Moonlight

Moonlight.

By Arianrhod

This fic is set before Harry came to Hogwarts, in fact probably only a few years after the Potters' deaths, so pre-PoA. Lupin still believes Sirius betrayed James and Lily, that Peter is dead and has not seen Harry since he was a baby.

Memory,

It is a cruel thing. It taunts with happy times past and foolish mistakes unchangeable. And yet I cling to it for it is my only connection with those I love.

Turn your face to the moonlight

That's what you told me, Lily dear. When we left school and then again when Prongs asked you to marry him. "Turn your face to the moonlight and remember when we were free." I can still hear you say it, your clear voice on that bright day with silver tears misting your beautiful eyes.

I can do it at the moment; in a few days I'll be curled up in my rooms, but for now I can walk out here in the moonlight and remember. Remember when you were free; I'm not sure I've ever been free of care or obligation. I've always had to be so careful, or I've tried to be. Except for that brief time with you, my sweet. We threw caution to the winds, didn't we? And I've never regretted it.

Let your memory lead you

The moonlight always brings half-buried memories to life. Of the others, as well as of you. I remember the nights you waited up for us, determined to know where we disappeared to, and the single calm nod when Prongs affirmed your suspicions. I remember my surprise that you'd worked it out; I thought I'd been so careful. Maybe it was then I truly began to love you.

Open up, enter in If you find there the meaning of what happiness is

My memories of happiness are memories of moonlit adventures with Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, and memories of you. Both are tinged with guilt.

I was so happy when we prowled the streets and forest, getting into mischief and enjoying the feel of freedom from the discipline of Hogwarts. But I always felt a slight nagging of guilt, knowing how we were deceiving Dumbledore and imagining his disappointment if we were ever discovered.

It was the same when we were together. I knew Prongs worshipped you, yet I wanted you. I understood you, I made you happy. Of course I knew that you'd be his one day but until then I tried to persuade myself that you were no more his than the moon was. He might desire you, but you loved me. Still, whenever I held you, I imagined his face if he knew. There are some basic rules of friendship, and the first one is probably that you don't go behind a friend's back with the girl he's loved for the last six years. I broke that rule, and I'm glad.

Then a new life will begin.

How? How can I carry on? I've lost you and I've lost my friends. Two of them are dead, effectively by the other's hand. I can't carry on. Dumbledore keeps saying I have to, but I can't! I can't even hold down a job and my transformations are so lonely these days, made more so by the memory of companionship.

Memory,

It's all I have to live for now. Is it enough? I sometimes wonder, I sometimes doubt it. But I won't let go until I've seen Harry again. He had your eyes, your beautiful green eyes.

Dumbledore won't tell me were he took him that night, only that it was to your sister. But you hated her! I know you didn't name me godfather, but I could look after Harry better than she could! But Dumbledore won't let me.

All alone in the moonlight I can smile at the old days

And cry too, out here with no one to see me. I don't want sympathy or comment. I want what I can't have, I want you and no-one's words will give you back to me.

I was...

I was in some ways so innocent. I guess we all were. We had no idea of what darkness and jealousy would do to us, we didn't know they could break us, break our perfect world as even love had not.

We were clever, you and I, and Padfoot and Prongs were as well, and brave and handsome, and Peter always tried. We thought that together we could do anything, we held the world in our palms. And not even three years out of Hogwarts, that ended.

I'll always remember that night, and the funeral the next morning. Sirius was gone, of course, and Peter had gone after him. I stayed; someone had to do what was necessary and besides I couldn't leave you side. You were beautiful then.

beautiful then

...and you looked so strong lying next to him in the double coffin. You were both dressed in white robes and looked like sleeping angels. I kept hoping that you'd wake up except that I knew I'd been the one who'd closed those beautiful eyes, and I knew they weren't bright anymore, but dead and glassy.

You were clutching a bunch of your namesake. Lilies. The flowers of death. How did you parents know? Did they have magic without realising it? How else could parents know that their daughter was born to die?

And Prongs too. Is it wrong that even as I lowered him into the coffin, that I felt a stab of jealousy? I would have given almost anything to have died a brave death like him and them been allowed to be buried with you. Instead I'm left in a grey world with nothing left to live for.

I remember the time I knew what happiness was

But that that time seems very far way now. I think happiness died with you, Lily. Certainly, hope and purpose did. Or maybe happiness left before then, maybe it left when Padfoot and Prongs stopped trusting me, when they'd stop their conversations when I approached and look at me with cold eyes until you came and took me away. But you trusted me; I think I'd have gone mad otherwise.

Let the memory live again

I'm trying to remember what it felt like to love and be loved. But I'm not sure the memory is there anymore. It was a long time ago.

Burnt out ends of smoky days

Do you remember those summer evenings, Lily? Hazy with heat and smoky with love. We used to spend all night together, sometimes doing no more than talking. How Prongs would have laughed if he'd known I had spent all night alone with the girl I loved and had done no more than talk. But I remember there were nights that he would have approved of too, if only it hadn't been you who was with me.

