Our Little One

.~*~.Our little one. ~*~.

Chapter Seventeen

Dark Memories

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This part of the chapter is from Remus's POV.

This chapter is partly flashbacks.

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Eleven times.

Eleven times, I've attempted suicide. Fortunately, I haven't managed yet.

I can only wonder when that'll happen.

It's hard not to blame myself for it, even though I do know that it's the wolf that makes me suicidal. I just can't help feeling that I'm betraying everyone whenever I press the blade against my wrist, whenever I weight the poison phial on my palm, whenever I step to the edge of the window slide to fling myself down to the ground. There's no way to help that feeling, because I know it's true.

Still, I try again every time.

I don't even know why I'm doing it, for I certainly don't want to die. Not when I'm in my right mind, at least. Unfortunately, my state of mind is the sum of many things - other people's doings, my own recent experiences, and especially the phase of moon. Ten out of my eleven attempts have been within a few days' range after the full moon, done in my usual post-full moon depression.

Curiously, my depression seems to be tied to other people. During the twelve years I spent alone - not Lucius, not my friends, not anybody on my side - I didn't attempt suicide a single time. I'm especially dependant on Lucius, and whatever is going on with him.

Five days after Lucius and Narcissa's wedding, I sliced my wrists. On his birthday the next year, I took poison. When my birthday, the day of our first time, came the next year, I jumped from a window on the fifth floor. After my silverburn, I'd spent just a few days in the Manor as I already tried to kill myself. Once, during Lucius's time in Azkaban, I sliced my wrists, and when he just kept crying and blaming himself after the childrens' death, I tried to drown myself. About that time, he doesn't even know - Sirius and Severus, who saved me, promised not to tell him if I, in turn, promised not to do that again.

Two times, I did it only because of the distress and uncertainty caused by of the Second War. Once after Severus's accident, then another time after Sirius's motorbike accident - we truly thought he was going to die - and, one time, just because nothing seemed to have any purpose anymore.

Merlin, I'm pathetic.

At this point, I maybe could name my favourite way of suicide. Well, I've cut my wrists five times, which is the record. I should maybe know at this point that it isn't going to work - my wrists are crossed with scars at every place as a proof of my still on-going foolishness.

I've seen how it hurts the others. They come to me, not asking anything else from me than that I wouldn't hurt myself and thus the others. And I'd want to promise them that, Merlin, how I'd want to, but it's not under my power to make a promise like that.

I no longer control my own being in that matter. I don't think I have ever since I was bitten.

We all just hope that I'll be unsuccessfull for still a long time to come.

Merlin, I hope that I could stop these thoughts... Why are they even coming to me, anyway? I usually only think about my suicides after the full moon. Now, there's nothing that could bring those thoughts to my mind...

Nothing, but Olivia being away.

Gods, I want to die. I love that girl, I really do - she's maybe only been a few months under our custody, but she's still a daughter to me. Babies are dear to their parents from they day they are born! Okay, so there's the nine months' pregnancy to prepare the baby's arrival, but still... When have I been able to deny love? Just look at my family; we're maybe an odd combination, but we love each other. And love is what makes a group of people a family.

Olivia is undeniably a part of our family, but she's now away.

If I could, I would go and strangle Weasley...

No, no. Don't think like that. Thinking about other people's death always leads me to suicidal thoughts. I don't want that to happen again, for I might manage to take my life.

And if I died now, what would be left for Lucius?

Merlin, Olivia... I honestly hope that Severus will be able to bring you back to us. He's a Slytherin; he should be well capable of winning two trials, especially against a Gryffindor like Weasley.

A Gryffindor, truly. This is what has become of me: A man valuing people of his own House lower than people from the other Houses. It is, however, very clear that while the other Houses were supportive of all of our relationships, be it Harry and Draco, Sirius and Severus, or Lucius and me, it was always Gryffindors who couldn't stand the fact that we were gays.

I'm beginning to feel ashamed of being a Gryffindor.

I don't even feel like a true Gryffindor anymore. Is it possible for an adult to be resorted? Maybe I should ask Dumbledore.

No, really, sometimes this 'bravery' is very useful. It keeps me going.

Like that time I was in Azkaban.

It isn't like I'd done anything, no - although I didn't know it at that point, of course. The Ministry men just came after one full moon - it was June 1985 - and arrested me, suspected of a murder. I, like all the werewolves of the area, spent the next month in Azkaban, not even knowing whether I was guilty. Of course, I didn't believe it - I'd locked myself inside, like I did every month - but in Azkaban, all I could think of was that fateful night when I almost killed Severus.

It was a nightmare. Truly, it was - I still sometimes have nightmares about it. And still, it wasn't even half as hard as when Lucius was in Azkaban.

I knew that my imprisonment would be over after the next full moon, either to freedom or execution (by that time, guilty werewolves weren't put to Azkaban, but killed). But when Lucius was there, I couldn't know whether he'd come back or not...

And if he came back, whether he'd be the Lucius I knew and loved.

At first, it looked like he wasn't.

