One Last Marauder

One Last Marauder

The rain drizzled outside. The clouds had opened and let fall the sky in the form of water drops. Dark and stormy, was the roof of this day. No sun was placed high in the heavens to let light shine. It was hiding far from this place, behind walls of thunder and lightning. The booming claps of thunder filled the air, a fork of lightning lit the sky and illuminated the massive ceiling, dark and deep; filled with electricity and ice.

The ground had been turned to a sea of mud. The grass was drowned beneath millions of drops of water falling freely from the nightmarish sky. Flowers were like tiny suns, attempting to lighten the day. But a mere wash of water was enough to bury them in a freezing mass of mud and rain. The weeds were overgrown. They had been carelessly left unattended. They were long and strong enough to stand up above the rush of rain and wind; like miniscule towers sticking from the ocean of brown and green. The grass not soaked and drowned in puddles, stood tall and erect. They battled against the whipping winds and shown with the power of the plant-life.

A letter box stood, crooked, near an old wooden fence. Mail spilled from the jammed latch; wet and moldy from days sitting in the damp. Newspapers lay scattered about the path; dirty and dripping; some dates weeks gone.

Time passed on as did the rain. Puddles grew to streams trickling to the muddy road, then to rivers and lakes over taking the front lawn. Even the grass and weeds had given up to the roaring winds; just their sides sprouted from their watery graves. Lightning licked the skies. Thunder the dreary soundtrack echoing from up above. A small cottage sat in the midst of the turmoil. Rain lashed the stained bricks and scratched front door. The windows were curtained, keeping the flashes of lightning from entering the interior. One curtain was parted partially. A face peered out blankly. Eyes of pain and hunger for food you could not eat. The weather reflected this man's mind.

Thoughts battered his brain like the roaring wind outside. Memories pattered down on his soul like the endless rain falling from the heavens. Pain struck him like lightning hitting the earth. And every noise sounded like thunder to his tired mind. Streaks of tears ran down his cheeks. Dark hollows beneath his eyes showed that sleep was not what came at night. His eyes were bloodshot and pupils like pin-pricks in a sea of brown. They were a window into his mind. Showing the pain and turmoil that plagued his very being. A loss so great created a hole in his soul that once was filled with the barking laughter of a man like no other.

The room was barely lit; the only faint light came from the partly opened window at which the broken man sat, staring out at his water soaked yard, but seeing nothing. Empty liquor bottles scattered across the dirty floor, mingling with hundreds of old photographs and newspaper clippings. A half empty bottle of a brownish liquid was hanging limply by the man's side; he did not like the taste but he liked how it numbed his aching heart. He raised the bottle to his lips and titled it so the drink entered through his mouth. Lowering the bottle, he winced as the alcohol burnt its way down his throat.

The man's clothes were tattered and torn; filth clung to the thin fabric and stains were spotted over the front and arms. A short growth grew over his chin, a light stubble that added years to his age. A silent tear was let loose by a blinking eye lid. It ran a track down the whiskery chin and dropped, becoming another mark on his faded shirt. The rain kept falling, as did the salty tears. Thunder cracked in the distance as a devastated sob escaped the lips of the torn man. Placing his head in both his hands; the memories became like the lightning; striking down in random forks of fear.

A small card fell from the mans lap, fluttering to the floor in silence. Framed forever in photographic imagery, were three young boys. Two had heads of dark hair; one with it sitting about his head like a delicate halo, the other's sticking up in an unruly mess. The third wore a glittering badge pinned to his chest, his eyes happy and framed by a light fringe of brown hair. They were happy here. Smiling and laughing ;like nothing else mattered. Not knowing in just three years one of their number would be murdered leaving a son orphaned and alone; not knowing shortly after the demise of that boy, another would be imprisoned for thirteen years, his beautiful face ruined by the horrors of unspeakable terrors, he, too, to be murdered. The third had to sit back and watch as his two 'brothers' left his side, leaving him alone in the cold misunderstanding world. They were his first friends, the two who did not care about his curse but instead turned it into a kind of gift. They made his life bearable.

But now, now they were gone. He was left here, to be alone forever, as a werewolf should be.

Remus Lupin's shaking hands fumbled with the photograph as he picked it up. His eyes glistening and lip trembling. His eyes finally saw what was in front of him. Truly understood what had happened and that he could not turn back time. He watched his own face, smiling, caught in old times. He traced the forms of James and Sirius; their young souls later to be taken and lost. Crying out in utter defeat and complete misery, he ripped the photograph into little pieces. The tiny fragments slowly drifted to the floor, scattering across the thread-bare carpet; a friendship broken.

............................

The knock sounded like the boom of a cannon to his over sensitive ears. The glass bottle, which previously had been full, tumbled to the faded carpet and shattered. Cursing at his own stupidity, but not bothering to pick up the shards, he crept to the front door. An eye hole was stationed in the centre of the scratched wood. Placing his tired eye to the spy-hole, he caught the frantic face of Nymphadora Tonks; her outstanding bubblegum pink hair was a dead give away.

Sighing, Remus Lupin stepped back from the door and stood staring at it for a few moments. The woman's footsteps were heard pacing the front porch and her hand rapped once more. He heard her angry sigh and then nothing. Thinking she had given up, he turned to find another bottle to drink from. But a triumphant shout startled him into stepping on the glass pieces.

"I see you in there, Remus, I am not dumb you know!" Remus turned to the half open curtain and looked at the stern face framed in it. He walked towards it, his eyes never leaving those of the young woman at his window. With an expressionless stare, he shut the curtain with silent eagerness. Tonks shouted from the yard. Her voice cut short as a loud crash could be heard. Remus almost smiled. There had been a compost bin, old and rotting, sitting just out from the wall. And judging by the woman's annoyed growling, he knew the clumsy witch had tumbled once more.

