Moonlight

Chapter Fourteen

The Hand of Death

Remus returned to Hogwarts that Sunday evening. On the way he realized that he had a little less than a month until his seventeenth birthday--the day he would come of age. He was rather excited for that because then he'd be able to show his parents his wandless magic tricks.

In the meantime he found himself going from sketching people to sketching objects, both natural and man-made. However he was dissatisfied with the limits of charcoal, because with merely charcoal, he could not capture the beauty of light on melting snow. Shadow without color was easy, but without color, there could be no depiction of light. One afternoon when he was sitting beneath the beech tree by the lake, furiously sketching from memory the giant squid's tentacle rising above the lake's glassy surface, he felt the desire to go back through his older sketches. Aside from the ones of Lily, all of which he'd colored in with colored pencils, everything else was merely parchment and charcoal--black and white, which mixed together made gray. Remus sighed, pondering how gray his own life was--not to mention his hair: that morning he'd discovered a couple more gray hairs on his head. He didn't have nearly enough of it to even be remotely noticeable, but it was still there, and he knew it.

"Drawing again, are we?"

Remus gasped and looked up from his pad to see Lily. She and no other. She was smiling at him and shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand. "Er...y-yes," said Remus, his face growing hot. He couldn't let her see...he couldn't let her see that he'd been drawing her to the point of obsession....

"May I see?" she asked, stepping closer to him.

"N-No," he replied hastily, shutting the sketchpad and hugging it to his chest while he clutched his charcoal pencil in his hand. He could have kicked himself when he saw that she was slightly hurt by his answer.

"You let James, Sirius, and Peter see," she argued.

That was true. They had seen every last one of his drawings--except for the ones of Lily of course, which he managed to expertly conceal while showcasing his work to them--and they'd all told him he was a "real bon artiste" (of course they'd all chosen to pronounce the French in Cockney accents--and Sirius had particularly enjoyed the pictures of himself, adding that Remus really knew how to bring out someone's best profile). Yet even so, it was different with Lily. He feared he did not have the strength to resist temptation in her presence, and giving in to temptation was both the last and first thing he wanted to do.

"Remus, come on," Lily urged him as he avoided her gaze, taking interest in a nearby blade of grass instead. "Just a little peek. James said you drew a couple sketches of your brother. Can't I at least see him?"

Remus raised his eyes and considered her proposal. Just showing her his sketches of Ramirus wouldn't hurt, would it?

No! He couldn't even make the slightest bit of room for her. He had to keep away from her--while she still wanted him around, that is, rather than get close and then have her so disgusted with him that she never wanted to lay eyes on him again. He wanted to stay friends. That way they were guaranteed to always be together....

Resolutely he rose to his feet, tucking his sketchbook underneath his arm and sticking his charcoal pencil in his jacket pocket. "Maybe another time. I...er...have to go.... Erm...bye!" He hurried away, his gait accelerating to a jog as he retreated up to the castle, ignoring the sound of Lily yelling earnestly after him. Just to be sure he'd get to the solitude of Gryffindor tower as soon as possible, he decided to take the shortcut. But as he pushed open the tapestry that hid the shortcut's corridor, he came face to face with a private moment between Sirius and his girlfriend, Helena Yeats.

Helena had Sirius pinned against the wall, her hands grasping him by the shoulders, the two of them with their eyes closed, fiercely kissing almost as if one another's lips weren't lips at all, but rather hot, melted, mozzarella cheese. Sirius in turn was allowing his hands to travel down Helena's back. Then when one hand continued on towards her buttocks, she took one hand off of him and, without breaking the kiss, gave his mischievous hand a firm smack. He gave a grunt, but did not break the kiss either as he obediently brought his hand up and decided to tangle the fingers in her brunette curls instead. Helena seemed to like that and responded by twining her arms around Sirius' neck, and Sirius tightened his hold on her, hungrily deepening the kiss. Then when they finally came up for air, both of them breathless, Sirius noticed Remus standing there dumbstruck, and gave a yelp. Helena turned and gave a yelp too.

"I'm sorry!" Remus exclaimed, edging passed them. "I was just...erm...running...er...see?" And he supported his argument by turning tail and sprinting as fast as his legs would carry him down the shortcut corridor to Gryffindor tower.

Later that evening, while Remus, James, and Peter were doing homework by the common room fire, Helena stormed in through the portrait hole and stamped over to the girls' dormitories and up the stone steps before they heard a door slam.

