Shown Like the Sun

Chapter 2

Carve your number on my wall

And maybe you will get a call from me

If I needed someone...

--The Beatles

***

"Bloody hell, Sirius, no," Althea pleaded softly as she opened her bedroom door.

Althea stooped to pick up the small bouquet of wildflowers Sirius had placed against her door. The placement of the flowers started the morning after her arrival--at first a large bouquet of roses, which Althea angrily threw at Sirius' head (according to her, he had ruined the prized rosebush and it was now lopsided). Next, he placed a smaller bouquet of roses against her door, which she placed in a Muggle blender, tapped it with her wand, and the three watched as the red roses were chopped into a red soupy mess (she needed a new blender, anyway). With each new day, the bouquets became smaller, and now, a new feature tucked inside the bouquet--a letter. It's becoming pathetic, she thought as she opened the folded letter. I can't take you back.... What life will we have if I do so?

"A half-life," she murmured, frowning deeply as she read the letter.

Althea's attempts at refusal were--by now--just as pathetic. Refolding the letter, which detailed his love for her and regret for what happened, she quietly descended the staircase and walked toward the kitchen. As she entered the kitchen, she felt as though she should laugh from the absurdity of the scene, but she did not. Remus sat at the small kitchen table, reading the Daily Prophet--periodically sipping a coffee--as Sirius, wearing one of her mother's aprons over his clothes, cooked them breakfast.

"Good morning," Remus said happily as he folded the Daily Prophet in half.

Althea gave a half-hearted smile.

"They believe he's in Cyprus," he added, nodding toward Sirius.

"Cyprus, ha!" Sirius laughed loudly as he turned over sausages in the frying pan. "Morning, Althea," he added and winked at her. "I reckon you're hungry."

Remus widened his eyes slightly and nodded for her to respond.

"You're wearing my mother's apron," she replied and sneered as Sirius cracked an egg into the frying pan. "Aqua looks awful on you."

"Can't seem to find my spare wand," he replied, cracking another egg into the frying pan. "Moony's awful at cleaning charms--"

"He's thirty-four," she interrupted, resting her hands on her hips, "use his proper name."

Sirius smirked as he separated the eggs with a spatula. "Right, Professor Remus J. Lupin is awful at cleaning charms," he replied and flipped the eggs into the air and back in the frying pan.

"You're such an idiot," she murmured, letting her arms fall to her sides as Remus frowned at her.

"You've called me worse," he sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Anyway, be straight with me, where's my spare wand?"

"Where you left it," she began to explain, her stomach growling from the smell of cooked sausages and eggs, and the smell of fresh coffee. "In your trunk in the attic--"

"I've already looked there," he interrupted, his tone slightly frustrated.

"I didn't touch it, if that's what you mean," she replied, peering into the frying pan. The sausages crackled, popped, and sizzled in the frying pan. "Look again, you have two spare wands."

"Two?" Remus repeated, looking at Sirius with surprise.

"I had a talk with Moody once and he said it was a good idea," Sirius replied dismissively, waving his hand to disregard Remus' surprise. He looked behind him to the frying pans and took a plate from the cupboard before him. "Almost done," he added and smiled as he looked to Althea's hand clutching the bouquet. "What will you do today? Throw them at my head? Ruin another Muggle device? Toss the bouquet into the frying pan? You did that on the third day," he explained and winked. "I learned right quick to eat before you entered. This is your breakfast."

"I'm not hungry," she replied--her stomach gurgling loudly enough for him to hear.

Sirius continued to smirk until she handed him the small bouquet of wildflowers. Taking the bouquet into both hands, he stared at her strangely--obviously unable to discern the meaning behind her nonviolent gesture.

"I'll have cereal," she replied, walking between them to reach her pantry.