~*~*~*~

This part of the chapter is not from any particular first-person POV.

~*~*~*~

***

10th of September, 1998

*

Remus watched the fireplace impatiently, waiting for a face to appear in the flames. As soon as Severus's head arrived there, he sighed in relief despite his shock and sorrow.

"Severus," he said in an agonized voice. "Severus, they took Lucius! He didn't even get inside the house when they were already taking him away! And one of the Aurors... spoke about Azkaban..."

To his great shock, the Slytherin nodded wearily. "I know," Severus sighed. "We didn't hear about it until this morning, otherwise we would surely have warned you. They accused Lucius of being a Death Eater, which he can't very well deny."

"But he was on our side!" Remus exclaimed. "They can't punish him!"

"Tell it to the Ministry," the Potions Master replied gloomily. "We're currently trying to fight against them so they won't put Sirius there for being an unregistered Animagus."

Suddenly, everything clicked into place in Remus's head. "The Weasleys," he realized. "They're doing this to us!"

"They damn well are," Severus sighed. "The boy himself turned Sirius in, and the whole family, minus Charlie and Percy, is claiming that Lucius never attended to any Order meetings."

"Which he did, but under a disguise," Remus said quietly. "And which we can't prove in any way." He felt tears rolling down his cheeks, but was too tired and upset to care. "Damn them."

Severus didn't say anything.

***

Remus felt tears rolling down his cheeks. It hurt him to even think about that; it hurt.

And it'd been even worse when Lucius had come back.

***

24th of February, 1999

*

"Here's your husband, Mr. Malfoy," one of the Aurors said. "We're sorry for all trouble we've caused you." He didn't sound the tiniest bit apologetic.

Lucius merely sat there, his eyes locked on the wall. Slowly, Remus walked nearer, hoping desperately that this was just a bad dream.

"Lucius?" he asked quietly, placing a hand on his husband's arm. "Luce, please, wake up..." However, the blond did not respond. His eyes stayed empty, his expression blank. He did not show any signs of recognizing Remus.

"Uncle Lucius?" a little voice asked behind him. "Uncle Remus, what's wrong?"

"Hush, Philip," he sighed. "Uncle Lucius is... tired. Very tired." He could barely prevent tears escaping his eyes.

"Unca?" little girl asked, walking around the chair. She looked at Lucius for a moment, then at Remus. "Remiz is sad," she observed.

"Yes, Joyce, Remus is very sad," he confirmed, then bent down to pick her up. He hugged her against his chest like his life was depending on her.

"I wanna Unca Luc," Joyce said then, reaching her arms towards the unmoving body.

"I don't know..." Remus said hesitantly, then sighed. Maybe Lucius couldn't talk to the children, but at least he was there. There was no point to stop them being with their uncle. So, he gently put Joyce into Lucius's lap.

"Unca Luc?" Joyce said sweetly. "Unca Luc?" She hugged her uncle tightly. "Unca Luc, wake," she commanded gently. "Remiz is sad."

For a moment, Remus felt like the time itself had frozen. He surely had imagined the little movement of Lucius's eyes... Hadn't he?

Then, almost shocking him to death, Lucius's eyes snapped back to attention. "Joyce?" he asked hoarsely. "Joyce, why are you here?"

"You woke, Uncle Lucius!" Philip exclaimed in delight. "We can live with you and Uncle Remus, they said so! I and Joyce live here now!"

"Philip... Remus?" Lucius looked around himself, searching for his husband. At last he saw the werewolf, and, after gently putting Joyce on the floor, got to his feet. "Remus," he whispered. "I saw you... You were dead... They said you were..."

"I'm not dead," Remus said firmly, at last failing to keep the tears back. "Nor are you. And you're not in Azkaban anymore, either. You're home." He took a couple of steps forward, reaching for Lucius.

Lucius also reached out for him, then pulled him into tight embrace. "Remus," he whispered again, still sounding disbelieving. "You're here. You're real. You're alive."

"Yes, I am," Remus replied. "And so are you." He hugged Lucius tightly, not wanting to let go.

"Philip and Joyce?" Lucius asked then. "Why are they here?"

"Luciane is dead," Remus said emotionlessly. "And her husband went to Azkaban. Ministry officials found the children, and, you being their only living relative, brought them to me. They are the only reason I'm still alive," he added quietly.

"They live with us?" Lucius asked, sounding like he still had difficulties understanding what he heard, which most probably was the case. He looked at the children, who were watching each in turn; Joyce looking careful, Philip smiling broadly.

"Yeah." Remus loosened his embrace a bit, taking a step backwards. "Severus brews Wolfsbane for me, and he also comes over at full moons."

"And Sirius?" Lucius asked. "Harry? Draco? Are they all right?"

"Harry and Draco are more well than anyone," Remus said carefully. "Harry's only playing Quidditch his first year as a professional, and he's already being begged by every team. Draco's living happily with him, but Sirius..." His voice trailed off, and he bit his lip.

"Yes? What about Sirius?" Lucius looked carefully at him. "Something is wrong with him, right?"

