I Did Not Understand

Remus looked down at the graves, his expression unreadable. Behind his brown eyes, thoughts tumbled one over another, trying to make sense of what had happened. He'd been shocked to hear that Severus, of all people, had drowned himself in the lake. No one was quite sure why, no one could give the werewolf any ideas he had not thought of himself. All the clue they'd been given was the bear clutched tightly in his hands. Christina's bear.

He remembered Christina, three years behind them at Hogwarts, a bright and cheerful girl sorted into Hufflepuff. Brilliant, sneaky, playful were all words he'd heard people use to describe her. She'd always had a smile for anyone she passed in the halls, even him, shy as he had been. And the way Severus hovered over her when she'd let him.

And then came the day, during the summer of 1979... Tears blurred his vision. No one had ever thought they'd get her. She had been just a week short of sixteen, so bright, so full of life. And he'd seen her the day before she was killed - they'd met in St. Ives with a few of her other friends for a day out from under the ever-watchful eye of their parents, and her brother.

~~~ ~~~

"Remmy! Over here!" Christina waved to him, her smile infectious as she stood from the table where she was sitting with a gaggle of her friends. "I'm so glad you came." She pushed him down in the seat she'd been occupying, then dropped into his lap, startling him. She giggled at the expression on his face. "Oh, Remmy, I've wanted to do that for weeks now." She dropped a kiss on his nose, shaking her head.

"You're acting like a little girl again, Christi." Joshua St. Martin shook his head, the seventeen year old grinning as his girlfriend, Susanna Cadwell, elbowed him in the ribs.

"Sometimes he's impossible!" She shrugged,as Joshua's twin sister nodded in agreement. Joan St. Martin was the easier going of the two, the one who kept them out of trouble, though often by the virtue of some very fast talking and judicious lying.

There was laughter around the table, then Joan spoke up. "I thought you were going to bring your friends with you, Remmy. What were there names again?" The mischevious grin on her face made Christina laugh, and swat at her friend. "Oh, yeah. James and Lily, and Sirius. Oh, and I suppose Peter, too, but..." She wrinkled her nose. "I don't like him. He reminds me of a rodent."

Remus suppressed the jolt of fear and surprise her words evoked. Joan couldn't know of what his friends had done for him. Christina shifting position distracted him, and soon he was relaxed, enjoying the day as they went touring around St. Ives, ending up down at the shore to watch the sun set over the water.

Christina had stuck with him all day, and now leaned back against him, pulling his arms around her, a happy smile on her face. He grinned in response, feeling a little silly, but enjoying the feeling of her in his arms.

~~~ ~~~

He would always remember that day, the one last time he spent with her. Remus smiled in memory, his glance straying to the gravestone on his right. She'd touched everyone around her, and no one forgot her. Even now flowers were placed there, every day. He could pick out his own, and the ones he knew Severus had brought. That brought the frown back. Now, with Severus dead, there would be one less set of flowers...

No, he'd bring them. He wouldn't let the holder sit there forlorn and wondering where the flowers had gone. But why? He shouldn't have to bring them, not for years to come. If ever.

Why did you do it, Severus? There was so much left for you. You were a hero - one of the few that were still alive. You could have gone anywhere, finally have made your dreams become a reality? Why throw it all away?

What had happened in those last hours that had made him take this drastic step? What had made him take his own life, when there had been so much left for him to live for?

Remus turned away, leaving the cemetery, Apparating to Hogsmeade to make the walk up to Hogwarts. Severus's will had been a very confusing thing to read. What had he seen in the werewolf that he left so much to him? He shook his head, pausing on the top step, his eyes staring into the distance a moment before he pushed open the door.

Inside, he made his way down to Severus's office, where the door to the late Potions Master's personal rooms stood open, a mournful room crying to Remus, wondering where its master had gone, why he didn't return. Books lined the walls of the otherwise spar tan room, with a chair sitting in front of a cold hearth that spoke of long use by someone pursuing some piece of literature or the latest research paper. A well-worn rug with a pair of lonely slippers was spread over the floor between the hearth and the chair, and another door waited open for someone who would never return. Beyond that door would be Severus's bedroom, and his bathroom - likely as spar tan as this room.

"It mourns for him." The softly spoken words behind him made Remus jump, and spin, fear rapidly subsiding as he saw who was there. The younger man stared back, grey eyes clouded with sorrow. Draco had lost a mentor, a friend, when Severus had died.

"Are you sure you want to help me with this, Draco?" When the will had been read, Draco had gone to him afterward, and offered to help him to go through what was there, and pack it. He suspected the former Slytherin also wanted to be able to take home some memento of his mentor.

"Of course!" Draco glared at him a moment, trying to deny he was feeling as shocked and drained as the rest of them. No one had expected Severus to take his own life. Then his expression melted, his eyes lost and bewildered. Remus took two steps, awkwardly reaching out to try and comfort the boy. It was a measure of how Draco felt that he let the werewolf touch him, much less pull him in to cradle him like a parent comforting a crying child.

"Why did he do that? Why did he leave me alone?" The words were muffled by Remus's shoulder, and garbled by tears, but he still could understand what was being said. Draco had no one else, his father dead, his mother lost in a world in her own mind. His one lifeline had been Severus, and now even that was cut.

"I don't know." He kept his voice calm, even, soothing. Draco only continued to rant, pulling away from Remus to pace, gesticulating to emphasize some point or another, until he ran out of energy, collapsing onto the chair to bury his face in his hands, exhausted and no closer to feeling any better than he had been at the beginning. Remus went over, resting one hand on his shoulder.

"It doesn't get any easier, does it?" Draco looked up, his expression pleading for the werewolf to tell him that it would get better, that the pain would fade. That time would heal the wounds in his heart, make the hurt of loss go away.

Remus couldn't give him that hope, his own face giving away the answer, and drawing a strangled sob from the younger man. "Time only puts more distance between you and the events." His voice was soft, the pain of losing his friends - too many of his friends - lingering in it. "There's something else that makes the wounds scar over, instead of staying fresh and bleeding."

"But it does get better." Draco didn't look up, hope only the faintest of undertones.

"Sometimes." Remus looked towards the window, judging the time by the light outside. "They're probably serving dinner upstairs."

"I'm not hungry."

"I didn't say you were." Remus paused, then reached down to help Draco up. "But you need to eat something, or you're going to have the hangover from hell in the morning." That got him an confused look from the blond wizard. "Unless you would rather not join me down at The Three Broomsticks for a few drinks?"

A half-hearted smile came to Draco's face. "Are you suggesting we get drunk, sir?"

"It sounded like an excellent idea to me." Remus met Draco's smile with one of his own, and the other wizard nodded, preceding him out of the room, the two headed for the great hall for dinner.