Epilogue – How Can I Keep From Singing?
No storm can shake my inmost calm
Whilst to this rock I'm clinging;
Since love is lord of heaven and earth
How can I keep from singing?
"How Can I Keep From Singing?", Welsh Folksong ~
Author's Note: OK, this really is the end….*Sobs*. I know that this epilogue is sad, but as I planned for my story to be canonical, it kind of had to be done….But I hope that you can see past the sadness to the bittersweet beauty of it and hopefully still view it as a satisfying and rounded-off ending to this story. And FINALLY, thank-you SO much to everyone who has reviewed this story and added it to their favourites and alerts – you guys are awesome and make me smile:-) Don't forget to leave a review at the end!
Disclaimer: I do not own Teddy, Lupin or Tonks. I am merely borrowing them for a while…
Teddy's POV
On my seventeenth birthday, my grandmother gave me a letter, which was written in a handwriting that I did not recognise. It was a large quirky handwriting which slanted backwards; a handwriting which had character and made you wonder about the personality behind it. Well I did not have to wonder for long, for my grandmother told me that it was a letter from my mother. This surprised me to say the least, because I had never known my mother, or my father for that matter. They had both died when I was only a few months old in the legendary Battle of Hogwarts. They died heroes, so I was told, killed whilst fighting valiantly to defeat the Dark Wizard Voldemort, the darkest wizard to ever walk this earth.
When I said that I have never known my parents, it was not entirely true. I suppose I have known them vicariously through the stories and memories of other people, such as my grandmother, Andromeda Tonks, and my godfather, Harry Potter. Yes, you read that right. The Harry Potter. Yup, he's my godfather, and a more awesome one I couldn't ask for. But I have no actual memories of my own regarding my parents. I can't remember the sound of their voices for instance or what they look like. Of course I've seen photographs of them, but it's just not the same. They've always felt…distant somehow, like someone else's relatives, but not mine. And so you can imagine my surprise and my excitement when on my seventeenth birthday, I got a present from them. Oh, did I forget to mention that there was a present? Don't think I would get this excited over a mere letter (OK, maybe I would, but that's not the point). No, with the letter came a parcel. It was not very excitingly wrapped to say the least – in fact, the wrappings were rather hurriedly done by the looks of it and did not have the appearance of having been done by someone who was particularly skilled in the art department. But hey, I'm not complaining. This is a present from my parents we're talking about here; my parents who have been dead for almost seventeen years.
My fingers were simply itching to open the parcel and see what it was, what my parents could possibly have left me that could only be opened on my seventeenth birthday, but being a well brought up young wizard (cough, grandma watching, cough), I opened the letter first. I had to read it several times before the meaning of it could really sink in, but I have faithfully reproduced it here for you. You should only have to read it once. However, if you really want to get the real effect, don't read on until you have read it at least ten times. I kid you not. Anyway, here it is:
My dearest Teddy,
I am not much of a letter writer, but something within me urges me to write this to you. I do not believe in premonitions, but even so, in these times one can never be sure and there is no knowing what may happen at Hogwarts tonight.
Yes, tonight there is going to be a battle to end all battles against Voldemort and his Death Eaters at Hogwarts, and Teddy….oh, Teddy, I can't promise to you that either your father or I will survive. I am not actually supposed to be going; I am supposed to be staying with my mother like a good little housewitch, but when was I ever good?! Don't answer that.
The truth is I can't just sit here and wait for news of your father, Teddy. I CAN'T. And I won't. Yes, Teddy, if you grow up pig-headed, you know where you got it from…Although your father can be pretty stubborn too when he chooses.
But I digress. My dear, beloved, precious son, I hate the thought that like Harry, you might grow up never knowing your parents and what they were like (although some things you may wish you didn't know!) and how much they loved you….For we do love you so, so very much Teddy.
And so I have written down our story for you – the story of your father and me, and of you, my dear boy. Of our love for each other and for you. I hope that you will never have to read it, that we will be here to tell it to you in person instead, but if for some reason we are not…Then my instructions to your grandmother (who also loves you very much) are to give it to you when the time is right, and I trust that through it you will discover that you have not lost us completely; that whilst we may be gone in body, our essence is here in this story and that through reading it, you may get to know the parents you never knew in person and know how very, very much they loved each other and you. That is my hope.
