The Quidditch League (Round 7)
Holyhead Harpies - Chaser 1: A Reunion
Prompts: [word] dazzling, [setting] a dormitory, [action] dancing
A.N. TW for implied and off-screen character death
Word count: 2452
in my dreams (we are always together)
When he wakes up, he's in Dumbledore's office (Or is it Snape's now? He isn't completely sure.) His eyes are barely open for a second before he has to shut them again: too much light reflecting off of far too many surfaces in the room.
Groaning, he forces himself into a sitting position, palms spread wide on the floor as he tries to maintain his balance. For a second, he thinks he might fall over, topple down with all the grace and muscle memory of a toddler – but it doesn't happen. Airiness fills his body, a kind of weightlessness he hasn't felt in a long, long time; it's like his scars – all the wounds he's sustained from two wars – are gone. He feels fit and sprightly, like his body has never seen a single injury. It's that which tips him off that something's abnormal, that something's verywrong.
Well, that, and the fact that Dumbledore's office (in his mind, it will never belong to anyone else, though there have been headmasters before and after him) is completely white. White: As in the place has been completely leached of all other colors. His eyes hadn't been wrong to fall shut, the first time he'd opened them: the luminosity is so dazzling, that for a few seconds, all he can do is blink and try to get used to it.
It takes what seems like an eternity, but finally, his eyes do adjust, and – holding onto the edges of his old headmaster's desk – Remus Lupin heaves himself upright, into a standing position. His legs feel wobbly, like they haven't moved around in awhile, but he manages to hold on and keep standing, determined to figure out just what is going on, and what he's landed himself into now.
He doesn't get much of a chance to explore – in fact, he's just about to pick up one of Dumbledore's many whirring trinkets off the desk – when his world, his very thoughts, shudder to a halting stop.
"I did not think I would see you this soon, Remus."
Slowly, he turns around, his mind paralyzed in a state of disbelief. Surely… it can't be her? Though the voice cannot very well belong to anyone else, it simply can't be her. She's been dead for far too long, and unless he's hallucinating… Yes. Yes. He must be. He'll open his eyes now, and she won't be there. She won't be there, because she'll have been a figment of his imagination (at least he desperately hopes so, because the alternative is too painful to even think about).
With a mind full of trepidation and a heart that's beating as fast as an axle on the Hogwarts Express, Remus opens his eyes and feels his reality crumble before him, because there she is: Hope Howell-Lupin, his mother, standing there very much alive, and bestowing upon him a smile so dazzling that it makes his heart ache.
"...Mum?" He croaks out, his voice scratchy with disuse.
"My boy." Her smile somehow widens, and she opens her arms - a clear invitation for a hug.
How long has it been since he's been hugged by his mum? He doesn't want to think about it. Somehow, he resists the temptation of her arms, too. Instead, he asks (more like stutters): "What– how are you… how are you here? How are you alive?"
Mum tilts her head to the side, the way she used to when she told him she'd bought a gigantic bar of chocolate just for him. Her arms fall down, fingers twining before her chest. "Oh, my darling," she sighs. "You've been through so much. Lived too little. I can't tell you how much it grieves me to see you here, though I'm happy to be standing before you again."
"I… don't understand." Remus shakes his head, taking a step forward, toward her. He lets his fingers brush over her hands, as if to confirm she's solid, that she's actually there. "You're dead." He points out, with some finality.
His mum nods. "I am."
"Then what is this?" He cries out, his voice rawer than it has ever been. "Have I finally gone mad?"
"No, Remus." Mum's cadence is tinged with sorrow, and it spears him directly through the heart. All of a sudden, he remembers that her smile hadn't been the only thing dazzling about her: It was her unique quality, to bring someone to a screeching halt with her every emotion - especially with her sadness.
He flounders, desperately trying to regain his footing. "You're dead… but you're here. In Dumbledore's office?" He thinks about it, and realizes another strange detail about this already bizarre situation. "How are you in Dumbledore's office? You don't have magic. You can't be here."
Instead of answering his question, mum looks intrigued. "Is that what you see, then? Your headmaster's office?"
"What I see?" Remus sputters. "What do you mean? What are you seeing?"