"You're right," Remus whispered, now crying openly. "He's in Azkaban, too, Lucius. For being an unregistered Animagus. He got a year's sentence last October."

Lucius didn't say anything. Instead, he hugged Remus even tighter than before, tears rolling from his eyes also.

Joyce and Philip looked at them, not saying a word.

***

A ragged sob burst out of Remus's chest, and he pressed his head against the desk. He didn't honestly know how much more of all this he could take without breaking. This was too much; at first Olivia discovering the truth about Lucius's accident, and now the fear of losing the teen. Too much to think about, and almost too much to handle.

But not that much. Not yet, at least.

However, as his eyes caught a glint of light on the blade of his penknife, his fingers almost subconsciously crept towards it.

Just as his hand prepared to curl around the fine, ivory handle, another hand fell down on top of the knife, stopping him from grasping it. Raising his eyes to the intruder, Remus looked right into the sad, concerned eyes of his husband.

'I'm sorry, Lucius,' he thought to himself. 'I'm sorry for disappointing you yet again...'

'But I can't really help myself.'

~*~*~*~

This part of the chapter is from Lucius's POV.

~*~*~*~

Merlin, Remus... Has it already come down to this?

You avoid my eyes, not wanting to meet my gaze. Don't be ashamed, dear. It's not your fault; it's your curse's fault. And, as much as it pains me to say this, I cannot blame you for giving in to the curse.

I've seen what it can cause. Lycanthropy has a greater power over the werewolf than most people even realize. Maybe, one day, we shall find a way to break that control, not only during the full moon but in everyday life, too.

But by now, that's not possible. I can only fear, and hope.

Oh, well. I had a reason to come here. "I just received a message from the Ministry," I say quietly, taking the penknife away from Remus's desk and tucking it safely into my pocket. "Tomorrow, a trial shall begin. During it, we'll discover whether Olivia belongs under our custody, or the Smithsons'." Then, unable to hide the bitterness in my voice, I continue, "If we win that trial, we'll have another, versus the Ministry's Family Department. Weasley's going to give Olivia to any other family rather than to us; even if it means that some other gay pair will have her."

Remus nods slowly, digesting everything I said. He tries to keep up a calm mask, but he cannot; he's not as skilled in hiding his emotions as Severus and I. Even though he tries to avoid my gaze, I manage to catch the hopelessness in his golden eyes, and the despair.

The cold fingers of fear curl themselves around my heart. I remember all too well what has happened too many times I've seen those feelings in his eyes. By the first time, I didn't realize to watch him more closely. The memory of what happened next is still haunting me.

I almost lost Remus that time - and all the others, I know that. And I also know that I couldn't have prevented it. After the first time, I thought I could have, but later, I've realized that I cannot blame myself. I cannot blame anyone, since I cannot blame Remus himself for it; he's just a helpless victim of his curse.

Even if it was his own hand that pressed the knife on his wrists.

***

4th of June, 1995

*

Remus has been a bit distant lately. So, I decide to visit him, even though it's not my usual visiting time. Surely that's not a problem, though - I usually visit my lover any time I only can, so he's pretty used to my surprise visits by now. And, for anything I know, he likes them just as much as I do.

When I open the door of his cottage, the first thing I notice is the silence. I frown, becoming wary in an instant. It's never this silent when I usually visit - Remus has a little habit of singing when he's alone, so the silence never falls for a long time. So, if it's silent, something has happened.

Maybe the Death Eaters have attacked, and...

I command myself to stop that train of thought. Surely nothing is wrong. Remus has just gone outside for a while, or he's decided to take a nap - it's only a couple of days after the full moon. Nobody with malicious thoughts could ever get even near the cottage, thanks to the wards Dumbledore has set around it. The wards are strong enough; Dumbledore wouldn't risk his spy's loyalty by making the wards too weak.

Still, I have my wand in my hand as I quietly walk further into the cottage.

As soon as I step into the tiny living room, my nose catches an alarming scent. There's the smell of blood in the air. My eyes dart hastily around the room, searching for a sign of what causes the smell.

Then I see it. There, behind the couch, is a foot. As I half walk, half run nearer, I realize that it's Remus.

Remus, lying on his stomach on the floor, blood pooling around him.

A strangled cry escapes my lips as I kneel down next to him. I cannot help the trembling of my hands; I'm too shocked. As I carefully turn Remus around, I notice the source of the blood.

There are two tidy slices across his wrists. The cause of them is a little knife that I now see on the floor, its blade covered with blood, obviously dropped there by Remus's hand.

I whisper the first healing charms I can think of, then start hurriedly looking through my potions bag. After a moment, I find what I'm looking for - a mild Healing Potion, and a stronger blood replacement potion. Somehow I manage to get every drop into Remus's mouth and down his throat, despite the fact that my hands are still trembling.

His chest rises slowly as he breathes in, then it falls down again. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding in, relief covering all other feelings in my mind. With a murmured incantation, I clear all blood from the floor, then I lift Remus to my arms. Breaking the blade of the bloodied knife with my heel, I start carrying Remus around the couch to lay him down on it. After doing that, I sit down next to him, slowly petting his prematurely greying hair.