Next Sirius came skulking in. On his way over to them he vehemently kicked the leg of a chair before plopping down between James and Remus and folding his arms. Considering the circumstances of when Remus had last seen Sirius, he was afraid he had something to do with whatever was going on between Helena and him, and he felt guilty and a little afraid--only because he had witnessed Sirius' temper get the better of him, and it was never pretty. He'd also witnessed Sirius' tendency to fall into a brooding, sulky mood get the better of him too, and that wasn't too pleasing to behold either.

"What's up with you and Helena, Padfoot?" James inquired, closing his Potions book.

"Helena and I've just sacked it off," said Sirius gruffly, not bothering to beat around the bush.

"What for?"

"Bloody paranoid. Thinks I'm loose. Convinced I've been cheating on her left and right, right under her nose."

"Why would she think that?"

"Because flocks of birds still chase after me even after I've settled on one for a change! In fact, I think they were doing it on purpose to get her away from me. I'll bet they knew she'd get all touchy about them always trying to have a go with me. I mean sometimes they'd come up and start running their hands through my hair--" Here Sirius unconsciously ran his hand through his short, black hair "--Didn't even have the decency to ask permission! People don't like that, no matter how...er...gorgeous they are. Anyway--"

"You know, Padfoot," said Peter thoughtfully, closing his Potions book as well, "you have gotten a tad vain lately."

"What? I have not!"

"He's right, actually," said James. "I mean come on, you couldn't stop staring at Moony's drawings of you. You kept praising at how well they portrayed your...erm...best profile, or whatever."

Sirius opened his mouth to deny that, but then realized that his friend was right. He slouched back in his chair. Some of the anger was ebbing away, but now he was sulking even more. "Yeah, you're right. I guess I did act a bit self-centered around her. Come to think of it, I was more concerned with her getting to know me that I kind of forgot about getting to know her. Really know her, I mean."

"But...it had nothing to do with...er...me?" Remus asked tentatively, closing his Potions book too.

Sirius glanced up at him. And then he let out a bark of laughter, his demeanor brightening considerably. "Oh God no! No, no, had nothing to do with you. But I'll admit Moony that that was about the most hilarious thing I've ever seen in my life!"

"What was?" James and Peter asked with grinning interest.

All four of them laughed until they had tears in their eyes when Sirius recounted the events of earlier that afternoon, when Remus had accidently stumbled upon Sirius and Helena's final make-out session mere hours before their break-up.

"Merlin, Moony! That's brilliant!" laughed James, half-sliding off of the sofa and onto Sirius, who was sliding off the sofa even further.

Peter, who took a moment to control his giggles, squealed, "Ooh! That reminds me! Cissy--"

"Oh it's 'Cissy' now, is it?" Sirius teased, straightening back up in his chair.

"Oh, hush up, Padfoot!" Peter laughed, throwing a ball of crumpled up parchment at Sirius, which hit Sirius square in the face.

The group burst into more peals of laughter. Remus was now sliding out of his seat too, pounding his fist on the arm of it. One who didn't understand the pure infectiousness of laughter and hilarity, might have mistaken them all for having drunk too much firewhiskey.

"Sorry, Wormtail, go on," said Sirius, wiping his eyes.

"Anyway," Peter giggled, "as I was saying: Cissy wrote back to me today telling me how much she enjoyed our stroll around the lake yesterday!"

"That's excellent, mate!" said James, clapping him on the back.

"We're proud of you," said Sirius, stretching out and folding his hands behind his head. "So, did you get as far as nuzzling noses this time--only joking!"

But Peter was blushing. "She...er...apparently she, erm...knows how to French kiss."

"Oooooh..." James and Sirius said in unison, exchanging glances.

"Wormy, you're so innocent," Remus added thoughtfully, resting his cheek in his hand as he rested his elbow on the arm of the chair.

"Yeah," said Sirius, still grinning. "Promise us you'll always stay that way? We'd hate to lose you."

~

The tenth of March was Remus' birthday, and this year it was his seventeenth--the day he came of age. The full moon the previous week had been about the best one in his life, and now as he awoke on the morning of his big seventeen, he couldn't help but awaken with a light and happy spirit. Anything that happened pleased him. Even when he spilled an ingredient on himself during Potions accidentally later that day, he could not but laugh. Afterward, Lily gave him her present--his very own Wizard Wireless radio, knowing how much he loved music. Straight after classes, James, Sirius, and Peter dragged him to the common room--away from the library--and forced him to tear open the presents they'd got him.

The one from Peter was a book on code-breaking, ("For your Department of Mysteries career, you know?"). It came with a free codex which Remus knew he'd find amusing to fiddle with whenever he grew bored.

