…I…well, yes? It's more of a personal matter I need the headmasters help with."
She nods, "Come let's have a cup of tea and get warm while you wait for him." And then, she does offer me that biscuit.
Her kindness is awkward, and somewhat unfamiliar, but she speaks gently to me of meaningless things. The Quiddich Cup, coming exams, and amusing stories of career counseling and for a moment I can almost forget.
After a while she escorts me the headmaster's office, leaving me with his password and a kind hand on my shoulder. As I make my way up the moving staircase I feel as though I were a frightened 11 year old boy again, wondering if I would in fact be given passage into the world of humans. The office door swings open before I can raise my hand to knock.
