Holding a Torch For Gilderoy Lockhart

She tapped lightly on the door to Remus's office. "Remus?"

"Miriam?" he asked, turning at her voice. Just like Remus not to forget an old friends voice. "My God, what are you doing here?"

He looked... old and tired. His face was scratched and there were heavy bags under his eyes. His hair was shot through with silver.

"I was in Hogsmeade, and..." her voice thickened and she began to cry. "I- they say there are children in the Hospital Wing, and I had to..."

"Oh, Miriam," Remus said soothingly. "No, Miriam, I didn't hurt them." He pulled her into a hug as she cried harder. It was something he had done often, when her marriage had been falling apart, and after, when Sirius was sent away and James was dead. Just like then, Miriam had the feeling that maybe Remus wanted to cry too.

"Then what did?" Miriam asked after Remus gave her a tissue.

"Harry was Demented, almost given the Kiss," Remus said, shivering in time with Miriam. "His friend, Hermione has a sprained wrist, I believe. And Ron Weasley has a broken leg- Sirius did that."

"So its true? He has been attacking students?" Miriam demanded.

"Not really. It seemed that way, but then, last night, things became a little more complicated."

"More complicated?" Miriam said with a scornful laugh. "How did they become more complicated?"

"Peter Pettigrew showed up."

Miriam threw her hand out behind her, grasping for a chair to sink into.

"Peter Pettigrew is dead, Remus," Miriam said. "You know that."

"I did. I tried very hard to make it happen last night," Remus continued. Miriam looked up sharply, hearing the slight mockery in his voice. His eyes burned with pain. "Sirius hadn't been attacking students, Miriam. He'd been trying to get to Peter."

"What?'

A knock sounded at the open door. "Remus? I wondered if I might have a word with you?" Remus turned, and Dumbledore saw Miriam. "Oh. Hello, Ms Strout. It seems my communication system is slow this morning. I didn't know you were here."

"Hello, Headmaster. Remus was just telling me what happened last night."

"Do you think that's wise, Remus?" Dumbledore said with a kind smile and a censorial tone to his voice.

"I have every right to know what happened! My husband-"

"Ex-husband, Ms Strout."

That stopped Miriam and brought the question that hadn't quite formed to her lips. "If Peter is alive, then why is Sirius back on the lam?"

"Because Peter escaped. No proof, no exoneration," Remus explained, shooting Dumbledore a defiant look. "So, Sirius is still a fugitive."

"Oh."

*

Oscar was furious by the time she made it back to her flat. He was sitting outside her door, waiting, with a mouthful of accusations.

Miriam hadn't waited for a single one, overwhelmed by the twelve years of a lie she, and Remus and Peter and Sirius, had been living. "Oscar," she said, "this was great. Really. But it isn't going to work out, and I think we should stop."

"But..."

"No," Miriam said, having a painful flashback to those first few days after James and Lily had died. The sinking misery, overriding all other senses, the taste of betrayal. "I'd like to think we could be friends one day, but right now, I can't be with you."

"Is it what I said about Lupin? I- I know he's a friend of yours, I was just scared for you."

"It's that," Miriam conceded, "and more. My life just got terribly confused, and I'd like to make sense of it on my own, please." Actually, the very last thing she wanted to be was alone, but she couldn't look into Oscar's handsome face, with his sincerity, and not feel guilty.

Oscar gazed at her a moment, his eyes searching her face. "Sure. I'll, uh, see you around," he said quietly, kissing her forehead.

"Bye," she said, closing the door behind him. She began stripping off her clothes as she walked to the bedroom, passing the mirror, which told her she looked terrible.

"Go to hell," she screamed, throwing a coffee mug at the mirror and missing widely. By the time she pulled her covers down and crawled into her bed, her cheeks were stained with tears and she couldn't breathe. "I should have bought a dog."

"Miriam?" a voice called. Dearborn and Pippa came through her bedroom door. "We, uh, broke in. Came in through the window." Dearborn said, climbing onto the bed.

"Is it true?" Pippa asked.

"No. No, none of what we knew was true." More tears slid down her face. Pips was crying, too. "It was all wrong. All a mistake."