Althea quietly took a box of cereal from the pantry and poured it into a small bowl. Returning the milk to the refrigerator she walked toward the kitchen door that led to the veranda overlooking a vegetable garden. Cold, soggy, unappetizing cereal, she thought, frowning at the cereal already turning to mush in her green bowl. No, you had to refuse the appetizing breakfast. Why? Althea sat at the small table, placing the unappetizing breakfast before her. Because Sirius would have interpreted it incorrectly, and now you must eat this awful cereal. She dipped her spoon into the beige mass and groaned. Taking the spoon to her lips, she sneered and let the spoon slip from her hand--it clinking and sliding into the bowl--submerging itself in the beige mass.

"Here," Sirius said, placing a plate next to her bowl.

Althea gazed at the plate, neatly arranged with two eggs, two sausages, and two strawberries. He still doesn't understand no, she thought, her stomach growling and gurgling at the smell of a more appetizing breakfast.

"You were always particular about breakfast," he continued, sitting across from her. "What are you waiting for? Tuck in," he said enthusiastically, holding up a knife and fork for her.

Althea kept her hands in her lap, refusing to take the knife and fork. "You're still wearing her apron," she remarked, leaning back in her chair.

Sirius lowered his hands, placing the utensils on the table. "I know you'd throw this plate at me," he replied, lifting the plate slightly--a sausage rolling into an egg.

"You don't know me," she murmured, kicking her heel against the wooden floor of the veranda.

Sirius laughed loudly, which caused her to jolt upright. "You haven't proven to me otherwise," he replied, picking up a large, ripened strawberry. "Throwing things at my head, calling me an idiot...being overly dramatic about everything."

"Azkaban's obviously stunted you," she replied coolly and Sirius' grip on the strawberry tightened. "You still have a feeling of entitlement. Where does it come from?"

"I forgot scathing remarks in an attempt to hurt me," he said with forced levity. "Here," he added, holding the tip of the strawberry toward her, "have one."

"No, I can feed myself," she replied, turning her face away.

"It's more fun this way," he replied, holding the strawberry to her lips.

Althea's stomach contorted and her mouth watered.

Sirius brushed the tip of the moist strawberry against her lips. "You used to enjoy this."

Althea roughly grabbed the strawberry from his hand and quickly shoved it in her mouth--its tart, sweet juices causing the muscles of her jaw to contract. She swallowed the strawberry defiantly as Sirius frowned at her.

"What will it take, Althea?" he asked grimly and bit the inside of his cheek.

"I'm going for a walk," she answered and stood, leaving Sirius and breakfast.

Her head bent, she hurriedly walked through her vegetable garden and down the path that led to her beach. Once a thriving sugarcane plantation in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, Althea imagined the Morrigan family ships in the distance, awaiting cargo from her small island as she sat watching the waves come ashore. Burying her feet in the pink sand, she remembered the stories she invented about her home and laughed quietly. When she was nine years old, she insisted the coastline contained treasure buried beneath the sand. Of course, she was not sure what part of the coastline, but she knew it was there. The pirates--after sacking Spanish ships in the harbor of Santo Domingo (Althea's father had told her once of Drake's raid on the Dominican city, but she could not remember the details to include Drake; therefore, she invented a pirate)--buried the treasure on her small island off Bermuda, but never returned. The ship sank off Cuba during a heavy gun battle with all on deck lost. To add to the dramatic tale, the pirates had left a curse on the treasure that only little girls with black hair and blue eyes could discover the vast fortune. I only included that part when my father insisted he look for the treasure because it could be too dangerous for little girls, she thought, laughing as a strong breeze blew the hair away from her face. He was a strong man not to laugh at me.

