Pardon Me, But Have We Met Before?

Chapter 3: Angel of Hope

Remus looked around the Leaky Cauldron dejectedly. It was Christmas Eve and even the dreary old place looked all spruced up with festive cheer. In fact, it was cheerful to the point of being irritating when all he wanted to do was drown himself in Firewhisky.

He had chosen this place over a Muggle Bar as he knew that he could count on Tom, the barman, to put him up in one of the rooms if he passed out.

What Remus wanted to do more than anything was to avoid people noticing him. The looks of pity that they sent his way with the suspicion that followed, was driving him crazy.

He could almost read their thoughts from the looks on their faces.

It always started with pity. They thought of his friends who had died in the space of a day, and, just when they had labeled him as desolate, the thought that the reason for his friends' demise was another friend would strike them. They usually frowned at this juncture and then started searching his face suspiciously. If this is the only one left, they began to conclude, then, he too must have been a traitor. And after that, with a shudder and a frightened look they would turn away, casting furtive looks at him, till he passed them.

Sometimes, Remus had wished that he could chase them with a wand and hex them badly, but being a gentleman, he just ignored them.

This season really depressed him. He flinched when people wished him 'Merry Christmas'. He shuddered to see the decorations and bright lights. And if he heard one more 'Ho! Ho!' in his desperation, he would have bitten off that ruddy head, beard and all.

The truth was, Remus did not have anybody to celebrate Christmas with.

His mother had passed away the previous year. Though she had suffered ill-health, her end was quite peaceful. Her only regret in life was that she could not see her son well-settled, with a steady job and a family of his own. She had always told Remus that he was lucky to have friends, who were like family. She had known that they would rally around him after her demise.

And they did. Remus was not given time to brood by his friends and the greatest joy of their lives was Harry's birth. The endless fights the men had as to who would hold Harry till Lily snatched him away; the competition to see who Harry smiled at the most number of times; the daily guesses of who he would look like when he grew up, all in some way, brought cheer to the grieving Remus.

Much as he didn't want to, Remus's thoughts kept wandering back to last Christmas Eve, where all his friends had gathered at the Potters' to bring in Harry's first Christmas.

He thought about the loss of all his friends within a day, two months back on Halloween. Three friends and one who turned out to be an enemy. He shuddered at the thought of Sirius and quickly downed a glass of Firewhisky.

Remus had not wanted to be disturbed. So, he had taken a table in a secluded corner. What he wished for was anonymity, but had settled for altering his appearance slightly and wearing a hood.

He looked around the Leaky Cauldron disinterestedly.

There were small gatherings at many tables, celebrating over a Christmas Eve dinner. There were some regular patrons over by the bar. One seemed like a hag with her face swathed in cloth. But on a hopeful note, she had pinned on a sprig of mistletoe to her hat.

Now, that is what is called optimism, thought Remus wryly. There was something about this season that made people so positive, so hopeful. As if they knew that their wishes would be granted.

But hope was not a word in Remus's vocabulary right then. He did not know what he should hope for. Too many things had happened.

He wished that the hag would at least get kissed. That seemed like the lark that his friends would have embarked on. James would have dared one of them to go and kiss the hag, and Sirius would have willingly accepted the dare...

Wait a minute! He was talking about friends. When did that traitor, Sirius, weasel his way into his thoughts?

He sighed in frustration. It was impossible to think about his friends without thinking about Sirius. They were all involved with each other far too much, that this act of betrayal seemed like a rape of the very foundation that friendships were built on.

He couldn't believe that Sirius could have done it but the evidence pointed otherwise. Not to forget the massacre of Peter and all those Muggles. Who would have imagined that Peter, who was even scared to roam the hallways of Hogwarts alone at night, would stand up to Sirius and die a hero?

What puzzled Remus was that Sirius had not even attempted to contact him, to tell his side of the story. He decided that maybe, Sirius's guilt was making him silent.

With inevitability, his thoughts turned back to their last happy times together - last Christmas.

It was indeed Harry's first Christmas. But James had dubbed it as a 'Cheer up Moony Christmas'.

They all had a lovely time buying gifts for Harry and each other, filling Peter's stockings with gift-wrapped dung-bombs, and enjoying the feast that Lily had prepared.

He remembered the conversation clearly as if it had been yesterday ...