Next was the one from Sirius. It was a golden compass, enchanted to take you to the one place on Earth that you feel the safest whenever you're lost.

"It's the only one in the whole entire world," Sirius told him. "Saying it's 'rare' is just a bit of an understatement."

"But...why are you giving it to me?"

"You just always seem to be losing your way a lot, Moony," said Sirius seriously.

Remus raised an eyebrow. "This isn't a Black family heirloom, is it?"

"Actually, it is," said Sirius. "But that's not why I'm giving it to you. Like I said, you always seem to lose your way a little. You see, my Aunt Arista--she was my uncle Alphard's sister--just passed away, and she was childless, and from what little I've told her and Uncle Alphard, Alphard felt that Aunt Arista would have wanted you to have it."

Remus, James, and Peter all exchanged significant glances. They knew how hard it was for Sirius at home. Only a few members of the Black family cared for him, accepted him for the oddball that he was in his otherwise pure-blood crazed birthright, and all of those relatives didn't live with him and hardly ever saw him at all. At home, Sirius was liable to get beaten with his father's cane for misbehaving, for going against his family's values: just this past summer, he'd been beaten because in addition to the Gryffindor-themed décor, he'd added posters of Muggle magazine models on the walls in his bedroom, and had put them there with Permanent Sticking Charms. Then for the rest of the summer they'd had Kreacher tail him wherever he went in the Black house, and was instructed to bite Sirius if Sirius misbehaved (on the train he'd showed them the bite marks). So Sirius had gone over James' house a lot--somehow, without his family knowing. It was as if he'd done this sort of thing before, sneaking off to meet a secret friend, but had made a mistake before and had now perfected his art so he could sneak off to visit James without getting caught. And while at James', Sirius had received those wooing lessons that seemed to have successfully landed him with Helena Yeats--even though now of course they were through.

"Cheers, Padfoot," Remus said gratefully.

Sirius smiled and punched Remus playfully on the shoulder.

Last was James' present. It was an alexandrite the size of the ball part of a Snitch, and it spun around in midair throwing the most beautiful rainbow patterns on the carpets and walls and furniture, and on the four faces of the boys--no, the young men--gathered there in the Gryffindor common room.

"It's beautiful," said Remus, "but why I do I feel like this isn't all it does?"

"You'll have to wait for that," said James with a wink. "It's a surprise."

Remus rolled his eyes, but then he gave James a sincere thanks for the gift. He then sent all of their presents--Lily's included as well--up to his bed in the sixth-year boys' dormitory.

TAP-TAP-TAP!

Remus and his friends looked to the window. Remus' heart leapt with joy: it was his family's beautifiul barn owl, Blodeuwedd--this meant his present from them had arrived! He hopped up and ran over to the window to let the barn owl inside. The owl swooped in and dropped the envelope containing the birthday card, and the small, box-shaped, birthday parcel in the armchair that Remus had just been occupying, and then flew back out into the bright, late afternoon sunshine. Remus closed the window again--it was still not hot enough to have the windows left open yet.

"That's the present from your mum and dad, right?" said Peter.

"Yep," said Remus, striding over to his chair with a wide grin. Just as he was about to pick up the envelope and open it to read the card, the portrait hole swung open and Professor McGonagall walked into the room (this was different) and following her was (this was really different) Professor Dumbledore. Remus did not like the somber looks on their faces.

"Remus," said Professor McGonagall in an unexpectedly gentle tone, inexplicably addressing him by his first name, "the headmaster and I require a private word with you on a matter of utmost importance." Ah. There was the usual formalities.

"And we would prefer it if it the word was private," Dumbledore added, eyeing James, Sirius, and Peter sitting in their armchairs.

Remus glanced quizzically at his friends, and then asked: "Sir, if you wanted it to be private, why didn't you call me to your office?"

Dumbledore and McGonagall exchanged odd looks.

And then Dumbledore heaved a sigh, looking exhausted. He then smiled weakly and said, "I thought I'd save you the trouble, seeing at it is your birthday--and your seventeenth birthday, no less."

"Black! Potter! Pettigrew!" McGonagall barked. "Off you go then! I'm sure Remus will come find you when he sees fit after the headmaster and I have spoken with him."

James, Sirius, and Peter, all began squawking protests at once, yet McGonagall silenced them with a look.

But Remus had an ominous feeling about what Dumbledore and McGonagall had to say to him, and he didn't want his friends to be sent away. He didn't want to face this alone, whatever it was. "I'd like them to stay, please, sir, if it's alright with you," he told Dumbledore softly.