A quiet lullaby, learnt when Narcissa used to sign Draco to sleep, comes to my mind, and I start quietly humming. I have to concentrate on it; have to drive all other thoughts from my mind, since otherwise I'd be too overdriven by all the questions in my mind.

The time for the questions will come later. Right now, the only thing that's important is Remus, and the fact that he's still alive.

***

I hope I could at least say that it was the only time I've caught Remus trying to kill himself. Alas, it was not. Ever since our reunion, other than the time I was in prison, I've attempted to be as near to Remus as possible, especially during his post-full moon depression. Therefore, I've also been the first one at place when he's attempted suicide, too many times.

The whole of six times, to be exact.

***

20th of June, 1996

*

"Remus?" I ask quietly, pushing the door to the small library open. "Are you there?"

To my great surprise, I get no reply. So, I step inside, searching for him.

My heart misses several beats as I finally spot him. Remus, my precious Remus, lies on the cold stone floor, unmoving. In his right hand he's holding a small, black phial I recognize all too well.

I have to confirm my suspicions, so I run to his side, carefully taking the phial from his stiff hands. A quick sniff tells me that I am indeed right. Somehow, Remus has got the Draught of Nefertiti from my stocks and drunk it.

The question is now, can I still save him?

With slightly trembling hands, I point my wand at him, whispering a quiet incantation. Then, as he slowly rises to the air, I run to the nearest mirror.

"My laboratory," I command, pressing my ring against the cool glass. In a second, the clear surface of the mirror has turned into silvery mist. I levitate Remus through it, then step after him myself.

I have to be extremely careful now. The laboratory is full of silver, since I know that Remus strongly dislikes any laboratories and wouldn't go there - even though with the anti-smell potion he got full points in his N.E.W.T.S., he still very well remembers what it was like to him before. Fortunately, I've left the space in front of the mirror completely empty, and can safely lower my beloved to the floor.

Pointing my wand towards the stock shelves on the opposite side of the room, I murmur, "Accio Blue Crystal Liquid." I don't really trust myself to take the right vial, not when I'm this distressed and risking so much. My own life I would trust to myself, of course. But not Remus's. Besides, this is faster than running to the shelf myself.

In a flash, a little vial flies to my hand. Uncorking it, being careful not to spill a drop of the precious liquid, I take the vial to Remus's lips. Then I pour the liquid to his mouth, praying desperately that I was fast enough.

For a moment, it seems like I wasn't. A horrible numbness replaces all other feelings in my mind as Remus just lies there, unmoving, showing no signs of life.

After a moment, however, he draws a long, ragged breath, his whole body shaking in the effort. Mere seconds later he stirs and opens his eyes slowly, blinking a couple of times.

"Remus," I sigh, in more relief than I've probably ever felt. "Remus, thank Merlin, you're all right..." Collecting him to my arms, I embrace him tightly. It isn't until now that I notice the tears rolling down my cheeks, even though they most probably have started falling some time ago. For a moment, I'm shocked - I can't remember when I'd cried for the last time. Then I realize that I don't care, I don't care about anything, not as long as Remus is alive and safe this time, too.

"L-Lucius?" he whispers, now focusing his gaze to me.

"I'm here, Remus, I'm here," I reply. "And I'm not going to leave you."

"Oh..." Now, he notices my tears. With a quiet voice, he sighs, "Lucius, I'm so sorry... I know I shouldn't have done that, but I just couldn't help myself..."

"Doesn't matter," I say firmly, loosening my embrace a bit. "What matters is that you are alive, and here. Nothing else is important."

I just hope I could stop my heart from running.

***

20th of May, 1997

*

It's amazing how well two people who hate each other can get along when they really have to. I mean, my family and Black's have been the worst enemies about forever, and yet we manage to at least stand each other. Not that we had many options, anyway, with Severus being my best friend and his husband.

Black knows that I'm on the Light Side, as well as the truth about me being George Johnson. Because of that, and because of Severus, he's managed to accept the truce between us. Just as well, I manage to deal with him because of Severus - and because of Remus, but that he doesn't have to know.

And yet when I came here a week ago, he fell to my arms, sobbing and crying like a lost child. In front of Severus he keeps up a mask of calmness that almost makes me think that he's in fact a Slytherin, but otherwise, he lets his feelings come out.

And now, he can shoq his feelings even less to Severus. That's why it's only me with him as we both walk towards Remus's quarters - he's going there to talk with Remus, and it wouldn't do to have Severus around.

Remus. For all Black knows, I and Remus are some kind of friends. Friends, and nothing more. He thinks it began when I saved Remus from the Death Eaters after he got that silver burn, and we both let him think that. It's the better for him that way, after all.

I begin to fear the worst as soon as Remus doesn't answer. Glancing towards Black, I see that he's crumbling his eyebrows. Obviously he doesn't like the silence, either - we know for sure that Remus is there.

And as we open the door with a quickly whispered 'Alohomora' his Animagus senses catch the scent of blood just moments before I notice it. However, he's on Remus's side before me, kicking the pen knife away in disgust.

