A Cold and Broken Hallelujah

    'I forgot to tell him. He never knew...'

    The man lying in a heap on the floor of the Black Mansion kept repeating this mantra in his head, over and over again. The pain in the middle of his chest was burning and his eyes were holding a curtain of tears. The usual kind smile and gentle eyes were no longer on his face, but one of tears and anger.

    The house elf had come to him when he had first arrived and yelled obscene things to him. Lupin wasn't quite sure what EXACTLY had happened, but the house elf was currently mending a broken limb and sobbing to its former mistress.

    Even the bitch's yelling wasn't consoling him. She was screaming about vile halfbreeds in her house again. He lay there on the cold, wooden floor and simply listened to her, taking in the abuse. Nothing seemed to matter.

    His eyes squinched up and he curled up tighter into a small ball on the floor as yet another memory resurfaced in his mind. One where Mr. Weasley was talking to him about his overprotective ways of Harry.

    "Why do you care for that boy so much Remus?"

    "What do you mean, Arthur?"

    "Well, it seems like you care a little TOO much. Like you'd die or something for him,"

    "I care so much, because James Potter was my friend,"

    "Aw hell, I have a lot of friends,"

    "I don't."

    No, he didn't have many friends. In fact, as of now, he had none. Save one adolescent boy. GODDAMN DUMBLEDORE! Why didn't he know this was going to happen? Why!? It wasn't fair! It just wasn't fair. Sure, Sirius had died in battle, but that didn't mean that it was fair. He never got to tell him. Oh God...

    Oh God, it hurt. It hurt to breathe. And before he could stop himself, THE memory resurfaced. One that he would never tell to anyone else. Something he would clutch to his chest and hold forever. A memory of him and Sirius, lying together in each other's arms, both wonderfully spent.

    "I love you..."

    He had chuckled in spite of himself at Sirius' confession. Glancing over towards his lover, he had recognized that look of devilry in his eyes. That look of 'You love me and you'll let me do what I want, right?' But he knew what he was going to ask.

    "Sirius...you can't leave the house. Dumbledore's orders..."

    "Oh come on. Just let me come with you to drop Harry off. Please?"

    He could not resist those eyes...and in that moment, he was weak. He wrenched his eyes up the heavens and began to scream. As if that alone, would help the pain in his chest subside.

"Why Sirius? Harry NEEDED you...not me. Harry loved you...not me. So, why did you die? Oh God, why hadn't it been me in front of Bella's wand instead of you? You could stand this horrible PAIN. Why couldn't...Oh god..."

    His cries broke off as another sob caught in his throat.

    "I forgot to say 'I love you,'...why didn't I say it?"

    He became a small ball once more and let his thoughts wander to the boy. Right now, Dumbledore was probably consoling Harry in his office. Telling him that it would be alright and Sirius wouldn't want you to be sad. Telling him that this was the way Sirius wanted to die or some other such nonsense.

    He saw the portrait in front of the mantle spring to life and saw an ex-headmaster appear in it. It was Phineus...one of Sirius' ancestors. He must have just heard the news. Maybe he was coming to gloat and say that he and the rest of the family had been right all along. Maybe his mother would have a laugh and say she was right all along.

    "Is it true?"

    Remus lifted his head slightly and looked towards the portrait. A single tear finally escaping down his cheek.

    "Yes,"

    The figure in the portrait nodded and left once more. Remus saw him, out of the corner of his eye, moving slowly throughout the house. He laid his head back down upon the ground and did not move. And then, there was silence. Mrs. Black had stopped wailing and screaming. Remus strained his ears for any detection of her and merely heard quiet tears.

    'Good,' he thought malevolently. 'She should be crying. Her only son is d--'

    Even now, he couldn't bring himself to say it.

    And then the quiet seemed too much for him. She should be screaming and Sirius should be running about and telling her off for screaming. There should be the sounds of him cursing and bitching about how he wanted to go. But no more.

    And then he knew. He was alone once more. Just as he had been all those years ago. No friends. No loved ones. Just a tiny, broken figure in the dark...and in that moment, he understood.

    And his heart hardened.