Remus walked slowly to the kitchen, head pounding from the excessive amount of alcohol running through his blood stream. Opening the cupboard, he found it bare. Furrowing his brow, he opened the refrigerator to find it in the same state as the pantry. He continued searching the messy kitchen before grinning wryly after pulling out a half empty bottle of some ginger liquid. Sinking into a frayed green coach by am empty fireplace, he unscrewed the lid and gulped down a mouthful of the drink. He coughed momentarily before downing another mouthful. There was a sudden burst of light as the front door was pushed open revealing Nymphadora Tonks, wet and dripping, wearing a dark expression.

Once the door had shut out the glare from the clouds and the cool wind from outside, Remus glared at the woman looking around his home. Her eyes traveled from the discarded photographs and albums, to the endless number of empty alcohol bottles. When her eyes finally met his own, tears were welling in them. Remus turned away, still sipping the foul substance.

Without even registering what happened, Remus looked upon the floor, where his pain-numbing drink was running over the carpet from the shattered pieces of its enclosure. Tonks was standing straight before him, her hand thrust to the side. Remus looked from the floor to her scowling face and sighed.

"That was my last bottle. I will have to go out and get some more," he said, beginning to rise only to find himself pushed back down. Nymphadora Tonks kneeled before him, taking his hand in her own. He attempted to pull away only to feel her grip strengthen.

"Remus..." she began, looking deeply into his pained eyes straight though to his broken soul.

"Tonks," he answered in monotone. Her tears had stopped and her angry glare was replaced with one full of sympathy.

"I'm sorry-!" she started, before Remus cut her off. "What for? You haven't done anything wrong, except entering my home without me saying you could." He said blankly, straining a fake smile. She blinked a few times, her grip on his hands loosening slightly.

"Remus, what has happened to you?" she said. "It wasn't your fault, it was no ones fault except You-Know-Who's! You couldn't have prevented it!" A flicker of anger and pain entered the mans tortured gaze.

"What do you know? What do you know about anything?" he snarled, pulling his hand from her grip. She looked startled at first but then frowned.

"I know what it feels like to loose someone. I lost my mother and my brother in the same year. I loved them, Remus, and I loved Sirius! I lost him as well, just as much as you did!" she said, not bothering to wipe away the tears that were falling from her bright blue eyes. Her hair had changed from pink to a raven black. Remus looked at her, his expression still blank and eyes cold.

"I could have stopped it. I was watching them duel and seen Bellatrix fire that spell. In my mind I knew I should have pushed him out of the way but my body would not move. I watched him fall and heard the screams in my head. I could have saved him!" he said painfully, his voice breaking. Tonks re-claimed his hands in her own and pulled them up to her mouth. She kissed them softly, looking deeply into his broken eyes.

"No, you couldn't have. No one could. I was there as well. I watched them fight, as well as everyone else. But I also saw you dueling with Malfoy after saving Harry! We were all fighting, Remus. That's what we did. Sirius died fighting, the way he would have wanted. Not hiding out in his parents house, alone and brewing in his own misery like you are now! He wanted to die fighting for a cause, and Harry was that cause! He loved Harry, and he loved you! And I know that you and Harry would have died for Sirius, just like he did for you!"

"Sirius was my brother! I knew him from my first day at Hogwarts and he was one of the people that accepted me for who I am, a werewolf! He and James were my life! Then I lost James and I thought I would die. Then Sirius went to Azkaban and I thought he had abandoned me! And finally when I got him back, I've lost him!" tears were now spilling freely down the pre-maturely aged man's face. Tonks smiled sadly, wiping them away with her hand.

"You haven't lost him," Lupin looked at her, startled. "Every time you look at the night sky, at the one brightest star, you will see him. He will always be there, looking down on you and Harry. On us all. He will be always in you heart, living in the memories you have stored inside your head and preserved in the photographs on your floor. You are strong. And Harry needs you. If I hadn't seen Harry before coming here, I would think this was the worst place to be and you were the most devastated person I have laid my eyes on!" Tonks said, smiling slightly.

"What do you mean?" asked Remus, heart pounding horribly close to his throat.

"Harry is taking it much worse than you. After being left alone all those years then meeting Sirius and discovering one day he could live with him, Harry relied on him deeply. Then, when he died, he lost part of himself. I have watched him, every day. He walks the streets like a zombie. He is so thin and tired, he doesn't sleep or eat. He just sits on his bed staring at the wall. He doesn't open the letters we send him or even register where he is. Its like, he's only living for the sake of living. And you should see his eyes!" Tonks shuddered visibly. "The last time I seen them, they were the brightest green and sparkling. But now...now they are empty and dull. There is now sparkle or any remote sign of life in them! They are completely blank! I thought he would cry and shout at the world, but this silence is just unnerving!

When Remus did not speak, she continued. "He needs you Remus. You're all he has left, you, Ron and Hermione. You are the only ones who can bring him back to life. Assure him Sirius's death was not his own fault! He needs someone to be there for him, care for him and love him. You can take care of each other. Bring each other back and talk through what has happened. Member Sirius, Remus. Don't forget him. Please, he would not like to be forgotten." She finished, tears sparkling on her face. In a sudden rush, Tonks was pushed backwards as Remus Lupin stood forcefully. She looked up into his pained but sparkling eyes. A strange grin made his features haunting but satisfying to her gaze.

He spoke, in a voice of hurt, joy and yearning all in one. "One last Marauder"