I really deserve some serious hate mail
I'm sorry i havent written anything in like ten billion years
and my terrible cliff hanger even made me wonder what the hell i was going to write next
trish has to give me a moral and writing boost
Enjoy:)


When Sirius Black did not show up to his post a search began for him, dead or alive. As the days blurred into weeks and the weeks trickled into months, people began to wonder whether the Black family heir was really dead, missing or had fled from the war like countless other cowards.
Few remained loyal to the theory that Sirius had indeed been murdered or taken hostage. But no ransom notes or bodies had turned up and winter was nearing with the promise of frost and rain.
The search would have to be cancelled. The Light Side was losing lives rapidly; deaths from winter frost would be useless. One man remained steadfast throughout the entire search, Remus Lupin.
Most people commented on the poor mans loss and his capacity for such loyalty.

What most people didn't know was that Remus Lupin's loyalty lay elsewhere and that the weight of his best friend's death was on his shoulders. What most people didn't know was that Remus Lupin knew places to hide rotting bodies that nobody else knew about. What most people didn't know was that Remus Lupin had long ago lost his capacity for guilt and regret.
Sanity is a fickle thing.


He ran his hands over the bandage covering his eyes, tracing it all the way to the back of his head then over his eyes and nose.
"Don't do that Ron, it'll only slow the healing process down" a familiar feminine voice explained.
"Who are you!" yelled Ron, reaching for the wand which wasn't there out of habit. He began clawing at the bandages stopping him from seeing.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you" another voice, a male voice said.
"What do you know, filthy half-breed pigs!" Ron spat out. He heard a sharp intake of breath and what sounded like a muffled sob.
The thick silence covered the room like a shroud until the awkwardness became unbearable and Ron opened his mouth to speak.
"A madman thought up using a maceinthe battlefieldand hit you in the back of your head. It punctured through your skull and we thought you would die from blood loss"
"It was terrible there was blood everywhere, we were all so worried for you..."
"Who are you people?" Ron demanded barring his teeth.
"Don't you remember sweetie?"
Distant memories flashed in Ron's mind but it was as if he was watching a very old roll of film and the pictures were hazy and blurred.
"Don't call me that wench!" he yelled back angrily as unwanted tears flowed from his eyes dampening his bandage.
He didn't understand why he was crying, he hadn't cried for months.
Tears show weakness...Death Eaters are not weak...
"I'm your mother, Ron" Mrs. Weasley said sobbing into her handkerchief.
"My mothers dead! She didn't come for me when she should have! She abandoned me! I hate her!" Ron bellowed as Mrs. Weasley walked up to her son and gingerly hugged him to her chest, "I hate you!"
"I'm so sorry Ron!"
"I hate you! You weren't there when they attacked Hogwarts! You weren't there when they branded me! You weren't there when Ginny got raped! It's your entire fault! Ginny where is she?" Ron screamed hysterically shoving himself off the bed attempting to use the legs he hadn't used for weeks due to his injury.
"Ginny! I should have protected her! It's my entire fault" he yelled as he was helped off the cheap linoleum floor by Harry.
"Thank you Harry" said Mrs. Weasley.
"Harry? That Potter brat!" Ron said clawing his hands at the air.
"What happened to you Ron?"
Ron turned his head towards Harry's voice.
"I went to hell and back"


Ginny glared at the small bump on her normally anorexic thin stomach. She didn't like the idea of nurturing Voldemort's child, the mere thought sickened her. She remembered her great aunt telling her once that she lost a child when she fell down a flight of stairs. The young redhead glanced at the flight of marble stairs.

Pulling her skirts down she sauntered out of her bedroom slamming the door behind her. The baby can wait she had more pressing matters to attend to...