Dumbledore looked him in the eyes.

Remus tried to read his headmaster, but there was no cracking the code on those mystifying, enigmatic blue orbs set behind those half-moon spectacles. One thing Remus could see however was the unmistakable traces of sadness, and this puzzled him even more.

"Very well," Dumbledore said at last. "Perhaps it is better this way. Please, Remus, have a seat." He motioned to Remus' chair, which still had the card and present from his parents sitting in it.

Remus moved them over and sat down.

Dumbledore and McGonagall strode around the chairs and came to stand before them with the lit fireplace behind them.

"First of all," McGonagall began, "I want you all to swear that you will keep this quiet, as it pertains to the secret business of the Order of the Phoenix."

Remus, James, Sirius, and Peter looked around at each other in bewilderment, and then nodded to the professors, affirming that they would keep the information secret, and just amongst friends they could trust.

Dumbledore spoke directly to Remus: "There is no easy way to say this, Remus. I'm afraid that late this morning your mother and father were found dead in a forest a few miles outside of London."

Remus spastically grasped the arms of the chair in which he sat. The air in the room seemed to grow thinner, and there was a burning, writhing sensation in his stomach. A burning that gradually rose to the back of his throat. "W-What?" he stammered, wide-eyed. "M-My parents...dead...?"

"I'm sorry, Remus." In the headmaster's eyes, Remus saw a depth of sadness so sincere that it spoke of genuine heartfelt sorrow and empathy. It also spoke as a confirmation of the terrible truth that had been divulged to him.

Remus' breathing grew shallow, his whole world crashing around him, turning into a ship that was sinking fast into the sea. "But--But h-how...?"

"According to the Order of the Phoenix," said McGonagall, whose face also bore an expression of genuine sympathy, "though we are not certain as to whether or not any of them were suspected Death Eaters, we are certain that it was an act of murder committed by a group of followers of Lord Voldemort."

This time, Remus did not flinch at the sound of the name. This time, no one flinched, save for Peter. This time, it was different. This time, it didn't matter if no one said the name or not, because the wrath of Voldemort had just touched his own personal life for the first time...the war had spilled its blood onto his family...he would never fear to utter the name again.

But he didn't want his parents' deaths to be true.... It wasn't possible that he would never be able to show his parents his wandless magic...never again tell his mother about what he was up to in his studies at school...never again ask his father for advice on something when he couldn't decide for himself, even after going over the problem hundreds of times in his head...never again feel his mother's warm arms enfold him, giving him a smile that always hid how she constantly worried about him...never again have his father ruffle his hair and grin proudly at him....

And then...what about Ramirus? Quickly he looked up at Dumbledore and said, "And my little brother?"

"Thankfully the Order found your brother alive and well in the trunk of a tree nearby. It is possible that your family had been trying to run, because your parents' bodies were found far apart from each other, which suggests that your father may have tried to hold them off and give your mother a chance to run for it with your brother, and your mother had hid your brother, who was wearing a protective amulet around his neck that would ensure him that he would only be discovered by people who did not wish him harm, and then shortly after hiding him, your mother was killed by the attackers, after they had killed your father." Dumbledore sighed and continued. "I assume that you are the only family your brother has left?"

Remus nodded. He was sweaty all over, and yet he felt so cold.

"Well, since you are of age, you ought to have the right to obtain full custody of him, however, even if you were ready to take on an infant of not but one month and one day old, the fact that you alone are his surviving family combined with the fact that you are a werewolf does complicate things. It's possible you may never be granted custody of him until either A: you are married to a non-werewolf, or B: if Ramirus were to be turned into a werewolf as well."

Remus shuddered at the thought.

"For now, however," Dumbledore went on, "we will not worry, since you are still in school in any case. And do not fear for little Ramirus, either. He is presently being kept and well-cared for at the orphanage attached to Saint Mungo's Hospital, and you are, in fact, allowed to visit him whenever you like. I would also like to inform you that Order members searched your house for anything resembling a last will and testament, and they found the birthday present your parents were planning to owl to you once they had returned home, and it was mailed to you promptly with your family's owl. They also did find your father's will, and he has left you everything he owns--his money, his watch shop, his old broomstick, the house--everything."

Remus lowered his eyes to his lap and folded his hands in it, feeling nothing but numbness. "Thank you, sir," he said mechanically. At the moment he desired nothing more than solitude. He looked up at Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall and said politely, "Will you excuse me?" Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed the present from his parents and ran up to the sixth-year boys' dormitory. Vaguely he heard the sounds of James and Sirius and Peter calling after him, but he paid them no mind.

