6

This time the walk through Hogsmead is not quiet so painful, or at the very least, it doesn't force me to leave this mornings tea on the side of the road.

The snow is falling in great flakes and clumps that cling to my cloak, and I realize suddenly that it is almost Christmas. Time, it appears, has passed me by. Fairy lights and ropes of garland now seem to create a wall between me, and the people bustling through the streets.

"Remus!" I hear a gravelly joyous voice calling.

I turn to see Hagrid rushing toward me, absently knocking people aside with his bulk. He is grinning broadly and seems to have tinsel and pine needle stuck in his wooly beard.

"Hello Hagrid."

"Remus, good ter see ya! Are ye coming up fer tha' Christmas feast then?" he asks, patting me on my shoulder and nearly knocking me to my knees.

"Well…" My god, it isn't just almost Christmas…It is Christmas and I've been too lost in my own suffering to notice.

"Come on then, we'll be late, and Dumbledore'll be missin' this." He winks and holds up a small cask that had been engulfed in one of his enormous hands."

Hagrid is pleasant and chatty as we make out way up to the castle and thankfully he does not seem to notice how jarred I am by his chipper mood. I find however, that for the first time in a while I can at least smile and nod in the appropriate places.

The feast it self is not too hateful, Minerva is red cheeked and giggling at Albus' jokes as he twinkles at her over his brandy. Flitwick seems to have drunk a bit too much and keeps falling over the back of his chair as he laughs and wildly reinacts scenes from his dueling days. The few students who have stayed over the holiday seem slightly perturbed when they notice their elders' lighthearted and well pickled cheer, but still whisper behind their hands and laugh.

Some how sitting here, it doesn't seem to hurt so much remember myself in those students place. My friends gathered around me and the struggles of homework a week from being critical. For a brief time I let myself forget that I came here with a purpose and just enjoy the moment.

Later though, in Dumbledore's office, I must face the reasons that brought me here.

"Headmaster…"

"Please, call me Albus. I haven't been your headmaster for several years." He smiles.

"Albus then, I …I need to speak with Sirius." He simply stares at me so I go on. "I know I am not likely to get answers that satisfy me…but I cannot go on this way. I, just…did you know I had no idea today was Christmas? I had no idea until I met Hagrid in Hogsmead. I've been so stuck in that moment of his betrayal that I rarely know what day it is. I must face him, or I don't think I'll ever be able to get on with my life." It came pouring out of me in a rush, and when I finally looked up to meet Dumbledore's eyes he was gazing at me with a thoughtful look on his face, his fingers tangled in his beard and wrapped around his chin. For a long moment, we just looked at each other like that, and then I then let my occlumency shields drop, knowing finally I am already broken and to admit it could break me no further. Yes, I was afraid, but Albus is a skilled and gentle legilimens and I could only just feel the edges of the memories of these last two terrible months rise to the surface before he released them and let them sink back into the recesses of my mind. It seemed like hours that we sat silent like that, till finally he closed his eyes, sighed and nodded.

"Stay here in the castle tonight. We must move swiftly, your timing is good at least. Much of the ministry is distracted and stretched thin as this is the first holiday since the war ended. We should be able to quietly arrange a visit tomorrow or the day following."

Letting out a breath I didn't realize I was holding I replied "Thank you, Sir."

"Remus," he said, gently and somewhat sadly, "We will do this, but there is no way to know what he might say to you. Are you so sure that you would not rather live with the memories you have?"

"Headmaster…Albus, I can't live with those memories anymore…it's like living with the ghost of a lie. I need to face the truth of him, or… well I just must face the truth of him. I have no other options." He nodded understandingly and rang for a house elf to show me to a guest room.

As I lay in a dark and unfamiliar room, I wonder if I am insane and how I have fallen so far. For surely there can be no explanations for this. No excuses can heal a betrayal of this magnitude. What he's done is what he's done; and it is not something that can be forgiven, or fixed. So what is it I am seeking? Would there be some solace in hearing him admit the pain and tragedy he bestowed upon that little family I am so missing? Will I be relieved to have him tell me that those years and moments were all lies? Can any healing come at all of this? Is there anything left here to heal?

Morning comes on me suddenly; I don't feel that I have slept at all. Yet I must have, because it was dark and then my eyes were opening and the first rays of sunrise were stealing through the windows. Showing great mercy, it seems that Dumbledore had arranged for the house elves to serve me breakfast in my room. But I cannot eat; I keep bringing things such as toast and bits of tomatoes to my mouth, before I stare at them and set them down again. Tea is good though, I drink cup after cup of it and feel my stomach contract around it.

Part of me says I should get up and walk quietly out of the castle before Dumbledore comes to find me; that I should simply walk away and fade into the oblivion of my guilt and grief rather than face him. However before I can listen too carefully to that voice Albus is knocking on my door and it is time to go.

We go by port key to a cold and bitter dock where we must sign in and hand over our wands before we are ushered onto a small dilapidated boat that feels as though it will shatter with each coming wave. Albus speaks in whispers to the ferryman and I find myself wondering what favors he has called in to get us here, but then there is a small barren island of rock with Azkaban's cold grey tower rising up on the horizon and then I think no more.