Different Country

Different Country

If he thought about the past, which he never did, he remembered his family and the wolf that bit him. His mother had cried for weeks (four weeks?) until the moon rose full once more. His parents took him to St. Mungo's to be seen by a specialist. 'Werewolf' he had whispered. Not an accusation, but a plain statement of fact. His father had been angry and full of questions and determined to find a cure.

If he thought about the past, which he rarely did, he remembered the struggle that had taken place for him to get to Hogwarts. When he was nine he had found the letter from Headmaster Dippett informing his parents that there was no place for him at the school. When he was ten, Dumbledore took over and his parents had asked him to reconsider. When he was eleven he had boarded the train at Platform 9 ¾.

If he thought about the past, which he hardly ever did, he remembered his sorting. The moonlit sky above the great hall and the cloth whisper in his mind. The hat had asked him questions that he had never even asked himself. 'Werewolf' it had whispered. Not an accusation, but a plain statement of fact. He had flinched nonetheless, waiting for the pronouncement.

If he thought about the past, which he occasionally did, he remembered his friends and the first time they spoke in the deep dark red and gold of their dormitory. He had sat, silent and watchful, on the edge of his new bed. Sirius, James and Peter and him. They had exchanged small, trivial details of their families and home, likes and dislikes. All of them had been hoping that the hat had been right.

If he thought about the past, which he sometimes did, he remembered when they found out. He had been sitting in the cool shade of the trees by the lake when they arrived, Peter clutching a book in front of him as if to protect himself. 'Werewolf' they had whispered. Not an accusation, but a plain statement of fact. He couldn't deny it, but they had stood by him and promised him they always would.

If he thought about the past, which he fairly often did, he remembered James and Lily. How James had watched her when he thought nobody else was looking. The expression on Sirius' face when he realised that nothing would ever be the same between them. The passing look on Peter's when he realised he would never have what James did. The start and end of something beautiful.

If he thought about the past, which he almost always did, he remembered Snape and the Willow. It hadn't had to have been Snape, of course. As far as Sirius was concerned it could have been any other Slytherin. He was so angry with them all. 'Werewolf' Snape had whispered. An accusation, not a statement of fact. He knew what he really was, as did Sirius, and he could never forgive him.

If he thought about the past, which he constantly did, he remembered the 31^st of October 1980. He had been woken by the sound of people celebrating the death of his friends and the day had just gotten worse from then. He had wondered about Sirius having been that resentful of the happy family for so long and why Peter had been determined to avenge their deaths by a pointless sacrifice.

If he lived in the past, which he did, he remembered thinking he would be the first to die. Sirius had seemed so indestructible, Peter so cautious and James so full of the joy of living. He would have to be first, he had thought. One long painful transformation too many, or the sting of a silver bullet from the Ministry. He would be the first to die, so why was he the last one standing?