'...and so, I have hidden the toy broomstick inside a Muggle rocking-horse, that Lily bought,' finished James triumphantly. He was discussing one of his gifts for Harry.

'But James,' protested Remus, 'he's hardly five months old, and has not even mastered crawling, let alone walking. How do you plan to make him fly?'

'Start them young!' said James nonchalantly. 'I want him to fly before he can walk. The broomstick comes with all toddler protection gear that you could think off. And Lily would never guess where I have hidden...'

'What have you hidden?' interrupted Lily as she entered the room.

'Oh! Your Christmas present.' James looked sheepish.

Lily snorted. 'Hidden, indeed! It's most likely something to do with Quidditch and that is a major surprise!'

'Aw, Lils honey!' said James sheepishly, but thankful that the subject of the toy broom was hidden.

Lily thanked them all for the lovely gifts they had showered on Harry.

'But you know,' Sirius had declared, 'Harry already has the greatest gift of all.

Me, his godfather!' Sirius threw his chest out and thumped it in pride.

The next five minutes was spent in thumping Sirius speechless, while Lily looked on amused, with Harry in her arms.

When peace reigned finally, Sirius protested weakly, 'But I am the best present Harry could have. I look forward to educating him in the ways of the world when he grows up. You know, talk to him about the birds and the bees,' he finished with a sly wink at James, waiting for Lily's outburst.

And Lily really exploded. 'You!' Lily pointed an accusing finger at Sirius. 'James, this is why I told you that Remus would have been a better godfather to Harry. I shudder to think of how Sirius will corrupt Harry when he grows up.'

'Remus!' laughed James. 'Old, Abbot Moony?' He shook his head. 'When it comes time to explain about life, Remus will give him a lecture about avian and insect life with charts and an encyclopedia for reference. When I am there, Harry does not require anybody else.'

'Yes, he sure does. Me!' replied Lily. 'Only I can tell him what not to do, based on the famous example his father has set.'

'Come on Lils,' pleaded James, 'I was not so bad, was I?'

Remus was interrupted in his recollections by the shadow of a pair of antlers falling across his table.

He was so caught up in his memories that for a moment he thought it was his dead friend.

He turned to look but was dazzled by the light shining into his eyes.

'Prongs?' he enquired anxiously. 'Prongsie?'

'No, Tonksie!' piped up a small voice.

Remus slowly managed to focus on a face that came up to just above the table top. And it was a very strange face.

It was evidently a young girl, maybe nine or ten years old. But she had on a pair of felt antlers and something akin to a pink tomato for a nose.

'What are you?' questioned Remus. The incongruity of this statement struck him even in his drunken state. 'Who are you?' he amended gently.

'Tonksie!' replied the girl enthusiastically. 'I thought you were calling me.' Seeing Remus's puzzled look at her appearance, she smiled and said, 'I'm Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. I like pink better. So my dad changed my nose to pink!'

Remus couldn't help smiling at the girl's statement. He was shocked out of his drunkenness at the question the girl posed next.

'Are you also playing Rudolph? Your nose is red!'

Remus thought of the amount of Firewhisky consumed and sobered up immediately. He made an effort to look alert and less drunk in front of this girl who seemed to be comfortably chatting him up.

'No, love, I have a cold!' he managed, casting a quick spell to dry up the smell of Firewhisky on him.

'Why are you alone on Christmas?' questioned the girl curiously.

'I have lost people close to me,' said Remus somberly. 'I do not have anyone to celebrate Christmas with.'

'Oh!' said the girl, lost in thought. After a long silence she added, 'I too lost someone very close to me. Mum said that he has gone far away.'

'But I am sure he will come back if I want him to,' continued the girl, 'he has never said no to me.' The conviction of the girl astounded Remus.

He thought about the way the mother had couched the word 'death' as 'a place far away'. And he marveled at the girl's hope that she could bring back a person from there. Maybe, hope was stronger when you were a child, uncorrupted by the realities of daily life?

'You can join us at our table,' offered the girl.

'Thanks, love! But, no. I wish to be alone.' Remus felt he was brushing off the tentative hand of friendship that the girl was offering, but he couldn't help it. He did want to avoid people.

To tone down his refusal he tentatively said, 'I think it is wonderful of you to stop and chat with a lonely person who has lost all his friends.'

The girl smiled at him and said, 'My dad says that people do not leave you till they leave your heart.'

