After a week of sobbing and sleeping and throwing up his insides within the house in Pixie Grove, Remus forced himself out of bed and down to Godric's Hollow for James and Lily's funeral.
Thousands of witches and wizards were in attendance, lined up for what seemed like miles outside the little graveyard where the Potters were to be laid to rest. It was drizzling out, cold November rain just a degree above freezing; the crowd was filled with conjured black umbrellas, but Remus let the rain fall around him, wetting his hair and chilling his bones.
He'd assumed that the funeral would have added to his sadness, but he found himself feeling strangely angered by it all instead. The man performing the service, speaking solemnly over James and Lily's brand-new gravestone, had never met either of them, nor had the vast majority of the people in the crowd. Most of them were crying, their sobs jarring to his moon-sharpened ears—why were they crying over people they didn't know? Their grief was nothing like Remus's, and yet his own cheeks were dry except for the cold sting of the raindrops. What gave them the right to be here when James and Lily's real friends, all of them but Remus, could not? Hardly anyone from the Order had been able to make it; so many of them had been killed in the last months of the war, or tortured to the point of insanity like the Longbottoms. Last Remus had heard of them, Frank and Alice had been placed in a long-term treatment ward in St Mungo's, their chances for recovery deemed slim to none. It was possibly a fate worse than death, Remus thought—a worse fate even than his own.
The service came to an end, with Remus having spent its entirety lost within his own thoughts, and finally the crowd began to disperse. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a woman tentatively approaching the graveyard against the flow, wringing her hands nervously. She didn't look like a witch—her rain boots and overcoat were particularly prim and simple, and she didn't seem to have a wand on hand. She turned her face slightly towards Remus, and he sensed himself taking an involuntary step back: something in the woman's pale eyes and the curve of her nose reminded him distinctly of Lily. He'd never seen her before, but he knew at once that she was Lily's Muggle sister Petunia. Taking in a sharp breath, he moved to speak with her, but before he could reach her Petunia had ducked away back into the retreating crowd, fleeing the Hollow and its memories; Remus didn't have the heart to chase after her.
"That was a lovely service," said a voice from over his shoulder. Remus turned around to find Dumbledore peering down at him.
"It was," he replied, though he hadn't heard a word of it. "I—I'm glad you came, sir. James and Lily…they would have appreciated it."
Dumbledore gave a solemn nod. "Of course," he murmured. "Showing up to honor their memory was the least I could do—I only wish that their son was old enough to experience this himself."
Their son…. Remus thought of the Muggle woman running away from the graves. "Professor," he said quietly, lifting his head, "I…I can take care of Harry. I don't think James and Lily would want him growing up with the Dursleys, and I don't think the Dursleys want him growing up with them either. I can—I can raise him."
Dumbledore gave Remus a small, sympathetic frown. "I have a very good reason for placing Harry with his aunt and uncle, I'm afraid," he said. "I know you mean well, and your friends would thank you for it, but I don't believe you're in the best state of mind to be raising a child right now, Remus." His frown deepened. "And, of course, your…condition would make things quite a bit more complicated in that regard."
Remus felt himself shrinking down into his coat at Dumbledore's words. He was right, of course: Remus couldn't raise a child, not when he could barely take care of himself. He had no income, no job prospects, and soon enough he would lose his home now that James and Sirius were no longer around to pay for it. Not to mention the fact that he turned into a bloodthirsty monster once a month…how could he even dream of putting Harry in danger like that, even for a second?
"Of course," he said, wishing he could melt into the grass with the rain. "I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."
"You were thinking you could help the son of your best friends," Dumbledore answered, reaching forward to squeeze Remus's shoulder. "There's nothing you need to apologize for. I wish you well, Remus. I truly hope that you are able to find happiness some day."
Remus nodded, squeezing shut his eyes as Dumbledore walked away. He wasn't going to find happiness, and he was sure that the headmaster knew it. After everything that had happened, the deaths and betrayals and broken hearts, Remus thought that he'd be surprised if he felt anything like happiness ever again.
Chapter Management