Survivor's Guilt: Moony's Tale

Christmas was always a hard time for Remus. He was at heart a traditionalist and had certain ideas about how Christmas should be, most of which involved being surrounded by friends and family, warmth and love. Of course, he had not had a Christmas like that in thirteen years.

Sometimes he tried to go home -- tried to spend Christmas with his parents and Natalie and her family -- but his parents had taken a very dim view of his relationship with Sirius and that still hurt, especially when every time they saw him they asked if he was seeing anyone special, because they knew a nice young lady who would love to meet him. Natalie was sweet enough, but they had grown apart and her little boy barely knew the uncle he resembled so much, and Remus had overheard her telling his parents that she hoped her son would be "normal". He preferred not to think about what she meant by that.

That last Christmas with the Marauders had been wonderful. He and Sirius had spent it with James and Lily and baby Harry in Godric's Hollow. Peter had been invited as well but said he had already agreed to spend Christmas with his mother.

Remus remembered with longing the twinkling tree, presents heaped high around it (most of them for Harry, of course), and its moving ornaments which had so captivated the baby. The house had been filled with the mouthwatering aroma of Christmas dinner cooking and later Lily's special biscuits: tiny red and green cinnamon-flavoured reindeer that actually walked about on slender legs, their red noses glowing and blinking. Lily had always been a great one for charms.

Remus could remember how she had beamed with pride when she brought them out. Harry had crowed with baby delight and grabbed for one, which had skittered out of his reach to the other side of the plate. He had looked as though he was just about to start wailing when his father had swooped in and grabbed one, presenting it directly into Harry's fat little hands. Remus remembered the toothless baby grin as Harry had put the biscuit in his mouth, not noticing that as he did so it became as inanimate as any other biscuit.

James had looked up at Lily with love in his eyes and taken her hand. "They're brilliant, Dear," he had said. "You're brilliant. Honestly, Lily, you should write your own book of cooking charms. Really, Sirius, she comes up with such clever ideas. She's going to make me rich some day." And then he had grabbed her around the waist, making her squeak as he pulled her into his lap. "That's my girl!" he had said. "She makes wonderful squeaking noises as well, but those are just for me!" Baby Harry screeched and giggled at his parents' antics, drooling cookie crumbs all down his front.

The scene faded in Remus's mind and his smile with it. It was cold in his rooms. There were no decorations or any indication that it was the holiday season; only that it was deep, dark winter. He shivered. This time of year there was hardly any daylight at all so far north and the cold was a damp one.

He had considered joining in the Christmas Eve feast for those few who had decided to stay at Hogwarts over the holidays. Harry would be there, he knew. But he did not feel like very good company tonight. He would have liked to spend Christmas with Harry but he knew that the last thing a thirteen year old boy would want during the holidays was one of his teachers hanging about. Harry had friends of his own and they were bound to have a better time without having a chronically depressed adult impose upon them.

Besides, Remus told himself, I haven't even got him a present. For one thing, he had no idea what boys of thirteen wanted these days, and for another, he had little enough money as it was. Thirteen years ago he and Sirius had gotten Harry a toy snitch for his first Christmas but they had had Sirius's inheritance from his uncle at their disposal in those days. Of course Harry had been much too young for such a toy though it was larger, softer and slower than a real snitch but James had been delighted by the gesture and had spent hours trying to teach Harry to catch it, and certainly the golden ball whizzing about the room had delighted the baby.

James had felt sure that Harry was going to play for England one day and he often said he looked forward to box seats at the Quidditch World Cup in his old age. "If fact," James had once joked, "in twenty years time, they'll have to rename the England team "the Potters". I'm going to teach all the sprogs to play. They'll be bloody fantastic, just like their old man." He had flashed a grin at Lily which now echoed on Remus's own lips before fading. James and Lily had already been talking about having another baby when .... Well, it had not happened and the England team would just have to do without all that amazing Potter talent.

Remus sighed. I'd be alarmingly bad company tonight, he thought. Best thing for everyone if I don't inflict myself on people. He knelt down to start a fire in the hearth instead. It looked like another Christmas alone for Remus. Well, he was used to it. And even if his mood improved tomorrow he would have to miss Christmas dinner on account of the full moon.