The stale cold smell of morning
The street lamp dies, another night is over

But whatever happened during the night, we both dreaded the coming of morning. Going back to excuses for absences, curious friends and the feeling of being slightly out of place - either because of our blood or our abilities.

But morning always came, despite our often and fervent wishes that the world would stop turning and allow our nights to continue forever.

Another day is dawning Daylight, I must wait for the sunrise I must think of a new life
And I mustn't give in

I should go back inside soon. It's nearly morning and I must go back to being the calm, reconciled man they expect. Only at night can I let my mask slip and then I can walk in the moonlight and whisper to ghosts. But I must be strong, I will cope, I will get through. I have to if I want ever see Harry again, and I think I owe it to you that I at least do that much.

When the dawn comes tonight will be a memory too
And a new day will begin

Who knows, maybe today will be the day I find new job. Maybe today I'll make friends who I'll be able to look at without remembering Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. Perhaps I won't have to go to the bathroom to cry today because I saw a girl in the street that reminded me of you. You never know, perhaps today I'll stop hurting.

Sunlight, through the trees in summer

Must everything remind me of you? Must I be so pleased when it does? Even when the memory is painful. That day, those trees. I've been back there many times and relived it, hoping each blow will clear my soul of guilt and square me with Prongs's memory.

We were lying on the short, mossy grass under the tree, idly watching the sunlight dance between them, your head pillowed on my stomach. It was our tree, the one we often visited at the edge of the forest on the far side of the lake. In the distance we could hear the shouts of Padfoot and Prongs as they splashed in the lake.

You sat up. "Remus..." you started tentatively.

I knew something was wrong. You were never normally that hesitant. "What?" I asked, sitting up too. Then I saw your face. Your eyes told me, you looked so sad.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" I knew. I had known this day would come since you first came to me, but that didn't make it any easier; it still felt like some part of me had died.

"Yes. He asked me out today." You had no need to say who he was. He was always with us, the third person, the shadow who always lay between us. I wanted to scream, I wanted to ask why you had to go if you looked so sad. But I didn't. I nodded. And you began to cry.

I brought you to me and you sobbed into my shirt and I told you it was alright and stroked your hair. Then you stopped crying and looked at me, a look uncannily similar to the one you would give me on a night two years later when you told me you were engaged. A grave, solemn look that looked as though you'd made a hard decision but were wistfully thinking of the sweetness you'd turned away.

That look and then you got up and left. Soon your voice joined those who were playing in the lake and it was my turn to cry. I cried bitterly. I'd never cried more except for when I realised I was a werewolf and realised what that meant, and one other time - when I realised I was in love with you, and I realised what I'd end up doing to Prongs. I think that was why he didn't trust me at the end; I'd already shown I would go behind his back.

That day was so hard, but in a strange way, it was a relief. The act could be dropped. The endless masquerading was over.

Endless masquerading

Well, I still had to hide where I went over the full moon, and of course we had to keep our monthly adventures secret, but I didn't have to lie to my friends any longer. That was over and done with. No more guilt, no more excuses, everything was as it should be; Prongs had the girl he'd wanted for the last six years and none of them had turned against me.

Prongs didn't, even when he found out. I think it was because I never kept you from him; when I had you, you wouldn't have been with him anyway and when he asked, I let you go. But no matter what you said, I don't believe he ever forgot. That was why when they realised someone had turned traitor it was me he suspected. And I couldn't even defend myself - I couldn't tell him I'd have rather died than harm a single hair on your head, and if he didn't know I'd die for him too, there was no point telling him.

Like a flower as the dawn is breaking

You always did look beautiful at dawn. As we headed back up to the Castle the rosy light would break around you, tingeing your cheeks pink and making your wonderful hair glow.

I try to remember the exact way your hair felt as it brushed my hand or the exact contemptuous tone you used if you had to talk to Severus. But I can't.

The memory is fading

That scares me. What if one day I close my eyes and I don't see you? The small things are already blurry; not the way you looked, but the way you said some words, the way it felt as you did some things.

If memories are all I live for, what will I do if they all fade? How will I manage? And who will think of you, and remember? Who will be there to pass those memories on to Harry and take him to put lilies on your graves?

I don't want to feel the pain but not if it will lose the memories. That would be a betrayal indeed. But does not hurting mean a betrayal in itself?

Touch me, it's so easy to leave me

Please, all I want is one touch. A smile. A word. Why can't I have just those from you? Why didn't you stay here as ghosts? Why didn't you stay for me? For Harry? Are you here? Please, come back, just for a moment.

But you're not here. I'm...

All alone with the memory
Of my days in the sun

They're memories that sear and burn in my mind after so long in the dark, too long in the grey, dismal world I have to live in. Is it better where you are? Do you even need those sunny memories now?

If a shred of my faith remained I'd wish you to heaven, to have angels serenade you for all time. But faith and hope left along time ago, replaced by necessity of getting through the day.

If you touch me you'll understand what happiness is
Look, a new day has begun

Please...But no, the sun's already up. I have to go. I will come tomorrow I expect, Lily, my love. I shall turn my face to the moonlight and remember when we were free.

And I shall find Harry. One day, he will be as great as you were.

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