"No... not again," I whisper as I kneel next to my secret lover.

"What do you mean, 'not again?'" asks Black, glancing sharply towards me.

"I've seen this before, Black," I say quietly. "I've seen this before. Did you know he tried to kill himself soon after his silver burn?"

"So it was you he was staying with during his recovery?" he realizes.

I simply nod. "The Manor was the last place anybody'd looked for him at," I then say, trying to stay calm as I try to focus on the healing charms I'm casting. "Besides, Narcissa has basic medical education, and I'm one of the best Potions Master in the country. There was no better place for him at the time."

Black seems to doubt that, but he doesn't question my words. He just watches quietly as I at first finish healing Remus's slit wrists, then dig for a vial of healing potion from the bag on my hip. As I pour the potion down Remus's throat, Black says, "We should get him to the Infirmary."

"So we should," I say, putting the vial away and rising to my feet. Neither of us says anything, but still we understand each other in one shared gaze. We're not in the best of terms, but worry and concern for Remus drives all our differences aside for some time. Therefore, Black knows that it's up to him to take Remus's body to his arms, lightened by my faint levitation charm.

It's already late, so we don't have to worry about students seeing us. We hurry towards the Infirmary, neither saying a word. At the door, Black hesitates - that place holds some very bad memories for him, and very recent memories at that. However, as I glance at him encouragingly, he nods at me and pushes the door open with his foot.

I turn away, not following him in. However, my heart is all the time with Remus's unmoving body as I go away to inform Severus of what has happened.

***

18th of November, 1997

*

Draco's been bad, so I'm staying at Hogwarts for some time to put some sense into his head. At least this is the story everybody else hears if they ask for the reason of my visit to the school. The real reason, of course, is that I want to be near to Remus, but other than us two, only Severus and Narcissa know that. The other Order members think that I'm here by Voldemort's order, which is partly true - he's only happy that I am here, as he hopes that I might be able to kill Severus. This far I've managed to make him believe that a murder is impossible because of Dumbledore and especially Sirius, who never leaves his husband alone in my presence. That's half true also - if I didn't know better, I'd think that the Blacks are glued together.

It's quite amusing, in fact, how nobody seems to think of Severus as a Black. When I walk in the corridors, I always hear the students talking about Professor Snape, even though that hasn't been Severus's name for a year and a half now. He himself seems to be slightly irritated by that, but not too badly. "Once a Snape, always a Snape," he said when I questioned him about that. "At least I know I've made an impression on them."

Right now, I'm with Severus. We're going to visit Remus - or, more to the point, I'm going to visit him, and Severus is my cover. I try to look reluctant when Severus drags me through the crowded corridors towards my lover's quarters, even though I need all my willpower not to run ahead of him. Everybody must think that I'm being forced there by my friend. Nobody can know about us.

When Severus knocks on the door, nobody answers. Alarming memories come to my mind, but I force myself to stay calm. Severus knocks again, then simply whispers the password and yanks the door open. He pushes me inside, then slams the door closed behind us.

Remus is not in the room. Warily, our hands near our wands - or mine is near my wand, Severus's is near his potions phials - we walk further to the quarters. I slowly push open the door to his tiny library, and peer inside.

"My god," I whisper quietly. "This cannot be true."

But it is. There, in the middle of the room, is a single form. It is Remus - his feet two feet away from the floor. The reason of this is a rope, a rope connecting his neck to the ceiling.

In an instant, Severus is next to him. I murmur a simple cutting charm that cuts the rope, dropping my beloved to my brother-in-law's arms. Severus carefully lays him down on the floor, immediately starting to take the rope away from Remus's neck. As soon as it's away, his fingers search for a pulse.

I watch my friend, fearing the worst. To my great relief, Severus at last nods slowly, a worried expression still on his face. "He's alive, but just barely," he says. "We have to get him to the Infirmary."

I nod, already knowing that I cannot be with Remus when he wakes up. It pains me, almost as much as it pains me that I had to find him this way. Well, it's better that we found him in time, anyway.

Casting a lightening charm, I raise Remus's unmoving form into the air. I cast an Invisibility Charm - the students don't have to know what's going on with their DADA professor. Severus takes it upon himself to lead our way to the Infirmary, while I walk behind Remus, making sure that nobody runs into his body.

Pomfrey looks surprised when she opens the door and sees Severus and I. Then her astonishment turns into horror as I drop the charms around Remus.

"What - what did he do this time?" she asks with a wavering voice.

"Tried to hang himself," I reply, surprising even myself with how calm I sound. "Severus insisted that we should bring him here." Nodding slightly at Severus and then at Pomfrey, I say, "I have to leave now. I think that you are well capable of taking care of Lupin." Without waiting for her response, I turn around and walk away.

As soon as I get to my quarters I fall to my bed, unable to stop the tears that are falling from my eyes at an increasing pace. I cry for Remus because he felt like he had to do this, I cry for the fact that I almost lost him, and I cry for the fact that nobody can know how much I care about him.