She opens her mouth to answer, but then shakes her head, a tad bit sadly. "Oh, that hardly matters now. It is not for me that we are here, but for you."
"Why? Why are we here?"
Mum's eyes, so like his own, well with tears. She looks up at him – looks through him – and suddenly, everything comes rushing back: Voldemort, Hogwarts, the final battle, dueling Dolohov, and that last spell, hitting him square on the chest. And then… darkness.
"I'm dead." Remus realizes. "That's why I can see you." He laughs, slightly hysterical. "I'm dead!"
"Yes, Remus." His mum nods. "I'm so very sorry, my darling."
He looks at her, the realization slowly setting in. "Is this… my afterlife?" He hopes not. Somehow, he'd imagined it… different.
"Not quite," Mum shakes her head. "At least, not yet. You have to go through the door to get there."
"The door?" Remus blinks. He points to the one behind her. "That door?"
"The very one," she confirms. Then, she smiles gently, and blinks her tears away. "I've been sent to lead you there."
"Lead me there? But why would you have to? If it's just a door I have to go through?"
"Well, dear," she begins, carefully. "Some people… shall we say… linger. Their spirits never move on. They feel as though they have unfinished business, and so they stay. That is what I'm here to prevent."
The thought registers in Remus' mind, like a shot ringing in the dead of night. "So I can go back? If I have unfinished business?" He thinks of Harry, and Teddy, and Nymphadora, none of whom he wants to leave behind.
His mother dashes his hopes. "Not like that. Not as you were when you were alive. You would be… incomplete. A mere shadow of who you used to be."
"Like a ghost…" he realizes. "I would be a ghost."
She nods, and, moving forward, cradles his cheeks in her palms. "I know you worry; that you have loved ones you will be leaving behind. But Remus… you have people waiting for you here, too."
His throat clogs up, and as ashamed as he'll feel about it later, his mind is suddenly wiped of all thoughts of Harry, Teddy, and Nymphadora. "James and Lily?" He dares to hope. "Sirius?"
His mum wraps an arm around him, then, and leads him to the door of Dumbledore's office. "Why don't you open that and see?"
The dormitory shimmers before his very eyes, fading in and out of view as though a mirage.
Maybe it's because this is the first time he's seeing it in close to two decades, but everything about it seems unreal. The four-poster beds, the red-and-gold theming, the window that let one look out over the Black Lake… Everything about it is nostalgic, and – all at once – permeating memories that Remus hasn't let himself think of since that fateful October night.
He can't help but look around and drink all the sights in. Everything looks just as it used to: the clusters of parchment littering Sirius' desk, speaking of the litany of assignments he always left until the last minute; the tallies scratched on the posters of James' bed, from when he was counting down the days until Yule break in fourth year; and even the suspicious char on the floor that was barely being covered by the rug (that may or may not have been caused by a failed attempt at making Veritaserum in second year). Logically, Remus knows that none of this should be here anymore, that the dorm was cleaned out a long time ago - but there is nothing logical about the situation he's found himself in now.
He's dead, and while that makes him feel all sorts of ways, thoughts of seeing his long gone friends have permeated his mind like a fever dream. Hearing Sirius' barking laughter again, seeing Lily's dazzling smile, and – oh gods – James…
Remus had never believed in any sort of afterlife before. He can't say that he never thought of it, but the very idea that you can one day reunite with the ones you love – the ones you've lost – had always seemed spectacularly wishful to him. It seems incredible that he has that chance now, as someone who'd suffered from terrible luck in their life, but he's determined not to waste it – determined to seek his friends out as soon as he can.
Luckily for him – and he seems to be having a lot of that lately – he doesn't have to look for long. Actually, he doesn't have to look at all, because mere seconds have passed after he stiffened his resolve, when the door to the dormitory opens, admitting the very people he never thought he would ever see again.
Sirius' crowing voice is the first thing he hears. "I told you it would be there!" He brags. "Didn't I say I know this place better than anyone else?"
"Oh, just because you knew where the bloody radio was!"
'James…' Tears gather in Remus' eyes as the two stomp in, hauling an old-fashioned seventies radio in with them. A little louder, he calls out, "Prongs? Padfoot?"