He stood up, shivering. It would be some time before the fire had any effect on the chill in the room. Perhaps he would go for a walk to warm up. He thought if he stayed in the northern part of the castle he would have less chance of encountering anyone, so he started in that direction walking quickly.

His steps slowed as he reached the base of the North Tower. If I remember correctly .... Checking behind one of the tapestries that hung near the stairs he found a door. It was locked but a quick "Alohomora" gained him entrance and he was soon standing in a cold, dark and musty-smelling corridor. This part of the castle was not currently in use which meant he was almost guaranteed his solitude.

He walked down dusty hallways past disused classrooms -- some of which were now being used for furniture storage, he saw through partially-open doors -- around shadowed corners, up uneven steps, stooped through low doorways and tried all the time to think of nothing at all.

He had managed to live his life wrapped in layers of gray numbness for the past several years. The pain no longer sharp but still a dull, throbbing ache that underlay his every waking moment. However, the combination of being in this place, of seeing Harry -- so much like James -- and most especially of being confronted almost daily with both talk and images of Sirius, not to mention the familiar canine smell which still clung to his bedclothes, had brought the pain and memories sharply into focus once more. There was very little he could think about without feeling his throat tighten, his chest ache, his eyes burn. So now as he walked, he allowed his mind to think only of the hardness, the colour, the age of the stones, the scent of dust and damp and nothingness.

He was more or less successful in this until a flicker of motion caught his eye through the door of one of the darkened rooms. Hoping to find something to engage his attention for a few moments he went to the door and pushed it open. What he found caused the blood to drain from his face and weakened his knees almost to the point of collapse.

There was a single object in the room: a mirror.

Erised, his memory supplied. He should turn around and walk away, he knew. He should go back to his rooms and lock the door and forget he had ever found the damn thing. But the mirror drew him. What would he see this time?

But this time, looking in the mirror, he already knew what he wanted: Sirius. But a brave and loyal Sirius -- the Sirius he had thought he knew -- the one who would rather have died than to see his friends hurt and do nothing. He wanted James and Lily alive and well and raising Harry. I want the last twelve years of my life back, dammit! I want the balance of good and bad everyone else gets. Just a normal life. Friends, family, love. A few small daily triumphs and tragedies. This great, gaping loneliness to leave me ....

The images that swam to the surface of the mirror were not surprising to him but thinking a thing is very different from seeing it. At first what he thought he was seeing was that Christmas long ago in Godric's Hollow. There were the four of them sitting around the tree, their heads bent close in talk. Then a dark head raised and Sirius looked out of the mirror directly into Remus's eyes and smiled that wonderful, mischievous smile of his, those gray eyes sparkling under dark, expressive brows.

It was not Christmas of thirteen years ago. There was Harry, come to sit between his parents, looking very much as he did now. No, there were differences. The scar on Harry's forehead was missing. His glasses were new and of a shape and style that suited him. His hair was a bit longer.

And now that he looked at them closely Remus saw that they were all older. Lily and James. Was this truly how they would look if they were alive today? Lily did not look so different from how he remembered her though she was obviously now more woman than girl. She was still pretty and slim but her hair was cut so that it brushed her shoulders rather than falling nearly to her waist. James's hair seemed to be lying reasonably flat and was going attractively gray at the temples. He had just opened a package which contained a shirt in Gryffindor colours. He hugged his son who looked pleased and embarrassed at the same time.

Remus saw himself sitting next to Sirius, his hand resting casually on the other man's thigh, Sirius's arm casually draped around his shoulders. In the mirror Remus's hair was less gray. There were fewer lines around his eyes and mouth. His clothes were well fitted and looked new. Every now and then he and Sirius would glance at one another and smile or Sirius would say something and he would laugh. He wished he could hear what they were saying. And now Sirius leaned over and whispered something in his mirror-self's ear and that Remus gave Sirius a sideways glance and smiled shyly. Sirius grinned and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

Sirius looked much more like the young man Remus had known than like the haggard stranger in the papers. On this occasion his hair had been neatly brushed and tied back at the nape of his neck. The shining curls fell halfway down his back. Remus's fingers twitched. He longed to run them through that hair. Something told him that, in the mirror's world, it had been he who had brushed those shining tresses and tied them back, planting a kiss on that neck as he did so. There were no shadows under this Sirius's eyes, he was clean-shaven, and like the Remus in the mirror, there were fewer telltale lines denoting the passage of a difficult life.