Later, at the dinner, I hear as Minerva McGonagall hisses to Professor Sprout about how heartless I am, leaving a dying man without a second thought. But I don't cry, I cannot do that. I force myself to look steadily ahead, ignoring the witch's hateful whispers.

But when Severus later arrives to my rooms, looking very tired, and tells me that Remus will live, I cry for relief and sorrow and all the other feelings I have to keep inside. My friend doesn't say or ask anything, doesn't question my feelings. He just holds me until the tears have ended.

***

29th of October, 2001

*

My senses alarm me as soon as I step into the sitting room. Something is wrong; I know it. There's something in this room that is disturbing me.

And as soon as I see a foot from behind a couch in the middle of the room, so disturbingly similar to the sight I met when I firstly caught Remus attempting suicide, I know what's wrong.

Hasting towards him as fast as my cane and slightly aching leg allow me to, I curse myself in my mind. I knew Remus was depressed, like he is after every full moon. And yet I'd done nothing to prevent this from happening. If I now lost Remus, it'd be wholly my own fault.

And yet, how could I have been able to know that he was going to kill himself?

He lies on the ground, deathly pale, a tiny phial crushed in his hand. So, it's poison this time. Most probably from my own stocks.

Damn me. I should know better than leave my laboratory open and unattended this soon after the full moon.

I kneel down next to him, carefully placing my cane just next to me. If it rolled away, I couldn't get up by myself, and that would not do in this situation. With trembling hands, I search for a pulse. It is there, but it's very weak - almost too weak.

A sniff of the phial tells me enough. Not the Draught of Nefertiti this time, no; the potion he's drunk is just a simple sedative. It has some Wolfsbane in it - it cannot harm a normal human, thanks to the other ingredients' neutralizing effect, but to a werewolf, it can be fatal.

This time, I don't hurry to my laboratory. I don't have a medicine - why would I want to cure another medicine's effect? - and I don't have to hide my relationship with Remus. I can take care of my husband openly this time.

So, I take my cane and force myself to my feet. A quick charm lifts Remus from the ground and to my arms, and even before it does I'm already moving, carefully walking towards the fireplace. I throw some powder into it, calling for the Blacks.

Very soon, Sirius's head appears to the flames. As he sees what I'm carrying, his eyes widen. "He didn't -" my friend starts, then sighs, and shakes his head. "No, don't say it. He did."

"I need your help," I hear my own, blank voice saying. "I cannot get him to the hospital safely, I might accidentally drop him."

"Very well. I'll arrive there in a second." And truly, a few seconds later, he stands in front of me, wiping soot away from his clothes. He glances at my load, and I understand, handing Remus's unmoving form to his arms. Then I steady myself with my cane, since I almost fall down as a result of the shock and my attempt to find my balance again now that I don't have Remus in my arms.

Sirius glances at me understandingly. Then he nods towards the fireplace, and I understand, tossing some more Floo Powder into the flames. "St. Mungo's Hospital!" he roars, steps into the flames, and is away.

I follow him, fearing that all this has taken too much time. Too much of Remus's precious lifetime.

Half an hour later, I and Sirius both sit in the waiting room, as well as Severus - he arrived right after he heard where we are. The mediwitches and mediwizards cannot say yet whether they can save Remus or not. Therefore, all we can do is to wait for some news, some news about Remus's life or death.

I'm crying and I don't even notice it, not before Severus lightly nudges my side and hands me a handkerchief. I take it thankfully, trying to dry the tears that still continue falling.

I cannot lose him. Not this way, not through his own hand, and not at all. I've already lost so much. Philip and Joyce will never come home, and Kathleen was never born - do I now have to lose my husband also? Weren't my children enough to the cruel fate?

At last, a mediwizard arrives to speak to us. "Are you Remus Malfoy's relatives?"

I dry the last tears and manage to say, "I'm his husband..." His gaze immediately becomes a bit friendlier, and I begin to fear the worst.

"We're also family," says Severus as the mediwizard gives him and Sirius a questioning glance. Well, they are, in their very own, very odd way. But the mediwizard doesn't need to know just how they belong to our family.

"Very well." The mediwizard sighs, then says, "I'm glad to tell you that he will live. We managed to get all of the potion - or, a poison to him - out of his body in time. He'll need some time to recover, but he's not in danger of death anymore."

I let out a deep sigh. "Thank Merlin," I whisper quietly. The tears don't show any signs of stopping; instead, their speed and amount just increases. But this time I cry of relief and joy, not of fear and sorrow. And that difference is very big.

It's sometimes the only difference between life and death.

***

9th of March, 2002

*

Remus doesn't reply as I enter our shared personal rooms, even though I know for sure he's there. This, of course, immediately alarms me. With the recent events and the full moon just a couple of days ago, I've been trying to keep an eye on him at all times. Now, however, he's been unattended for an hour - and I might already be late.

The scent of blood seems to attack my nostrils as soon as I open the door of our bedroom, even though I know there must only be a slight hint of it in the air. Fear and concern are sharpening my senses.