As soon as he was upstairs he shut the door behind him. The presents from his friends sat at the foot of his bed. He sat down at the head of it, set the small, box-shaped parcel beside him, and tore open the envelope. Unfolding it, he read:

10 March, 1977



Happy Birthday, Remus!

Your father being in the profession that he is, took it upon himself to make your present--a present which happens to be a traditional coming-of-age present for witches and wizards. Now, we know that it will remind you of your least favourite time, but it's beautifully made, and with your father's own hands too. We are both so very proud of you son, and we love you so much.

Below that were his parents' signatures of "Mum" and "Dad", and then there was added, "and Ramirus too!"

An odd burning sensation erupted in the back of Remus' throat as he read the letter, written in his mother's warm, gentle hand. He took a deep, shuddering breath and set the letter aside, taking up the parcel instead. He tore it open to find a find a cherry wood box. He lifted the lid and inside, cushioned by red velvet lining was--

A watch. A watch crafted by his father, the watchmaker. It was the finest watch he had ever crafted, and he'd done it for his son...his first-born son....

This watch was gold and had six moons instead of hands. Each moon sported a different phase in the moon's monthly cycle, and they all glowed brilliantly against the misty night sky background as if each of them were the real moon....

His mother had been right...it did remind him of his least favorite time...but he loved it so much...because his father had made it himself...for him....


"Wondered where you'd got to, son," said John Lupin when they'd reached him, giving a laugh that sounded half-amused and half-anxious....

The watch shop was his now...what was he going to do with a watch shop? He'd have to sell it. He'd need the money anyway, seeing as how he'd have to fend for himself from now on. Yes, that's what he'd do, he thought as he set his watch and the letter from his parents on the bedside table. He'd sell it.

"Oh...sorry," Remus muttered. He looked up at his mother, and saw that she was smiling fragilely at him.

"You're growing up so fast, Remus," she said fondly, reaching out and running her fingers lightly through his bangs, smoothing them out....

Remus fought the urge to cry out and got to his feet. He gathered up the presents from his friends and locked them in his trunk.

Her voice cracked slightly when she said his name, and Remus thought she might start crying. Ever since he'd become a werewolf she was nearly always openly vexed about him.

"Mum? Dad?" he said quietly. "Do you know what Dumbledore's planning to do about my--my problem?"

"He just said someone would come to take you up to the hospital wing," his father answered. "And you and he and Madam Pomfrey will talk about everything there. I don't know when; probably tonight, after the feast." He checked his watch. "It's nearly eleven, Jo...."

Remus sat on the edge of his bed and kicked off his shoes.

Joanne Lupin put her arms around Remus' shoulders. She kissed him on the forehead then pressed his hair against her cheek, clutching him. Remus returned the embrace, wishing she didn't fret so much. She had good reason to over-worry, but he still wished that she wouldn't.

"Jo," John said softly. "He's got to get going."

Joanne finally released Remus, cupping his face in her hands for a moment before pulling away completely and straightening up. Remus saw her wipe flusteredly at her eyes....

Remus rose again and went over to his bag. He knelt beside it and dug out his ink bottle and his pheasant feather quill.

"Take care, son," said John, pulling Remus into a very fierce hug that Remus had not braced himself for. He couldn't remember his father ever embracing him so tightly. Luckily he didn't try to prolong the embrace, like Joanne had. When he released him, he sniffed, taking a tiny step back as he reached out to ruffle his son's hair. "You'll do fantastically," he said....

Remus returned to his bed and pulled out his journal from the drawer of his bedside table. He dipped his quill in his ink. As he wrote, the pen moved slowly across the page, recounting the events of the day like a dream.

When Remus woke up in his bed the following morning, he woke not to his mother, as he normally did when he was at home, but to his father....

"Hey, Dad," he said groggily.

John smiled that smile of his that was half-affectionate, half-mournfully guilty. He reached over and brushed a few bangs out of Remus' face, and then absently ruffled his hair. "You're brave, you know that, son? I'm proud of you...."

