After

-Chapter Two-

~The Pain~

It wasn't enough that he had been stuck in this hospital bed for days, but to top that, he was forced to drink the most foul potions known to wizard kind. It wouldn't have been so bad, if he had something to do, but there really wasn't anything to be done.

Ron had been elated when Hermione had stopped by earlier, but it was easy to tell that her mind had been elsewhere. Instead of a distraction, she had served more of a stark reminder of just how bad the world was.

His conversation with Hermione had been left to forced small talk, but he could tell that there was something eating away at her. He only wished that he could do something to help her, but he knew that until she came to him with her problems, it was better to just stay out of it. It didn't matter anyway, because when their transactions became close to a somewhat normal conversation, Hermione abruptly decided to leave.

That had been hours ago, and now Ron was trying to get a healer's attention so he could pester them into letting him go and visit Harry. But it seemed that the Healers were avoiding his part of the ward.

'Fine, I'll just have to do it myself!' Ron grumbled. He took a quick glance towards Fred's bed, and saw he was asleep. He let out a sigh of relief as he threw his blanket to the floor.

Swinging his legs around and pushing himself off of the bed, Ron immediately regretted his decision. Pain shot up his legs, momentarily clouding his vision. Ron was afraid that he'd pass out, and was relieved when the pain subsided.

'It's a good thing the healers finally let me wear my own clothes.' Ron mused and he shuffled to the doorway. He didn't really want to have to try wandering around, looking for robes, in his condition.

The pain was getting less intense as he worked legs. Silently he wondered why the healers hadn't let him out of bed before.

He had made it out the door and down the hallway, feeling completely smug, when he was stopped by a loud booming voice.

"RONALD WEASLEY!"

Turning slowly, so he could avoid any unnecessary pain, he found the source of the voice.

"Hello, Mum."

"Just what do you think you are doing out of bed? You could hurt yourself! You march yourself right back into your bed and you stay there," Mrs. Weasley spat.

"No." Ron surprised himself. He would have never considered saying no to his mother. But, somehow he felt that in this situation it would be alright.

Mrs. Weasley stiffened at the her son's response. Hurt flashed in her eyes, and Ron almost regretted his answer. But, Mrs. Weasley relaxed when she saw the look in his eyes. They were filled with reckless determination. She forced herself to calm down, something she had been forced to learn because of the war. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to visit Harry." Ron challenged. Then, not waiting for any kind of response, he spun around and limped further down the hall.

Feeling herself soften, she did what any parent might do in this situation. She marched right up to Ron and gave him her arm. "I'll help you there, Dear."

"Thanks, Mum."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Remus Lupin was weary. He felt it in every bone of his body.

Not a lot of study has gone into the sleep patterns of a man stricken with lycanthropy, so no wizard really knows the side-effects that altered sleep patterns can have on a werewolf, that is no wizard but Remus J. Lupin.

He hadn't slept in a long time. Being plagued with nightmares would do that to a person. But, to Remus it was worse. He had them every night, sometimes more than once. It was always the same one.

He was on the battlefield. Surprisingly deft at dodging the various jinxes and curses that were being flung through the air, he found himself successfully driving away many opponents. All the same he felt it taxing on his energy to dodge and roll, and quickly realized he was running out of strength.

He jumped out of the path of an incoming curse, and caught the tail end of another one. The cruciatus curse swept over his entire body. He had been lucky that the dark wizard hadn't been shooting to kill.

The pain subsided somewhat, and Remus glanced up to see his attacker. His heart fell when he realized he recognized the face. Mustering all the strength he could, Remus somehow found himself on his feet.

"You Rat!" Remus spat.

"In the flesh." Peter Pettigrew drawled. He was no longer the stuttering school boy Remus had once knew. There was no trace of that innocent little boy. The darkness had taken over Peter, had made him stronger. He no longer cowered in fear while the battle raged around him, now he was in the thick of it.

