One Day at a Time

The first hints of daylight were peeking through the windows of Gryffindor Tower, where every item in the room was dusted with the new morning's beams. The room had taken on a glow that made everything seem reborn. A calm, peacefulness filled the room. Even the timeworn, metal box on Remus' lap seemed newer in the sunlight.

For the first few minutes after Remus opened the lid, all he could do was just stare at the contents. There were eight items in all: four letters and four smaller boxes that were charmed to hold larger contents within, all prized possessions of the past. Somehow, they had all managed to survive unscathed, tucked away deep in the Forbidden Forrest. He gently ran his fingers reverently over the fragile and yellowed letters. He closed his eyes and put his hand to his forehead. He fought for control under the weight over the emotion that was again coursing through him.

Which should I open first? Am I ready to see their words again, after all these years? Peter, James, and Sirius are all gone or lost; this won't bring them back. Should I just take my contribution out and leave the rest?

No, Remus decided. He had to do this; he had come this far and he needed to do this. The only way to forge ahead was to face both the joys and the demons of the past once and for all. There was no other way, and he knew it. He smiled to himself as this realisation over took him; if he were to be totally honest with himself, he knew all along that this moment was to be. Time to stop hiding; time to really start feeling again.

Remus carefully lifted the contents from the box and spread them out before him. One by one, he would open the paired items. Almost twenty years ago, the four Marauders had written a letter to the others about their time together, and had also placed a memento of that time of their lives in the box. This memento was to be something of significance in their lives. It was to be something that would stand the test of time, something that they would all appreciate when "they were old and decrepit," as James had put it. The items could have been anything old or new. Each Marauder never told the others what he had selected. They had arrived in the glen that night, contributions already charmed shut. The question before Remus now was where to begin? Whose letter and box should he open first?

Siriu,s this idea of saving the memories of the Marauders was yours in the first place. Although, I'm quite sure you never thought the contents would be reopened under the present circumstances. I wish you were here with me now to see this; I wish all of you were.

"Okay, Padfoot," said Remus in a hoarse voice, barely above a whisper, "Since the idea was yours, I'll begin with you."

Remus picked up the letter and box marked "Sirius Black~~Padfoot". His fingers hesitated above the box for a moment as he sighed deeply before opening it. There was no turning back now. At last, he opened the box before him first and caught his breath as an item he had not seen in years, but recognized all too well glistened in the morning sun-Sirius' keys. He then began to read:

Remus held the keys up to the sun where they sparkled in the light. The tears that silently ran down his face were mixed; they were both tears of grief and joy.

You were always the survivor, Padfoot. You stayed focused through it all: The House of Black, Azkaban, being one of the most hated me in the wizarding world. Your independence was hard won. You have you freedom now, Padfoot. I know you are with James and Lily; you truly have your freedom now. No one will be able to take it away from you ever again.

Regaining his composure Remus selected the next item. The letter and box were identical to all the others except for the name across the front: James Potter~Prongs.

Could this letter be any more difficult to open than Sirius'? James and Lily may have been gone longer, but there was never a day that went by that Remus did not think of them. This was especially true after he had met Harry again.

"Well James, I guess it's your turn, my old friend," Remus sighed as he spoke the words aloud, simultaneously opening James' box. Soon another item was glittering in the morning sun: the golden Gryffindor signet ring that James always wore. James had told them all once that the ring had belonged to his grandfather. It had been forged in the shape of a roaring griffin that wrapped around the wearer's finger. The eyes, which were to rest just below the knuckle, were comprised of two deep crimson rubies.

God James, if you only knew...if only you could be here to see Harry. He is more mature and generous than we were as fifth-year students. His friendships are just as strong with two of the most wonderful people he could hope to know. Every time I look at him I see you and Lily...I'll not let him forget his legacy; although, he scarcely needs reminding. You would be so proud of him, this fifteen-year-old young man--

Then it hit him. How could he have forgotten what day it was? Harry was no longer fifteen; with the rising of the sun it was now 31 July, 1996. Remus was rediscovering the Marauders and having a spiritual rebirth on Harry's birthday. Last night's Blue Moon had really brought him good fortune.

There were now four items left: two of Remus' own and two that were Peter's. What should he open next? After a moment's hesitation, he picked up his own items and smiled at the recollection. Some things never change. What possession had he valued most all those years ago? Remus felt an old friend return, as he charmed open his own box and saw the contents. The simple leather bound journal contained within returned to it's author's lap. Remus then opened his own letter and reacquainted himself with the thoughts of his youth.

Remus sat very still after reading his own letter. He was mourning yet finding peace at the same time. The question was, did he stop there or should he risk ruining all the memories by opening the last items?

The Last of the Marauder...of all of us, I certainly never thought that it I would be me. Had anyone ever asked me, I always thought I would be the first to go. Without Wolfsbane, Lycanthropy would have taken its toll within ten more years. Although, am I the last? Peter still lives, if you can call what he has a life.

So, the moment of truth has finally arrived. Dare I open Peter's items? When did you change, Peter? Was it all just an elaborate game to play us out as fools even back at Hogwarts. Just what was it that turned you to Voldemort? That's one question to which I do not have the answers...no, I have to open it, or I will always wonder. Just please, let the contents be from the Peter I thought I knew, not from the Peter who betrayed us!

Remus cautiously opened the letter. He decided to wait to open the box until he had read Peter's words. Taking a deep breath, he began to read.

Remus found himself both relieved and intrigued by Peter's words. Clearly, they were written by the Peter he thought he knew, the Peter he had once considered a brother. There was no hint of the betrayal to come in his words, but who was Peter's confidante? The words of advise were truly insightful and wise, but they were also oddly familiar. Remus could almost place their source; it was just on the edge of his mind, waiting to be grasped.

Peter's confidante is destined to remain a mystery. It's not a question I am likely to ask him should our paths ever cross again; there will be little need for conversation then. What is it, though, that these words of wisdom inspired him to do?

With great trepidation, hands shaking, Remus charmed open the final box. The contents were strange. The first item to catch his eye was a bottle of mead; from the markings, he could tell that it came from The Three Broomsticks. The other item was a gift-wrapped box bearing a seal that read: Revere Landsea, Purveyor of Fine Silver since 1665. He opened the lid and was amazed at what he found inside: a finely wrought, silver goblet. The base and stem were in the shape of a griffin sitting on its haunches, holding up the cup portion in its enormous paws. The goblet itself had the words Marauders 1971-1979 encircling the entire goblet just under the lip. Lastly, there were four figures carved around the cup: a rat, a wolf, a stag, and a dog. It was a marvelous depiction of what had been.

Remus sat upon the hearthrug for a very long while, still spent from the transformation, and lost in the emotion of his newly unearthed treasures of the past. Out of the anger, frustration, longing, and grief eventually arose a sense of acceptance and peace. It wasn't as if he would never feel those emotions again, but he was finding new resolve to go on. He was alive, and there was a future to fight for.