But when it came to writing the reflection, to writing about he how he felt, his mind was a blank. He paused, set his journal and quill aside, and picked up his parents' letter. He reread it...and reread it again....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ted was lost in reading the last of Remus' entry for the tenth of March:

My life is in shambles. There's a sombre shadow floating inside of me. I want to cry. I WANT to, and yet I find myself even now fighting the urge to do it. Why? Why can't I let myself do it? Ever since I was bitten, I let Mum do all the crying. But Mum's not here anymore. I hate this! This isn't fair! I want them back! I don't want them to be dead! I have all of this...STUFF to deal with now! I have to sell the watch shop...I have to live in that house alone and take care of myself...somehow.... And Ramirus.... What of him? I'll never be allowed to look after him myself...he'll be stuck in that orphanage for the rest of his life, and all I can do is visit him.... He'll never know Mum and Dad.... I hate my life! I hate that I want to cry but I won't let myself! How stupid is that? I want to break things, tear things, rip things! I want to kill the bastards who murdered my parents! I'll find out who they are, and when I do, I'll track them down and kill them! I'll wait until full moon...and then I'll slaughter them all!



Ted shuddered at his father's dark thoughts bent on revenge. As he turned the page, folded up pieces of parchment fell out. Ted picked them up and opened them, discovering that they were letters from his father's parents. There was the one his father John had written, telling Remus of the birth of his little brother, Ramirus, and then there was the letter Joanne had written, sending him birthday wishes from all three of them.

And then he remembered the watch he'd received for his seventeenth birthday. His grandmother said it had been his father's. Ted dug it out of his pocket and looked at it. The description in Remus' journal matched it perfectly.

This watch had been handmade by Remus' father...by Ted's paternal grandfather....

Surprisingly enough, this thought left him feeling rather empty inside. Despondently he checked the time on his father's old watch that was now his, and read that it was now two o'clock in the morning. He should go to sleep now. He had exams to study for later...he had classes...he had French lessons at lunch with Victoire....

He set the watch and the letters on his bedside table. He closed the journal and stuck it back into the Answers box, which he then transfigured back into a gold Gobstone. He rolled over underneath the covers and closed his eyes.

His sleep was restless, filled over and over with the same dream--the dream of his own parents saying goodbye to him as a baby before leaving him forever.

~

"No more reading that journal," Rodger said flat out over breakfast. He'd had to drag Ted out of bed, having decided that he wouldn't let him have a lie in and skip breakfast this time.

It didn't matter though. Ted had fallen asleep in his bowl of cornflakes anyway. "Wanna...read it..." he protested in a mumble, which was half-gurgled by the milk that had been poured onto his cereal.

"Ted, we've got exams in a couple of weeks, we've got the Quidditch final this Saturday!" Rodger argued. "You can't go on like this! You're sleeping in your cereal for Merlin's sake! Come on, get your head out of there before some git from Slytherin has a go at you."

Ted sluggishly raised his head, one half of it dripping with milk with a few cornflakes stuck to his cheek and his hair. "Not all gits are Slytherins," he grumbled. "And not all Slytherins are gits either."

"Sorry," said Rodger, conjuring a towel and throwing it at Ted, hitting him full in the face with it.

~

"Qu'est-ce que c'est?" Victoire asked Ted later on at lunch, holding up her wand for him to see.

Ted, who was lazily stirring the potatoes, meat, carrots, celery, onion, gravy, and other assorted vegetables in his bowl of stew, looked up and dived into his newly acquired French vocabulary and grammar. "Er...." She said, "What's this?", and...wand...what's the word for wand...? Oh yeah! "C'est une baguette," he said.

"Completement?" said Victoire, raising her eyebrows.

Ted rolled his eyes. "C'est une baguette magique. Even though you said you often just say baguette without adding the magique."

"Yes, but baguette alone can also be the bread."

"Okay, why is it that the word for wand is also the word for a kind of bread in French?"

"Don't ask me, I didn't make up the language."

"Well, I thought the word was baton, actually. Or I thought it would be, anyway. You know, like in Beauxbatons Academy of Magic?"

"Yes, but that's not the right word for it. I think that the founders of Beauxbatons were probably thinking of calling it Beauxbaguettes...but no, it'd be Bellesbaguettes because baguette is feminine--Ted? Are you all right?"

Ted looked up and saw that Victoire's face was bent with concern. He sighed and said, "I just read up to the part where my dad finds out his parents have been murdered by Voldemort's followers."

"Oh." Victoire covered her mouth with her hands. After a moment she lowered it and said in a hushed voice: "I'm sorry, Ted. Did that--Did that make you...think about...losing your own parents?"

"Yeah, not that I actually recall losing my parents, but yeah, it did."

For a moment the two of them sat in silence. Ted glanced over at the monumental plaque set into the floor in the middle of the Great Hall. He knew it was the plaque marking the place where the epic duel between Voldemort and his godfather, Harry Potter, had taken place, years ago. And mere hours before that event occurred, the life had been wiped from the bodies of both of his parents....