Althea smiled and closed her eyes, listening to the sound of the waves reaching shore. If only Dumbledore would allow me to teach Muggle Studies from here, she thought, the waves sounding like chimes as they receded across thousands of tiny shells. It wouldn't seem like such a useless class then.... Lesson plans for next year: continue informing Wizarding children of Muggle things so they do not look like idiots when they step outside...unlike their parents. To her, Muggle Studies was a useless class and the professorship of such a class just as useless. It took no skill to teach such a course and she reckoned that was the reason Dumbledore chose her for the mundane position. She had never meant to be a schoolteacher--a Healer, a Midwife, but her life did not follow the invisible plan she had established for herself. On the fateful night of Halloween almost thirteen years ago, her life changed dramatically. She was no longer a pregnant witch, semi-retired from her Midwife profession; she became a childless, drunken, mad shell full of self-hatred and ready to exact revenge. It took a period in Azkaban to break her, to show her how truly ugly she had become, and it took her grandmother and Dumbledore to save her.

She was functioning and happy, although to say she was flourishing would have been an exaggeration. She attempted to enjoy her work--often found the students entertaining--sought to bring unconventional ideas to a conventional class (the sixth year's production of The Crucible was an amazing success with the students eager to writhe about the stage "bewitched"), and discovered she had large amounts of time she could devote to her parents' research. I think I'll wait another week before I read Professor Kafka's new paper on his hypothesis of the biological component of magic, she thought, inhaling a deep breath of the salty ocean breeze. However full she forced herself to believe her life was, secretly she knew it was a lie; her life was a hollow casing of what it once was and she despised it. What she craved most in life was to be needed and to be loved. Now she had that opportunity--to be one of the only things that mattered--but she had refused it with every advance, every gesture of love.

Resting her chin against her folded arms on her knees, she opened her eyes and stared out to sea. She knew that if she turned her head to the left, in the distance toward her home she would see the crudely constructed Hogwarts castle Sirius had attempted to build from sand. She watched from the widow's walk as Sirius spent an entire afternoon forming the sand, and then swearing when the sand would fall or when the tide would wipe it out. Remus had joined him and the two soon started a friendly argument about how many turrets the castle had. It resulted with Sirius kicking over half of the sandcastle away as he told Remus there were forty-two turrets. Tired of the sandcastle, Sirius began to create a message for Althea. Next to the sandcastle, Sirius had written I love you out of shells, large enough for her to see from the widow's walk. Althea secretly smiled from the gesture once more, but quickly frowned. He was so proud of it though--it didn't matter he received a horrible sunburn, she thought, resisting the urge to look at it. I thought the tide would have washed it away by now, but it hasn't. The sound of feet shuffling across the sand interrupted her from her thoughts and the muscles in Althea's abdomen and shoulders tensed.

"I remember the first time I came here," Remus said as he sat next to her. "The summer before seventh year...do you remember? Well, I do. It was James, Peter--wait, Peter didn't come because his mother was afraid he'd drown--myself, Lily's sister--I still don't understand how she married that man after all we tried--Lily, Sirius, and you," he explained and laughed. "Do you remember the night you and Sirius became very drunk on this beach and Lily had to run out to save your honor?" he asked, gently nudging her.

"I became sick in the rose garden, and you and James had to rescue Sirius before the tide came in," she answered hollowly.

"Then, the time James caught a look at your backside in the bikini and blurted out, 'That's Morrigan! Sirius, that girl was Morrigan! You never told me it was Morrigan!' Sirius tackled him to the ground to stop him from talking," he reminisced and laughed again.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, watching a small crab poke its claw out of the wet sand a few feet away.

"You don't remember?"

"No."

"The summer before fifth year?" he asked and Althea shook her head. "You and Lily were on holiday in Greece at the same time as James and Sirius. Not knowing it was you, Sirius caught sight of your backside and spent a half hour describing to James everything he'd do to your backside--"

"Ugh," she groaned and scratched the tip of her nose.

"--He approached you and you turned to face him.... He was so mortified.... When James asked what happened, he told James the girl had an ugly face," he continued and sighed deeply, but happily. "You know, up until his death, James loved to find an opportunity to tease Sirius about it."

"Sirius ruined that summer holiday," she sighed, brushing the hair away from her face. "He ruins everything."

