In Spirit Only

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Ordinary riches can be stolen, real riches cannot. In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you. – Oscar Wilde

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In Spirit Only

I left Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place for good. Siri was right, it is a horrid place. I just couldn’t stand to live there anymore, to feel the presence of all the Blacks but the one that I wanted to feel. I wanted to go back to the little rundown cottage that Dumbledore had let me use and whiter away until I could be with him again, but I couldn’t. The Order needs me, Harry needs me. Blimey! The Order can do without me, I think. I mean… What do they need with some ragged werewolf anyway? But Harry… Harry’s proven himself over and over again to, well, to everyone. He shouldn’t have had to, though. James left Harry to Sirius and, somehow, I feel that Sirius has left Harry to me. Sirius died protecting Harry… Sirius chose Harry over me… I know he had his reasons, but he chose Harry over me…

I owe it to Sirius and to James and Lily to set things right. They died for this, and I need to set it all right again. That’s what I keep telling myself, but I’m starting to doubt it. The Order, the War, Harry… In the end, the only reason I think I’m still here is Sirius would be upset if I joined him now.

Harry’s been a help, whether he knows it or not. I cried so much when I found out, but I’ve remained strong for him. If I could, I would take him away from the Dursleys and bring him home with me. I know Dumbledore’s reasoning behind keeping him there, but I don’t agree with it. Not like I really have a say in the matter. Besides, at least once a month, Harry and I have been getting together.

Routine in an uncertain time is always comforting, and every month we’ve spent some time together, every month since he turned sixteen. I collected him from Privet Drive on his birthday, determined to let him have a little celebration despite the War efforts that I knew were going on, that he knew were going on. A sixteen year old shouldn’t have to worry about things like that. Even with the dawning of the War I know that I only worried about school… and about Sirius at that age.

Sirius never really entered any of our talks until today. We were sitting in my flat, he’d flooed over, by the fire. It was nice and warm, I remember, not like it ever gets that cold in London. The scene reminded me vaguely of one of my last days in my old London flat, the one that I had shared with Sirius. We were sitting, watching the fire as Harry and I were, only Sirius’ arms had been around me. After James and Lily went into hiding we often watched the fire, as if we expected them to floo and say they were okay and Harry was fine, too. They never did, of course. Voldemort would have found them and killed them, the Prophecy and all. But, then, that’s what happened in the long run, right?

“He loved you, you know. Protecting you was his first priority,” I found myself telling him. I hadn’t meant to talk about Sirius, I just did. I knew he knew of whom I was talking. Funny how the entire Order treaded lightly on the subject of his death, yet I didn’t feel weird talking about him with Harry.

“Yeah, I know. That’s why he went against Lestrange,” he replied softly. “He laughed right before, too…”

“The thrill of it all, he’s always loved that… Merlin… he didn’t have to go in alone, he could have called one of us, we would have helped him!”

“But that’s not the way he was,” he choked.

“Always been too noble for his own good, Siri has.” My cheek felt wet, when had I started crying? I really hadn’t meant to cry in front of him – I’m supposed to be strong! I whipped at my cheeks with the back of my hand.

“You really miss him,” he commented. I could feel his eyes prying into my very soul. Could he read the pain and agony within it?

“We went though a lot together… I’d hoped that we’d be able to spend more time together before we were separated again. I wanted to die first. When he went to Azkaban that was one thing, Harry, I knew, somewhere in my heart, that he’d reappear someday. Death… Death is the first thing that’s ever been able to conquer him. It was the same with your father. We’ve escaped everything, Filch, professors… everything, and it was all a joke. We’d sit in our room, huddled around one bed and laugh about how we’d nearly gotten caught. It was all a joke to us…”

“But Voldemort won out in the end.”

“Yes,” I watched the flames, reading into them, “he got them… and feel that I’m next.” He jumped and protested. “Harry, it’s the way that it is. I’ll hold on, I’ve managed to thus far, but who am I without… He wants me to watch over you, it’s as if he’s asking me to do what he died for. He wants me to protect you because he and James can't.”

“I can…”

“I know, Harry, you’ve proven that so many times, and you shouldn’t of had to. They both feel better knowing that I’m here, at least I think that they do. Sometimes the Sirius in my dreams talks to me… not like memories, mind, but like he’s talking from death to me.

“I just wish that things were different, I wish that I’d been able to see you grow up. I wish that you could have known just how great James and Lily were. And Siri, too. He changed so much after Azkaban, not that I blame him. Things were so simple before. But then, none of us knew what life was like. We enjoyed the life we had, and we never expected that Voldemort would change it, we knew he was about and seeking…

“We all expected a herd of little Potters, and maybe some little Pettigrews for us to teach the Marauder way to.”