These words sent a jolt of electricity down Remus's body. He suspected that somewhere in his heart, he believed that Sirius was innocent and that he would never betray his friends. Is that why he was still thinking of Sirius in the 'friends' context? Was there something more to Sirius's betrayal than met the eye, he pondered.

He was sure that the girl's father had meant it in a different sense. But for him the context of the words seemed to apply to his present situation.

'Mister!' the girl tugged on Remus's sleeve. 'Are you ok?'

Remus realized that he had gone pale with shock and given the girl a fright.

'I am fine, love,' he smiled warmly. 'You have given me a lot to think about.'

'Here!' said the girl, unbuttoning a small rosette with a picture of Rudolph from her coat.

'This will cheer you up! Just press the nose,' she said, suiting action to her words.

The reindeer started squeaking Christmas greetings and wishes of peace, hope and joy.

'Honey!' interrupted a voice. 'What are you doing here?'

Seeing Remus in conversation with his daughter, the father asked, 'I say, Sir! I hope she is not disturbing you. She is a real chatter-box!'

'Not at all, sir!' replied Remus getting to his feet. 'In fact, she has cheered me up and given me the best Christmas gift possible!' The father looked puzzled at the rosette in Remus's hand.

'No,' Remus said, waving the rosette away, 'Hope! She has given me hope! She is an angel!'

The father looked at Remus as if he ought to recognize him. To avoid the same, Remus bent down and thanked the girl.

With cheery goodbyes, the father and daughter turned away and began walking back to their table.

The father suddenly stood still and took his daughter's face in his hands and examined it thoroughly.

'What happened, Dad?' enquired the girl anxiously.

'Are you my daughter?' questioned the father, with a mock-serious face. 'He called you an angel!'

'Dad!' chided the girl with a grin that lit up her face. She linked her arm with her father and skipped back to their table.

Remus watched the easy camaraderie the father and daughter shared and sighed wistfully. What he would not do for such closeness to another soul!

He turned back to his drink in a contemplative mood, thinking over this evening.

He had started out thinking the vilest thoughts about Sirius.

He knew that it was easier to forgive an enemy than a friend who stabbed you in the back.

He knew that it was easier to accept the death of loved ones. After all, they were in a war then, and fully aware of the danger around them.

What was most difficult for Remus to accept was a friend's betrayal; a brother who sold you to the enemy.

It was this very betrayal that had driven all hope out of Remus's life. But suddenly, he felt a new surge of energy.

He questioned himself. What if we had been wrong? What actually happened that day? Was Sirius framed for a crime he did not commit?

The capacity for hope is the most significant fact of life. It provides human beings with a sense of destination and the energy to get started*, Remus thought.

He drank with renewed vigour. He was not drowning his sorrows now. He was a man on a mission.

Remus decided to stay over at the Leaky Cauldron and took a room for the night. He toyed with the rosette in his hand as he prepared to sleep. It was quite run down by now, but still squeaked out the odd greeting or two when pressed.

In his state of inebriation, he couldn't recollect much of the conversation he had held with the person who had gifted him the rosette, or the presenter herself. All he recollected were the antlers and a ridiculous nose. He also knew that the words she had uttered had come from her heart and had filled his life with renewed energy and direction, though he couldn't recall the exact words.

He understood the true magic of Christmas then. That of the joy of brightening other lives and supplanting empty hearts and lives with generous gifts*. He learnt it from who should certainly be, a Heaven-sent girl.

'Angel of Hope!' whispered a voice in his ear.

Remus smiled.

* * *

Author's Notes:

* Quotation 1: The capacity for hope is the most significant fact of life. It provides human beings with a sense of destination and the energy to get started. - Norman Cousins

* Quotation 2: The joy of brightening other lives, bearing each others' burdens, easing other's loads and supplanting empty hearts and lives with generous gifts becomes for us the magic of Christmas. -W. C. Jones

When I had planned this chapter, I had no idea that it would be up around Christmas time. I thank Kerichi for enlightening me on some Christmas traditions. If I have erred somewhere or portrayed something wrongly, the error is fully mine, as Christmas is not a festival that I celebrate, being of a different faith. However, I admire the spirit of this festival and have put up a small Christmas tree for my daughter's sake. She is engrossed by the fairy lights and a fat, bearded man whom she calls 'Tansa'!

Merry Christmas to one and all!

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