His messy-haired, bespectacled best friend whirls around in surprise, making Remus' heart – once again – pang with emotions so intense he's afraid to name them. He looks so much like Harry – or rather, Harry looks so much like him – that it hurts.
"Moony?" James blurts out, stepping forward. "That you?"
"No, it's the bloody giant squid." Sirius snarks from behind him, but it's clearly light-hearted – he's smiling. "Hey, Moony." He calls out. "Didn't expect to see you here."
"Yeah, what are you doing here?" James inquires, though the beginning of a smile is surfacing on his lips.
"What? No hug for me?" Remus laughs, his voice shamefully choked up.
"No hug?" The black-haired Gryffindor echoes. "Of course you get a hug. Get over here, you bloody bastard."
And Remus falls into his arms, forgetting all sense of dignity as he breaks out into ugly sobs and hiccups.
"Aw, Moony," James laughs. "One would think you missed me."
"Missed you?" Remus coughs out. "Of course I missed you, you moron. Going and dying, like you did…"
That does a remarkable job of sobering his friend up, James looking down at him with not a little sadness. "Remy… I…" He doesn't seem to know what to say.
"I know." Remus interrupts him roughly. "I know." And then, to change the subject, he asks, "Where's Lily?"
"Getting food from the kitchens," Sirius interjects. He smiles slyly. "She'll be pissed she missed you."
"She won't miss me." Remus says firmly. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Yeah…" James nods, looking at him softly. "You aren't, are you?"
There's silence for a moment as the Marauders all stare at each other, drinking the sight of one another in. It seems like ages had passed since they were all in the same room together, and the idea that this is forever? That they'll never lose each other again? Well, it was a balm to the soul that none of them particularly wanted to admit. Remus was about to say something, try to lighten the mood, when all of a sudden, ABBA's "Dancing Queen" started blaring from the radio in Sirius' arms.
"What the hell, Padfoot?" James is all complaints, having been startled by the sudden noise.
Sirius shrugs. "It was getting too sad in here." Then, he grins, "So… anyone up for–"
"No!" James interjects loudly.
The dog animagus pouts. "You don't even know what I was gonna say!"
"You were gonna say we should have a dance party."
Sirius crosses his arms in front of his chest. "And what's wrong with having dance parties?"
James scowls. "Nothing's wrong with dance parties. Everything's wrong with your dance parties."
"But Prongs–!"
Sirius is about to start whining, when Remus interrupts him. "I wouldn't mind a dance party."
The shaggy-haired Gryffindor brightens up. "Atta lad, Moony!" He cheers.
Taking Remus' arm, he pulls him away from James and turns the radio's volume up. "Dancing Queen" is almost over, but Sirius starts howling along with the lyrics nonetheless, making the two other Marauders wince.
"Padfoot…" James grimaces.
But Sirius only starts singing louder, and shoving Remus to and fro, from the beds to the window, in his own version of a funky dance.
He's doing the worm when James sighs in exasperation and shoves him to the side. In his most officious voice, he says, "You call that dancing, Padfoot? Let the master show you how it's done."
And then, just as another ABBA song starts playing, he grabs Remus' arm and starts leading him in what can only be called a bastardized tango.
Startled, the werewolf can only laugh. "Where'd you learn how to tango?"
James winks at him. "I didn't." And twirls him around, away from him.
"That's not a tango!" Sirius calls out, complaining. "It's a waltz."
"Who cares?" The Potter retorts, swiveling his hips. "I thought you wanted a dance party!"
Sirius pouts, and looks like he might continue doing so, when his eyes connect with Remus'. A smile forms on his lips, then, and suddenly, Remus feels like everything will be alright. That with him, James, and Lily (when he sees her eventually) by his side, he can face the entire world if he must.
He's dead, yes, and he's sorry to leave Harry, Teddy, and Nymphadora behind, but he knows they'll be alright. They have each other, their friends, and the rest of their family. Remus knows he's leaving them in good hands. His family, however, the people he grew up with and had hoped to grow old with together, are right here. And he'll never bear being separated from them again.