I Could

I Could

Sometimes I just want to forget.

Forgetting is easy. There's no pain involved. Let things slip away into oblivion and then you are under no obligation to deal with them. Thoughts that don't really exist can't hurt. Ideas that don't really exists can't keep you up at night. Yes, forgetting is easy.

It's the memories that are hard.

It's the memory that I'm not like everyone else. It would be easier to forget the taunts, and the whispers, and the speculation that everyone threw out. "Look at the sickly little Lupin kid" and "Don't play with him, he's strange." Children can be cruel, I know. But it leaves a mark. I could just forget and never let it come up in my mind again. I would never hear murmurs when there is no other noise in the room, or when I'm lying in bed, trying to find an hour or two of peaceful sleep. I could just forget, and be in peace.

It's the memory that my body breaks once a month. It would be easier to just forget the pain. I could put it out of my mind. Not think about it the other twenty-eight or so days that I don't feel my bones breaking, my teeth gnashing, and my mind becoming nothing more than a feral mirror image of what I thought I was... or who I thought I was. I could forget, and not watch the skies in dread.

It's the memory that everyone I ever loved is dead. I wasn't there fifteen years ago when two of my closest friends were killed... murdered at the hand of another man I once considered a friend. James... Lily... childhood friends who thought that they would have forever. They would've. We all would've. And I trusted him. We all trusted him.

I could forget it. Forget the rat that betrayed us all. Forget that he betrayed a man who had loved him like a brother since we were all old enough to point a wand and mutter spells. If I don't think about it, it would be as if it never happened. If it never happened, my life could take such a different path. I could forget, and not feel a pain in my soul from the deepest betrayal I have ever witnessed.

I could forget that 15 years later, that betrayal would kill my last friend... my best friend. I could just forget Sirius. After all, he's dead. No amount of memory or thought will change that fact. No memory will give him another breath. No memory will shine the sun on him, or make him smile. No memory will wet his hair or soak his fur. No memory will let him savor one more meal, one more note of music, one more prank, one more laugh, one more show of affection... one more anything. No memory will do that for him. I could just forget, and lessen the pain of loss.

I could, but I won't. To forget is to admit that you are weak. My body may be weak. It may break and tear with a curse that is older than legend. It may be getting older. It may be tired. It may be grey and worn out. It may be near defeat. But I... I am not weak. I cannot be weak. Not while I'm still needed.

And I know I'm still needed. The Order still needs me. No one has more experience as a dark creature, and I know many of the pains we will soon be up against once again. Dumbledore still needs me... I may be called in to teach once again. Especially since the incident this year. Snape still needs me, if only to show off that he can brew the notoriously fickle Wolfsbane potion. I don't think he'd ever admit it, but I think he likes the attention that comes with being the only one to control me. Harry still needs me. There is so much that James' boy has to learn if he's to be successful. I know Padfoot wishes that he could've watched. I will just have to watch for both of us. I'm so tired, but I promise to watch for all of us. If I forgot then I couldn't watch for all of us.

Maybe someday... maybe someday I'll get to lay down and rest. I'll forget all that has ever hurt, or cut, or broke, or pained me, and I will finally get to rest in the blissful ignorance of the moment.

Someday. But not today.