Not behind a couch this time. No, he lies on the bed, the blood trickling from his wrists and colouring the white silk sheets a rusty red colour. For a moment I wonder how he got anything to slice his wrists with - wiser from the previous times, I've hidden everything sharp. I even have his wand with me; he himself pleaded me to take it just before the full moon, knowing full well what he could do. After just a second, however, I notice the solution. As he hasn't been able to transfigure anything into a knife or use magic on himself, he's resorted to another way and broken the small mirror that used to be on his night stand. One of the largest pieces of glass, its edges sharp and cutting, is still clutched in his hand.

I've got a healing spell on my lips almost before I have my wand out. Sitting next to him on the bed, I murmur the quick charm, then sigh in sheer relief as the fingers of my other hand find a faint, almost nonexistent, pulse. Of course he's not saved yet, but there's a good possibility that he might make it.

I don't know how long I sit there, watching him quietly, the blood pooled on the bed slowly spreading to my robes as well. The next thing I know is Remus stirring in my arms, then slowly opening his eyes, and instantly closing them again.

He cannot say anything, he just cries. I embrace him even more firmly than before, holding him tightly near to me, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear.

I hold him while he cries, and I cry myself, too, silent tears that fall down my cheeks and drop into Remus's hair, making it wet. He doesn't seem to notice.

The only thing he notices are his wrists. A wheel of healing magic is still whirling around each of his wrists, but it's still easy to see all the scars marking his skin. There are other scars also on his body - although less now, after his silverburn - but those aren't half as scary as these. The scars Moony has caused or those he's received in battles aren't anything compared to these ragged lines that cross the pale skin so many times.

Those aren't anything, since only these scars Remus has made himself.

I reach out a hand and trace every scar with my fingertip, gently and lovingly, then move my hand to his neck. The mark that was left there the time he tried to hang himself has almost wholly faded away, but some of it is still visible on his thin, pale skin. He turns his head away in shame, but I don't stop petting his skin, over the scars and to the unharmed skin, only to meet new scars on the way.

He cries, and I hold him, and we stay like that until we both fall asleep.

***

~*~*~*~*~

This part of the chapter is not from any particular first-person POV.

~*~*~*~*~

Olivia eyed the potion in her cauldron. "And now, I just add a lock of my hair?" she asked.

"Just that," Severus agreed, dropping a lock of black hair to his own cauldron. "Then, stir it twice clockwise and thrice anti-clockwise - just that way, right - and wait until you see the first bubble. After that, we have to bottle it."

"Right," the girl smiled, watching the potion closely. As she saw the first bubble coming up to the surface, she smiled smugly, then took the cauldron away from the fire. With the air of experience around her, she at first poured the potion into smaller pots, then from the pots into the small phials they'd labelled earlier that day. Next to his own cauldron, Severus was doing the same.

Severus glanced at Olivia. She seemed to be relaxed, which was the sole purpose of doing this. The previous day had been bad enough, with her at first discovering the truth about Lucius's pregnancy and then getting her memories back to her. She had to be calm in the trial next day, and as she was much like Severus himself, the best way to calm her down was to let her brew as complex a potion as possible.

And the Patronus Potion, if anything, was complex enough.

It wasn't like the potion took a lot of time to brew, no, a mere hour was enough. But all the ingredients, the way they have to be prepared, the order they had to be added in, it took a lot of concentration. Most people could never accomplish the potion. It didn't take super human skills, no, some of his students had managed to make it on their sixth or even fifth year, but it required a knack for Potions, which very few people possessed.

Olivia, however, truly had that knack.

Finishing corking his phials, Severus glanced at Olivia, who'd just done the same. "Now, they have to prepare themselves in the phials for some time," he advised. "In the meantime, you'd better read your notes over. The Voice Quills are useful, but sometimes people forget the point if they don't themselves write things down." As she obediently started to revise her notes, he cleaned both their cauldrons and the pots with a few drops of the Washful Liquid he'd brought with him. As usual, he didn't have his wand with him, and besides, Olivia needed to know how to live without wand magic.

Quickly glancing over his own notes, the Potions Master then started to check his own potion phials. Seeing that the brewery was preparing well, he moved to Olivia's potions. "It's now ready," Severus said then, raising one of the phials to the air and eyeing it watchfully. "You ought to try it."

Olivia nodded. "Do I just open it? Or do I have to do something else as well?" she asked.

"Well, you can open it," Severus replied. "These phials, however, are charmed to be unbroken. Taking them into a hand cancels the charm temporarily, so they become fragile. Usually tossing them to the ground is faster than opening the phial, and if you're in need of a Patronus, you also need to get it quickly."

"I'll try that, then," Olivia smiled. She took the phial and looked at it. "I'm curious to see what form my Patronus takes."

"I am, too," Severus smiled. He then nodded, indicating that she ought to throw the phial to the floor.

Olivia raised her hand. Then she brought her hand down in a quick motion, and the phial broke on the cold stone floor, shattering to thousands of tiny pieces.