"Do you know what the French word for 'remembrance' is?" Victoire's voice asked.

"What?"

"Souvenir."

Ted turned to look at her tentatively smiling face. He found that the sight of her produced an uplifting effect on his otherwise bereft mood. He managed a smile and said, "Nous pouvons continuer?"

~

Rodger made Ted study everything that night, for at least three hours, before he allowed him to crack open his father's journals to continue reading them.

"Just let me test you one more time on the twelve uses of dragon's blood!" Rodger called after him as Ted hurried up the steps to the dormitory. "I'm not sure you've got them all down solid!"

"I do! I do!"

"Ted! Ted!"

"What?!" Ted whirled around to see Bartholomew Spinnet blinking at him, as if taken aback. "Sorry," he muttered. "What's up, Spin?"

"Professor Longbottom asked me to give you this," said Bartholomew somewhat uncertainly, handing him a folded piece of parchment.

"Er...thanks. See you at practice tomorrow."

"Right."

Ted opened the letter and read as he made his way up the steps:

4 May 2015



I spoke with Professor Bones this morning, and she said that because the year is almost over, she would like to start you on your lessons in wandless magic when you return to school next year for your seventh year. Good for you!



Ted couldn't help but smile. He folded up the note and stuck it in his bag, and then went into the sixth-year boys' dormitory and took out his father's journal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Remus?" said James. "You look...terrible...."

Remus opened one eye, and saw his three friends all looking at him concernedly. He groaned and rolled over, burying himself beneath the covers.

"Come on, mate," Sirius coaxed gently. "You've got your Apparition test today. If you pass, then you can see your little bro whenever you like."

"Well, not whenever," said Peter. "Just when you don't have class."

"Oh, hush up, Peter. You think he cares about classes right now?"

Remus wasn't listening. He was finding it hard to believe that it was only the day after his birthday...and approximately thirteen hours ago he'd found out that his parents were dead...murdered. After he'd finished writing in his journal, he'd slipped under the covers and slept. In his clothes. He never slept in his clothes...except for that one time...that one time...when later the next morning his father had woke him up to tell him that his mother was pregnant...with Ramirus....

He gritted his teeth against the pain the memory brought him, because remembering his parents reminded him that all he had anymore were memories.

"Remus, you can't miss your test," said Sirius. "You can skive off your classes...I recommend it, considering the state you're in, but not the test. Don't skive off the test."

Remus threw off the covers and sat up. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and faced his friends. "Yes. I'm aware that I slept in my clothes. And my hair's probably atrocious."

"Remus...your hair's turning grey!" Peter squealed, pointing.

"Calm down, Wormtail!" said James, trying to lighten the situation. "It's just a side effect of lycanthropy."

Remus got up and examined himself in the mirror. His hair was still mostly brown. There was just a few strands now, making the change more prominent. He gritted his teeth again as he recalled his mother overreacting about his very first grey hair. And then he noticed a steely flash in his brown eyes, under which there were dark circles. He squinted. The corners of his mouth twitched mirthlessly at how dangerous he looked. He turned away from the mirror and left the dormitory, forgetting his friends standing there.

He went down to Hogsmeade for his Apparition test, and passed it with flying colors. Afterwards, he went to Dumbledore and requested permission to leave the school and visit Ramirus at the orphanage.

Dumbledore peered at him over his half-moon spectacles and said, "You realize that you haven't been to any of your classes today?"

"Yes, sir," said Remus mechanically.

Dumbledore sighed. "Very well. You now have your Apparition license, and you are of age, of course. Off you go, then."

~

Remus stared down at his baby brother in the bassinet in the infant nursery at St. Mungo's orphanage.

Ramirus waved his fists in the air and lazily kicked his legs. He had his pacifier in his mouth and he was sucking on it, his silvery eyes fixed on Remus.

Remus reached down and grasped Ramirus' tiny hand in his thumb and his first and middle fingers.

Ramirus wrapped his tiny digits around Remus' first finger.

"Don't you worry, kid," Remus whispered. "I'm still here. I'm still here."

Ramirus let go of his hand and reached up with his arms.

Remus managed a smile for Ramirus' sake as he scooped him up in his arms like he'd been picking up one-year-olds for years. While Remus held his baby brother against him, he made a vow to his parents that he wouldn't let anything happen to Ramirus.

~

Remus was keeping too much to himself--more than usual, anyway. His friends kept trying to talk to him, but he always gave them the signal that he wished nothing more than to be left alone. He didn't want to talk about his parents dying. What he did want was to hunt down his parents' killers and bring them down like helpless prey. At the moment, however, Dumbledore was keeping an annoyingly close watch on him, as though expecting him to run off one day, disregard his school work--which was sliding anyway--and embark on a mission to avenge the deaths of his mother and father. He was trying to keep Remus in school, so that he would complete his studies as he should.