Remus could feel all the anger and hurt that he had kept so well hidden for the past years begin to boil to the surface. He suddenly wanted to cause as much pain as possible to his traitorous friend. But to let him live, even a minute longer, would be too big of a blessing. He wanted to kill him.

Peter had lifted his wand again and was forming the words of his curse of choice, and was taken completely by surprise when Remus shouted above the din around him.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

In all his fury and all his hurt, Remus had found the strength to use the unforgivable curse. He didn't think he would have been able to go through with it, but when the green flash of light weaved through the air toward it's subject, Remus felt all his energy go into this one spell.

He watched with no remorse as the spell hit it's mark, and Peter's figure crumpled to the ground. He smiled with a bit of satisfaction as he stood over the body, and imagined what Peter's last thoughts were.

"Burn in Hell, Brother!"

Remus would then walk away leaving behind the last remnant of the brotherhood he once had.

At this point, Remus would wake up disoriented. He'd half expect to find himself still in the middle of battle, just recovering from a curse. Then he'd remember that he was at home safe in his bed, and the memories would assault him.

He didn't want to relive his part in the war against evil, but it seemed to creep up on him when he least expected it.

He didn't know how he would be able to do it. He couldn't live with the fact that he had killed his brother.

Secretly, he contemplated just ending it all. It was for the best, and It would save everybody a lot of pain in the long run. There was no hidden light in the darkness that surrounded him, just endless black.

He felt he had given his all to the war, and then was required to give more. He was sick of feeling so bent, sick of the constant feeling that he is being squeezed through reality, and only just making it.

He wanted out.

He knew just how he was going to do it, too.

He didn't believe in any of the magical methods. They were all quick and painless. Somehow casting Avada Kedavra on himself, or taking a poison, didn't seem the way to do it. He wanted to feel his death, wanted to let it run through every part of his body.

His death had to have meaning, more meaning than the life he was living currently. So he was going to hang himself. He could calculate it just right so he could almost guarantee that his neck wouldn't break. He'd have to wait while he choked to death. He thought that would be the best way to go.

He wanted to say good bye to Harry first, though. He felt he needed to give him some sort of an explanation. It is for that reason, that he found himself sitting beside Harry's bed.

He had cajoled Hermione into leaving him alone with Harry for a while. A task in and of itself near impossible. Yet, he had succeeded nonetheless. But, now as he sat in the uncomfortable next to Harry's bed, he couldn't seem to find the right words.

Clearing his throat, he began staring at his thumbnail. He found it easier to concentrate when doing so. He studied his hands for a little while, then finally found his voice.

"I came to say good-bye, Harry." Remus swallowed, he felt the tears come again. He had never been an emotional man, but the war brought out the emotion in everyone. "I'm going to leave soon, there's nothing left for me to do here."

He stood, maybe this would be easier if he weren't just sitting there. "I want you to know that I killed him. The person who was behind most of this madness. How amazing that some small little creature can turn the tide so much. I thought it would make me feel better, if I killed him. But, it didn't. I don't think it will ever feel better.

"I'm the last one." Remus found he was pacing, and stopped himself. "I learned something during the war. Just when I began to get confident that we would win, the Death-Eaters began to use the Imperius Curse on many of our number. I watched in horror as many good men and women turned on their friends. Not of their own will, but they turned all the same. That made me think. Everybody has a price. It doesn't take a lot to make someone change sides. I don't know what my price is, but I don't want to stick around to find out.

"I already see it grabbing me. I killed my brother, and I enjoyed it! I remember feeling satisfaction! I was happy that I killed him. What kind of monster does that make me?

"I've served the purpose I set out to do, and there isn't anything left for me. I'm sorry, Harry. I just came to say Good-bye."

Remus backed out of the room and started down the hall. He found Mrs. Weasley and Ron meandering down the hall, but he didn't feel like speaking to them. Instead he back-tracked around the other way, and successfully avoided a conversation with the Weasley's.

He took his time getting to the apparation point, wandering around St. Mungos' crowded hallways. When he was finally inside the free-apparation zone he took one last look around him, and apparated home.