A cloud of silvery mist broke out of the phial. The two watched in quiet fascination as it started to gather on one place. After a second, it started to take a recognizable form.

Suddenly, Olivia screamed and backed away, her eyes wide with fear. Severus's jaw hung open as he stared at the girl's Patronus.

It was the Dark Mark.

*

"The Dark Mark?" asked Lilian disbelievingly after hearing their explanation. "Are you really sure?"

"You think I could mistake it?" asked Severus bitterly. "Yes, I'm dead sure it was the Dark Mark. I can show it to you, if you want - and if Olivia can handle that," he added, taking a quick glance at the girl.

"Yeah," she replied, smiling faintly. "It was just the shock; I wasn't prepared to see it. From your stories I'd gathered that a Patronus is usually an animal or something."

"So it is," Lilian said levelly. "Mine is a falcon, Narcissa's a fox. Harry has a stag, Lucius has a snake, Remus, appropriately enough, has a wolf, and Draco's is a lion - most probably symbolizing Harry."

"And what about Severus and Sirius?" the girl asked, a small twinkle returning to her eyes as the fear slowly moved aside.

"Severus's is a panther, for all I know," smiled Lilian. "And as for Sirius... Well, his Patronus is a dog. Or, rather, a Grim."

"Sounds fitting," the girl said, smiling a bit, albeit weakly. Then, however, she frowned. "But why is mine the Dark Mark, then? Why it's not an animal?"

"Let's see it at first," suggested Lilian. "I'm in fact curious to see how that sign of Darkness can be a protector of anyone."

Without saying a word, Severus took a phial from his pocket, uncorking it. After a second, Lilian's eyes widened as she saw the silvery skull and snake. Severus stayed unaffected this time, and even Olivia only flinched a bit.

"Very well," mumbled the witch. "You're truly a special creature, little one. But it still doesn't seem logical."

"Say what you wish, but there must be a logical explanation for this," Severus muttered, eyeing the vanishing Patronus. "Let's see. So, a Patronus is supposed to be 'the heart's protector.' Olivia, whom do you think of as your greatest protectors?"

"Father, you, and Dad," she replied immediately, her voice wavering just the tiniest bit.

"That's it," the ex-Death Eater decided. "We're all connected to the Dark Arts - I and Lucius as former Death Eaters, Remus as a werewolf. And what'd be a better symbol for us, especially to me and Lucius, but the Dark Mark?"

"You mean, it's like you stood in my protection?" questioned the girl, managing a weak smile despite her still lingering shock.

"Exactly." Eyeing the girl and the cup of hot chocolate Lilian had told the house-elves to bring her, he said, "Now, finish your drink. Then we'll go and collect the other phials. You also have to finish your notes, or this lesson has gone for nothing."

"Nothing can push you off your track, right, Severus?" smirked Lilian.

"Not many things," admitted the wizard.

Both the witch and the Ciddle smiled at him.

*

Hermione tossed and turned in the bed. She couldn't sleep. The trial, which would start the next day, was distracting her mind.

Ron didn't seem to be distracted by her fidgeting. Her husband slept soundly, seemingly not worrying about the trial at all. Ron was sure that they would win the first trial, and that the second one wouldn't even be needed. If the girl wasn't under the Malfoys' custody anymore, there was no point suing them about not taking proper care of her.

Still, she wasn't entirely sure if it was the right thing to do.

Wait. Of course it was the right thing. What else could they do? Gays were dangerous, they were wrong. They were the reason Aurelius wasn't alive anymore.

...Aurelius...

***

5th of May, 1987

*

Hermione had always loved her brother. Loved, and adored. Aurelius was everything she wanted to be when she grew up, smart, good-looking, and kind. He was the type everyone liked, and especially his little sister. He'd always been kind to Hermione, helping her with anything she needed help with, talking with her, making her feel important.

Today, however, Aurelius was not there. He'd left with some of his friends earlier that evening. Now, it was late, and he wasn't back. Her parents didn't say anything, but Hermione knew that they were worried.

Even more worried they became as a police car drove into their front yard near midnight. Hermione peered to the door behind her mother's legs - she missed Aurelius too much to go to sleep - and watched the police officer with wide eyes.

"Are you Joseph Granger?" the officer asked. Hermione heard just her father replying that yes, he was, and the police asking whether Aurelius Granger was his son as her mother ushered her back to her room and then went back herself.

Some time later, Hermione's mother came to her room. The girl sat up on her bed as she saw her mother was crying. "What's wrong, Mum?" she asked worriedly. "Where's Aur?"

"Aur won't come home, Hermione," her mother had replied thickly. "Aur won't come home... Bad men did bad things to him. Aurelius is dead, Herm..."

And at that moment, little Hermione's world shattered into tiny pieces.

***

Tears stung in her eyes as she remembered Aurelius. Good, clever Aurelius, who'd been fifteen as he was beat, raped, and killed by some drunk men.

If she could help it, nobody else would have to suffer the same fate as Aurelius. Gays were wrong. She had to fight against them.

But still, Hermione couldn't help a sharp twinge in her heart as she tried to settle back to sleep.