The Hardest Word

A death is always a hard thing to take.

The death of love, of a lover, is perhaps the hardest thing of all.

Remus Lupin sat, staring into his empty glass and wondering if he dared take out the Firewhisky secreted in his coat. But no, that was not the way to cope, Sirius would have said, dark eyes twinkling sternly. Chin up, mate, you can get through this. Nothing's ever as bad as it seems.

Remus' chin was staying down at that moment, pressed into the table as he slumped over, hiding his face in his arms. He wondered dully how people could continue to chat and bicker merrily around him, when the world as he knew it was ending. It felt as though agony radiated from his whole being, surely, surely some of them must feel it too.

He sighed, burying his face further into his arms. It was silly, acting like this. They hadn't even been that close recently, not with everything going on in the Order. It was silly to act like a child when Voldemort could attack any moment. He smiled inwardly, a part of him marvelling that he still could, thinking he was beginning to sound like Moody.

"Don't tell me you've had all the good stuff already?"

Remus groaned slightly, pressing his nose into the crook of his elbow. "It wasn't that good, and no, I didn't have it all," he answered, voice muffled.

"Enough of it though," his companion continued. Remus squeezed his eyes shut, hoping if he remained silent and still enough, he'd be left alone.

Unfortunately, this particular companion had known him too well for too long. The scraping sounds of the chair next to him being pulled out shattered the silence, if not accompanied by any words. Remus grumbled a little and pulled himself up into a sitting position. "There, I'm still alive, I still have a face. Happy?"

Sirius Black raised an eyebrow. "Sure, but you look like shit."

Remus snorted at that. "I thought you'd come over to comfort me. Telling me that is not a comfort."

"Sorry, Moony. You've never looked better, really. I feel ashamed in comparison. And that unwashed smell is very attractive."

Remus shot him a glare. "That's not helpful either. And I washed this morning."

Sirius offered a casual grin, rocking back on his chair. For some reason, Remus felt a surge of jealousy rise within him. It wasn't fair that Sirius could be so happy. It wasn't fair that everybody could. "Clearly you didn't wash very well. Maybe I should show you how?"

If it wasn't for Sirius' immediate change in colour, from a casual pale to a deep crimson, Remus would have taken the suggestion as teasing. As it was, he blinked rather rapidly. "Ah - may- maybe," he said hesitantly, hating Sirius for putting him in this position.

The two front legs of Sirius' chair crashed back onto the floor. Sirius was now looking decidedly uncomfortable. He glanced at Remus a few times, as though hoping the latter would break the silence, but found himself out of luck. He cleared his throat, slowly returning to a more natural colour. "Any - Anyway, I suppose we should go and say our goodbyes to the happy couple." He hesitated once more, throwing Remus an uncertain look. "That is, if you're all right?"

Remus nodded, a smile barely touching his lips. "I will be," he said, surprised at the truth in the statement. He pushed his chair away from the table and got to his feet. "C'mon then, don't want them to think we've been getting up to anything."

Sirius' eyebrows raised a fraction, but he too stood, brushing hair out of his eyes. "Good point." He made for the door. As he left, Remus could hear him shouting, "Oi, Prongs, you didn't think you were going to sneak off without a goodbye, I hope?"

No. That wasn't like James. There had been plenty of times for goodbyes. Remus just hadn't taken them. The word had choked his throat when he had started. He had found that it was easier not to start at all, easier to pretend it wasn't happening, that James wasn't getting married. He shivered suddenly and wrapped his arms around himself.

Goodbye, James.