"Althea--"

"Why do you care so much?" she interrupted, turning her face toward him.

Remus remained silent and Althea slammed her fists into the sand from frustration.

"Just tell me that the night at Hogwarts was a mistake, that you never intended to date me, that you don't love me! Tell me it was the Wolfsbane--tell me something!" she said with exasperation, looking into his eyes.

Remus sighed, shaking his head. "If I told you, you wouldn't believe me."

"See!" she exclaimed, pointing her finger at his face. "You're avoiding it. Anything that's too painful for you, you brush it aside."

"Like what you're doing," he remarked and winked as Althea growled.

Damn you, Remus, for always twisting words, she thought, narrowing her eyes.

Remus brought his hands to her face, smoothing stray strands of hair away from her cheek. "It wasn't a mistake, I had every intention of dating you--the day after, I thought about where I could take you that weekend--and it wasn't the Wolfsbane. I willingly made love to you," he explained in earnest, gently wiping the tears trickling down her face. "I love you."

"Then--"

"It is the same reason why I resigned from Hogwarts; I was exposed as a werewolf," he interrupted, cupping her face in his hands. "Parents won't approve of a Hogwarts schoolteacher dating a werewolf."

"And they'll approve of one dating a supposed mass murderer?" she remarked incredulously. "You feel guilty, Remus. You knew--you knew you could not keep me a secret from Sirius. He'd discover I'd lived eventually, and how horrible would that be for him: you, with his ex-lover," she explained and removed his hands from her face.

"No," he replied, running his fingers through his hair--seemingly from frustration, "you don't understand. You've never been able to understand; not everyone is like you. It would be scandal and Dumbledore would have to fire you."

"Then I'll quit," she snorted, shrugging her shoulders.

Remus furrowed his eyebrows. "You would give up your opportunity to spend the next six years with your daughter?" he asked with disbelief.

"It's too painful," she answered quickly. "She'll never know who I am. Could you imagine the anger and hurt she would feel if she discovered the truth?"

"Althea," he began, wiping away new tears that trickled down her cheek, "you have a wonderful opportunity to be more to her than her adoptive mother."

"What are you talking about? I'm just Professor Morrigan."

"I've been a schoolteacher long enough to know when children do not connect with their parents," he explained, thoughtfully looking into her eyes. "She loves Mrs. Parker, I know that, but she connects with you. Didn't you see?" he continued eagerly with a faint smile. "She could have given McGonagall or Dumbledore the gift to give to me, but she gave it to you. She's a girl that craves attention and you can be that outlet before--"

"Before she ends up like me," she interrupted, brushing Remus' hand away. "You've ruined my summer."

Remus sighed as he scanned the sea. "I should return," he said and looked toward Althea, "Sirius is still looking for his spare wands now."

"Right, go," she murmured as Remus stood--his joints popping.

"We'll have lunch in three hours, I'd hope you join us," he offered and Althea grunted her response.

Alone, Althea looked toward the sea once more and sighed as a dolphin's fin crested above the waves. Does it help to know that Remus does love you? Does it help to know that if Sirius hadn't returned to Hogwarts that night you would be with him, she thought, resting her chin against her folded arms on her knees. Remus won't come back to you; his loyalty to Sirius is so strong...or regret. I feel that as well--regret. You let him rot there, Althea. Azkaban is a horrible, terrible place and you did nothing. He thought you were dead, but now, now, you have him back. He wants you and he loves you...but every time you'll look at him you'll remember. He's still so thin and his eyes...they will never lose that look--yours haven't.... Damn it! Why didn't he tell me of the Secret Keeper plan? He kept so much from me--how was I to know the truth, she thought, her frown deepening. You were a liability to him--to all of them. Althea sighed sadly as she lifted her head from her folded arms. Maybe I'll transfigure myself into a dolphin and leave this place, she thought as two dolphin fins crested above the water. Only, I'm not that clever.