More people were appearing in the scene. Three younger children ran between the adults, giggling and chasing one another. There was a girl of about ten who looked like Harry. She had freckles and her hair was in two neat braids. Coming after the girl was a small boy of seven or so who was the spitting image of Lily. Harry grabbed the boy as he went by and proceeded to incapacitate him with tickles. He giggled and shrieked silently in the mirror and appealed to his mother to save him.

The third child puzzled him. A girl of about eleven with long, blonde curls and big, brown eyes. She was wearing new flannel pajamas in Ravenclaw colours and she looked like neither Lily nor James. She had been chasing the other two children, brandishing a sprig of mistletoe. When she got to Harry she stopped, held the berried twig over his head and kissed him unabashedly on the cheek, then ran away giggling. Harry looked so stunned that he let his little brother go. He blushed furiously.

The blonde girl ran back through the scene again, this time going the other direction, and barreled directly into Sirius who caught her and kissed her forehead. She held up the twig, this time between Sirius and Remus's mirror-self, and as the two men in the glass obligingly leaned in to kiss, Remus saw the girl's mouth move to form the word "daddy".

Remus sat down hard on the cold stone floor, mouth open, eyes fixed on the scene in the mirror. The mirror knew even when he had not let himself think for years ....

They had talked about it. Shyly that first time when they had helped Lily and James decorate the nursery that was to be Harry's in a few months. Then after Harry was born it had been a frequent topic on conversation. They could adopt a child. God knew there had been enough families in the wizarding world that had lost both parents in those dark days. They would be good fathers they had thought. When Harry was born they had both said they would gladly protect him with their lives as if he had been their own. Well, Remus had meant it even if Sirius had not. Remus still loved the boy like his own blood kin even now when he was practically a stranger.

They had gone so far as to obtain the appropriate paperwork from the Ministry that fateful October. In fact, the night before Halloween they had lain in bed talking about the possibility. That was when Sirius had mentioned to him that should anything happen to Lily and James, Harry would come to them. But Remus had told him that was an eventuality too horrible to contemplate. Sirius had put his arms around him then, cradling Remus's head against his chest and said, "I know it is, but James told me before they went into hiding and I thought you should know." They had been silent then, each with his own thoughts.

Now he gazed into the enchanted mirror seeing another possibility -- a life that could have been. This child sitting in his mirror-self's lap, gazing up at him, handing him presents. What was her name? What her story? He could well understand how this mirror could drain a man's life away while he sat transfixed, not noticing. Now the little girl was pulling on a gray hood, tying it under her chin. The hood had wolf-ears on it. She dropped to all fours and howled then pounced on the mirror-Remus. Sirius, turning to a large black dog, did the same. The three of them tumbled and wrestled and laughed and licked one another's faces.

Remus could not bear it any longer, looking into this life that might have been -- that could never be -- his. He stumbled to his feet and fled.

He hurried up one corridor and down the next, seeking the exit at the North Tower, wanting only to put distance between himself and that accursed mirror. He wanted to erase those too-sweet visions of longing from his mind. He wanted the safety and relative comfort of his own rooms.

It seemed to him to take forever before he found himself at the base of the North Tower again, and when he did he was startled to find he was not alone. He nearly ran headlong into Professor Trelawney. He stopped short, wanting to get away quickly but constrained by instinctive politeness.

"Professor," he gasped. "Good evening. It's, ah, unexpected to see you."

"But not for me to see you, Professor Lupin. The crystals do not lie." She peered at him mistily though those thick glasses that made her look like a huge insect. "But, my dear Professor, are you quite well?"

"Ah, no," he said quickly. "No, I don't feel quite myself this evening, I'm afraid."

She pursed her lips and nodded with excessive sympathy. "If you would like, Professor, I should be happy to crystal gaze for you, and see if I can't find the source of your turmoil?" She raised her brows inquiringly. "Some of these things are only to be perceived by those of us who are masters or mistresses of the exalted art of Divination, you know."

"Thank you, no, Professor," said Remus, casting about for a hasty exit. "I, ah, I think I'll just go back to my rooms and have a bit of a lie down. Thank you. Good night, Professor." And with that he hurried off down the corridor, casting glances over his shoulder to make sure he was not followed.