It is getting late now and I must leave….But before I end off this letter (something that is strangely hard to do), I want to remind you again that I love you so, so, so much Teddy Remus Lupin and so does your father, who is truly the best man I have ever known or ever will know. We love you. Don't ever forget it
Mom
By the time I had read this through ten times, the paper was creased and crumpled and had sweaty fingerprints on the edges where I had been holding it tightly, as if afraid it would suddenly vanish from my hands in a puff of smoke (never a bad guess in the wizarding world). However, it most assuredly did not vanish and stayed comfortingly solid in my shaking hands, although steadily becoming less so with every re-reading of it. I traced my fingers over my Mom's name, marvelling at the curve of the 'M's and the squashed shape of the 'O'. Each stroke of the pen was a part of her, had been written by her, my mother, in some long distant past. My eyes suddenly blurred and as I reached up to rub them, I felt a warm wetness on my cheeks which I hastily brushed away in embarrassment, ducking my head so that my grandmother couldn't see my face. I looked at the parcel which sat on the table beside me, looking so innocent and yet heavy with implications and meaning. I knew what it was now, and I wanted to be alone when I opened it and read my mother's gift to me. I think my grandmother understood this, because as I sat there hesitating, she patted me on the shoulder briefly and saying something about needing to go upstairs and do some knitting or some such thing, she left me alone.
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After she left the room, I waited for a little bit longer before pulling at the string on the brown package and gently, almost with reverence, removing the paper. Inside was a manuscript, consisting of several pages of faintly yellowed parchment tied carefully together. The parchment was covered with the same handwriting that the letter was written in. Taking a deep breath, I started to read:
It's funny how life works sometimes. How sometimes the one thing you think you don't need turns out to be the very thing that completes you…..
And for two hours, I read solidly without getting up, without moving except to turn the pages. I read until my eyes were sore and I had reached the last words:
…..as the camera flashed, I grinned exhaustedly back up at him, feeling deep in my heart that life truly could not get any better than this.
Stuck to the last page beneath these words was a photograph. I gazed at it, drinking in the smiling woman with spiky vibrant pink hair who was holding a tiny baby with aquamarine coloured hair in her arms. She looked exhausted, but her small, heart-shaped face was lit up with a huge grin as she looked up at the man sitting next to her on the bed. He was a pale man with thick, light brown hair which was more than a little grey, and he looked quite a bit older than the woman, but the smile on his face made him look more youthful as he gazed at his wife and son with utter adoration and commitment. Looking at this old photograph of my parents and myself as a baby after having read this account by my mother brought them so much closer to me. And as I sat there I realised I was crying. Deep, gut-wrenching, embarrassing sobs. Because I had just read my parents' story, written by my mother. Written for me because she loved me so much that she wanted me to know her personally. Reading her words was like….like warm arms had reached out from the past and wrapped around me in a loving embrace, like a sweet voice had whispered in my ear I love you, Teddy and I always will, like I had finally met her. Reading these words was like hearing her laughing voice in my head, seeing her twinkling eyes before me and the warm, mischievous smile on her lips. I could hear her tone as she told it, see the changes in expression on her face as her mood switched, feel what she felt as she recalled these experiences. For the first time in my life, I was getting to know my parents. Not just through other people's memories and stories of them, but through their own words, through my mother's voice. For the first time since I could remember, my parents no longer felt distant and detached to me. For the first time ever, I knew them as my mother and father. Mine. No one else's.
And so it was that through the tears, through the ache of missing them, I felt a small spark of joy and hope. My mother's last wish had come true. After all these years, I had found my parents and I would never be able to lose them again.
THE END
A/N: SO, what did you think??? Did I have you all in tears by the end?:-( I know it's sad:-( I'm actually really pleased with how this chapter turned out, to be honest, but I want to hear YOUR thoughts!! (And please don't flame me for killing them off….I did say this would be canonical…) REVIEW!!! It's your last chance!! To everyone out there who HASN'T reviewed yet (you know who you are!!), this is your CHANCE!! I really want to know what you think!!! And to all those who have reviewed already (wonderful people!), I would love to hear from you again as well! Let's see if this chapter can get the most reviews!!!!:-)
SunnyZim