Forgive Him

To forgive is hard. For me to forgive him is very hard. What he did was wrong. I know that, James and Peter know that. He knows that. He said he was sorry. I believe him. I believe he is sorry. But forgiving him is more than that.

When James shoved him into the hospital wing, I knew he had done something terrible. It might have been the uneasiness that was clear on his face, on the fact that he wouldn't look me in the eye. Maybe it was just the feeling that the air took on when the door was slammed behind him by James. James and Peter stood next to one another by the door, watching him. He finally took a deep breath and took a few steps toward me in the hospital wing bed.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, looking carefully at the air next to my ear. I did not know what he had done, and I was very sure that I did not want to. I told him that. He just shook his head and averted his eyes to the floor.

"You have to know, Moony," James said softly, harshly. "You have to. And he has to tell you."

I glanced at James and then look back to him. He closed his eyes for a moment or two an opened them again. This time, he looked at me. He bit his bottom lip and rubbed the back of his neck. James gave an impatient cough. He glanced over at Peter and James before opening his mouth to speak.

"Moony," he said quietly, "we weren't there last night."

"I know," I told him. "Is that why you're sorry?"

He shook his head. "No. I did something I shouldn't have," he responded in that same quiet voice.

In any other circumstance, I would have asked him why this was such big news. It would certainly not be the first time that he broke a rule. But because of his tone, his stature, his somewhat pained and worried expression; because of the looks that James and Peter were wearing, both of dead seriousness, I said nothing. Instead, I look to him again, a signal for him to continue.

"I met up with Snape yesterday," he went on, still soft, though less shaky. "He had said something... about you. He said something about James and Peter too. But I don't need to explain that. It doesn't matter. I still shouldn't have..." He paused a moment and spared a quick glimpse of James. He stuck his hands into his pockets and continued, "I was sick of it. Sick of him and everything he did, all he stood for. So I told him- I-I told him- how to..." he swallowed. "I'm sorry Moony; I told him how to pass the Willow."

A few seconds ringing silence filled the room. The air seemed to thicken. And his words echoed in my head. How to pass the Willow... How to pass the Willow... The Willow...

He didn't. That was my first thought. He did not tell anyone how to get past the

Willow. No one but the four of us, and of course, the staff, knew how to get into the Shrieking Shack. I was ready foe him to crack one of his big grins and laugh, and say, "Oh, that was good. You believed that." And I would throw something at him. A pillow or an empty carton of Bertie Botts.

But he didn't grin. He didn't laugh. He didn't speak. I looked to James and Peter, still standing like sentinels by the doorway. Peter caught my eye and glanced to him and back to me. He wants me to make him go on? There's more? There's bloody more? James looked from Peter to me to him. His gaze lingered on him, but after a second turned back up to me. He nodded. "Continue," I said firmly. It was an order. And I knew, for once at least, he would follow my command.

"Moony, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking," he told me. "I was just so... so angry. And I never thought he would do it. Never. I didn't mean for it to happen, I swear. You... you do believe that... don't you?"

There is another silence, this one thicker than the last. I finally said, in a flat voice, "I believe you."

But he didn't look relieved. Probably because he thought I don't. So I said, "I really do believe you. I do."

He nodded. "Snape knows, Moony. And the only reason he's still alive is because Prongs went after him. Prongs saved his life. He's talking to Dumbledore, probably right now."

As if it were a play, Professor McGonagall briskly entered the room and, saying nothing but "Mr. Black," took hold of his arm and led him out of the infirmary, past Peter who looked a bit anxious and James who looked grimly pleased and resolved. I look past them as he is led out of the room. He glances over his shoulder and begins mouthing the words 'I am so sorry,' but McGonagall closed the door before he finished and silence fell again.

James and Peter walked over and gave me a soft clap on the shoulder. They shared looks and both turned without a word. James yanked the door open and walked around the corner. Peter stopped at the doorway and said to me, "Get well, Moony, and try to forgive him."

As I sit here in the dark, all alone, I think about it. Try to forgive... Forgive him. What did that mean? Did it mean forget? No. There are some things you can't forget. I know even if I do forgive him, he'll never forget. But I could tell, however sorry he was to me, he still felt Snape deserved it. It was in his eyes. At the mention of James saving Snape, his normally glittering, warm and soft grey eyes turned to a cold steel. So if he thought Snape deserved me to... attack him, does he deserve to be forgiven? There is no one for me to talk to about it. I know he is sorry. And I know I probably should forgive him. No, I know I defiantly should forgive him, as one should forgive anyone who wrongs them. So why, if I know it's right, and I know I want to, why is it so hard?