“No Lupins or Blacks?”

For some reason I dreaded the question, though I knew he’d ask one day. I thought that Siri’d tell him about us, him being his godfather and all. “Neither of us could have had children,” I said, my voice a whisper. “I loved your godfather, Harry, so much.

“How do you mean… Like?” he drifted off. His face coloured a bit, he understood.

“It hurts, to have lost him just after I got him back, that’s all.” I watched his face change, considering what I’d said no doubt… And there was a touch of guilt, too. “Don’t go feeling guilty, Harry, Siri was his own man, and he always had reasons for his actions – even if the reason was that he hadn’t hexed Snape in a good week. He protected you because he loved you and because it would have been what James would have wanted… I can't help feeling regretful, though.”

“Because you loved him,” he replied.

“Just so. It’s as if Voldemort is claiming everything, everybody I’ve ever loved and taking them from me. Your parents and then Peter… And, oh, the list grows.”

I felt, then, his arms around me, stiffly but they were there. It was a comfort hug, to show me that he was there and that he cared. I know that he wasn’t used to showing affection, wasn’t used to being cared about, cared for. He’d lost Sirius, his fatherly figure, only time could tell how much longer his motherly figure, Molly, would stay. Only time could tell anything. What does Harry think of me, I wonder.

“Remus?” he still wasn’t used to using my name, but I had told him on his birthday that if he called me ‘Professor Lupin’ once more I’d scream. He pulled his arms away, and looked, I don’t know, intelligent. No, that’s not right. Wise, maybe? Not like James, Harry and James are not the same, but he didn’t look quite like he normally did. “Promise me that you won't die. Not yet, please.”

“I can't make any promises, Harry, you know I can't.”

“I guess I’ve been ignoring what you might have felt, not paying attention,” no, he definitely didn’t sound like Harry, “It’s all been about me and about what I felt. I never stopped to think—”

“Harry, you’re sixteen!” I protested, he continued, unhindered;

“—that I was being foolish. I wanted Sirius to pay attention to me, but I never thought that I was taking him away from anyone.”

“He thought that you needed his protection more, that’s all. I’m a man grown. He probably thought I would have taken offence if he obsessed over me; I probably would have. You were his godson and I was his lover, if he treated us the same then I would have worried some.” That got a laugh. Was I treading too lightly? Maybe. “It’s time for you to go back to school, don’t worry too much, it’s unhealthy.”

And I shoved him off. Dumbledore had made me promise that I would get him back on time.

So I’m left alone again.

But I’m not really alone, am I? Somehow I feel that Siri is still here, partially. He came with Harry, just hasn’t left yet. I’m still by my fire, still watching the flames, yet there’s a coolness about. Is that you, Siri? It is you that touches my dreams, isn’t it? I guess we can be together only then.

You know that I don’t blame you for following Harry that day, right? I blame Peter and I blame Lestrange, but I don’t blame you. Maybe I blame myself as well. It just hurts. You were torn from me, I’m not whole anymore. How I long to feel your arms around me again! I want to know once more the taste that is so uniquely yours. I don’t want you to have left me, why did you leave me? I’ll see this war to the end, I’ll protect Harry…

Moony misses you, too. Last time, last time he knew that you were alive. He knew that you were taken from you and he went to find you. Now, now he sits all night an whimpers – no wolfsbane needed. He loves you as I do, without you he’s nothing. Without you I’m nothing at all. Everyone asks me to live on, but I fear that I’m becoming a hollow shell of nothingness.

How long before even your spirit returns to Harry? You’re not a ghost, I’d see you if you were. You’re only a spirit, a guardian angel that’s powerless in the end. Even in death you chose to watch over Harry, but he does need you.

I fear that I’m going around in circles, that I am finally starting to go mad. Well, it would take an extremely strong person not to snap after all this. I’ve never been strong, Siri, you know that I haven’t. You’ve always given your strength to me, I guess that’s why I felt so strange looking after you when you came to tell me about the Order. You’ve always been the strong one. And now you’re gone. You’re gone and I can't deny it any longer. I want turn around and see you, with a silly grin on your face. You know, that grin that meant you were up to something. I haven’t seen that grin in a good fifteen years. You’d changed, but you were still my Sirius, always my Sirius. Merlin! Why did you have to leave me? No, I’ll never get over your death. I couldn’t even hold you that one last time, you just had to disappear under that bloody veil, didn’t you?

It’s been nearly half a year since you’ve gone for good, yet I still cry myself to sleep. Is there something so wrong about wanting to fall asleep in the arms of the man I love? Damnit, Siri. I’ve wanted so little in my life, and it’s all gone. What’s become of us, Merlin, what’s become of us?

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