As if that mattered! Remus simply bided his time. Mostly he just withdrew to the dormitory, sketching, instead of doing homework and studying for exams early (like he normally did). One afternoon, sitting alone on the edge of his bed in the dormitory, Remus heard a soft knock on the door. He had his drawings out, and he was in the middle of sketching a violent picture of a wolf killing a deer.

"Remus?"

Remus stiffened. It was Lily.

"Remus? Can I come in?" her muffled voice inquired through the door.

"No," Remus growled.

"Well, I'm coming in anyway."

"No!"

The door opened...and there was Lily...standing there...immaculate as ever.

Hastily Remus began gathering up his drawings and sketches. "I told you not to come in!" he snapped.

"You've been telling a lot of people that lately," Lily said coolly, closing the door behind her. "I see you still don't want me looking at your drawings."

"What do you mean I've been telling a lot of people not to come in?" Remus demanded, hastily piling his sketches together and ignoring her second comment.

Lily came over and sat on the edge of the bed next to Remus'.

Remus stopped gathering up his sketches and glared at her.

"You know, James' uncle, Everard Potter, was murdered trying to stop a witch by the name of Araminta Meliflua, from murdering a Muggle boy," said Lily.

"He still has his parents though, doesn't he?"

"Death is death, Remus."

"And you'd know something about that?"

"You know Remus, everyone in life has to deal with the deaths of people they know, even people they love if they have the capacity for it, which most people do, though it may not always seem that way at first."

"What's your bloody point?"

"The point is that you're not the only one in the whole bleeding world who's dealing with it! James has dealt with it too! And Sirius!"

"So?"

"You won't talk to them! Remus, my God, when I look at you now, I see stony hatred in your eyes!"

"What do you care? You and James are cozy enough without me around!"

"I care about you! I do care! And so does James, and Sirius, and Peter! And everyone else!"

Remus' blood was boiling, his pulse was rushing. All he could do was glare at her...this young woman whom he loved....

The burning sensation he'd been fighting all week returned to the back of his throat. His eyes grew hot. He looked away from Lily, clenching his fists and grinding his teeth.

"Remus...."

He felt her hand on his fist. He gasped and recoiled, staring at her in wide-eyed amazement. He gazed hard into her green eyes...so fiery...yet so soft and tender....

All his anger melted away without pretense. He suddenly felt weak. He could no longer hold in the wave of cries he'd been holding in since he'd first heard of his parents' deaths. His breathing grew shallow like it did before...and the air was thinning like it did before.... Water filled his eyes and blurred his vision.

He let out a whimper. Then he let out another. And another. And another. And another...until he was crying quietly, with his hand clapped over his mouth, tears streaming freely down his cheeks.

Lily rose and sat down beside him. She tried to put her arms around him, but he wouldn't let her. Gently, he shoved her away.

He turned his back to her and grasped a hold of the headboard, clinging onto it as if for dear life. Vaguely, he heard the rustle of papers behind him, and realized with a jolt that she was poking through his drawings. Yet he did nothing to stop her. He was too frozen with fear...fear that she would come across his drawings of her--the only ones that he'd taken the time to color.

"Is this him? Ramirus?"

Slowly, Remus turned to her and saw she had a picture of Ramirus sleeping in his bassinet at home.

Home....

Remus nodded, taking his hand away from his mouth at last.

"He's wonderful," said Lily, smiling. "You're really good at this. I mean really good."

Remus sniffed in place of a "Thank you". His tears continued to flow unimpeded down the sides of his face. Then, with horror, he watched her set down the picture of Ramirus and uncover a drawing of herself sitting in the common room. The empty space was where her friends had been sitting with her, but he'd only had eyes for her...so he'd only drawn her sitting in the chair.

She looked up at him, her brow knitted. "Are there...more...of me?"

Remus nodded and bowed his head. He watched his tears falling from his face splash onto his lap. To his surprise, he felt Lily touching him again, scooting over right next to him and taking him by his shoulder. But this time Remus hadn't the strength to resist her. He let out a sob and collapsed into her arms. More sobs poured out of him as she tucked his head under her chin and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight, while he drank in her wonderful scent of lilac and vanilla....

Even after he'd calmed down, they remained like that, with Lily holding Remus in her arms, for a very long time...until the sun set and the skies outside turned black.