Remember Him, or, Penance

Something inside me died when I saw him fall. Part of my soul seemed to wither and rot when I knelt beside him, cradling him in my arms - when I saw his lips move and realised he was trying to say my name, but couldn´t quite make it before death stole over him like nightfall and his loyal heart stopped beating. The sensation was very strange, coming as it did on top of a sense of relief so pure and sweet it was overwhelming - it was over, all over, the Dark Lord was gone and my Godson was safe at last. Grief, relief, mingling in an unnatural combination...as I held Remus in my arms and helplessly watched him die, it seemed to me that *I* was the one who was dying - that I´d done what I set out to do when I escaped from Azkaban: seen Harry grow into a fine, strong man, seen him defeat darkness and survive, done what I could to help and protect James´ son. But I was still alive - the pain told me that - and Remus, Remus who never deserved any kind of suffering, Remus who was the kindest, gentlest, sweetest man I ever knew, was gone. In an eyeblink, a flash of green light, an instant of twisted dark magic, my friend was snatched from me, not allowed even a day to appreciate the knowledge that the war was over, that we had won.

I heard my own voice crying out, felt Harry´s hand on my shoulder, heard him murmuring in my ear, but the words meant nothing to me. As my Godson gently drew me close to him I turned to gaze into his face, hoping to find some evidence there that I might be having a nightmare, as had happened so often following the dead years I spent in prison - but he was not looking at me. Following his gaze, I found a pair of black eyes burning into mine - familiar eyes that were simultaneously anguished and passionless. I knew then that I was not the only one to suffer today - that I had never been the only one to suffer...

Sitting now in the hospital wing, alone and feeling confused, surrounded by chaos, I try to remember Remus. Strange...in Azkaban, no good memories could penetrate the misery and doom; since then, only the present and thoughts of the future had kept me alive and sane. I had been driven to...escape. Find Harry. Protect Harry. Fight Voldemort. Fight guilt, fear, anger...for the first time since the lost years, I have time to focus entirely on grief. Sitting here so quietly, lost in thought, I find I can remember horribly little of my life before pain. I can´t remember how it felt to laugh, to love, or even live. I think of Remus, lying cold and still. I´ll never see that gentle smile again. It hurts to think of him but I must...I owe him that, because he was my friend and because he sacrificed himself for me. I know without being told that the curse which killed him was meant for me. I know what his last words were going to be, if he´d had chance to say them...

"Sirius...it´s better this way. Harry needs you much more than he needs me."

But perhaps, for the first...the *only* time in his life, my friend Moony was wrong. What use will I be to my Godson? My poor courageous Harry. He was the only thing keeping me going for so many years...he kept me alive, Remus kept me sane. I don´t know how I seem to others...normal, probably. But inside I feel I´m crumbling, falling to bits, and if anything, it´ll be Harry who has to take care of *me*. And I won´t burden him with that. He´s suffered enough. If Remus had lived, he would have been stronger...he would´ve made sure Harry was all right. Been his friend. Been a sort of father to him, perhaps, in a way I don´t think I can ever be, now. I´m too broken. Never be whole again.

A while ago...I don´t know how long, memories that were so elusive seem to be tumbling in snatches into my mind, but I can´t place or date them...some time ago, anyway, Harry showed me his photo album. The one Hagrid...good old Hagrid. He tried to comfort me, like Harry did just now. He´s a good man. Done more good for Harry than I have. Anyway. When Harry showed me those photographs - I can place it now, almost, it was very soon after I´d been cleared by the Ministry - I had to leave the room because I didn´t want him to see I was crying. He was so concerned and angry with himself when he thought he´d upset me. Sweet kid. Like his father, always more worried about everyone else than himself. I was angry with myself, too - I should have been happy at being free at last, or at least as free as any of us could be under the dark threat we all face - *faced*, Padfoot, it´s over now, it´s over - when I talk to myself I always use that name. I think of Padfoot as a sort of separate entity, in a way...it´s like having a friend with me constantly, a friend I can never lose. I lost James, and Lily, and Remus, and others...but I´ll never lose Padfoot.

I seem to be losing myself, though. In Azkaban it was the thing I feared most. I struggled to hold on to my memories of the good times...as kids at Hogwarts, messing about, doing all the mad stuff we did...I can´t remember much of it now. It´s slipping away. Perhaps I *did* lose myself in Azkaban and didn´t notice it until now because there just hasn´t been time for introspection, with one thing and another - those minor everyday annoyances, like the Dark Lord attacking, that sort of thing. Shouldn´t make light of such things. But I really think humour can keep you alive in the worst of situations. If the Dementors had a stand-up routine Azkaban would be irrelevant.

My memory is definitely playing me up. Am I nothing but a constellation of memories? There must be more to me. I looked at Harry´s pictures and they made me cry for James, my brother - that was how I thought of him, as the brother I should have had. Remus should have been my brother too, but actually, he was more like a *wife* - that was one of the jokes we made, I remember that! He nagged me like a wife, James used to say, keeping me on the straight and narrow, stopping me from going totally wild. But Remus didn´t nag, really - he´d just look at me in that way of his, wearing that warm smile, shaking his head,

"You´re crazy, Padfoot! Sometimes I think you´ll be the death of me."

Oh Moony, I didn´t mean to be.

"Your bloody `pranks´ are going to get someone killed one of these days!"

Where did that come from? That wasn´t Remus. It was James. He´s angry with me over that stupid incident with Remus and the Shrieking Shack. I wasn´t trying to *kill* that oily git Snape...just shake him up a little, the arrogant little sod. But I´ve never seen James so furious, and though I stare him out and pretend I don´t care what he thinks, I´ve never felt more alone or miserable. Three whole days without him, spurning any other offers of friendship. Remus talks to me. He tries to patch up our damaged friendship, but James and I are too proud and stupid to apologise to one another. Remus as always is the diplomat, the voice of reason...more than that, he´s forgiving, generous, and loving. I feel ashamed of myself when I realise how much my little joke could have hurt him. That was something that simply never occurred to me, and it should have...I´m sorry, Moony. It´s too late now...but I said so at the time, didn´t I? Didn´t I? If not for you, James and I probably wouldn´t have sorted it out. Not quickly, anyway. Sitting alone in the common room, watching you and James and...the other one, I won´t sully your memory by saying his name together with yours, however childish that may sound...sitting alone, watching you and James talking. He laughed, but it was forced, trying to make me think he didn´t care. You smiled sort of politely, but looked over at me with sadness in your eyes. You knew what a terrible thing it is to be alone. Being without you and James for those three days was the worst pain I´d ever known in my young life. I thought it would be forever. But it wasn´t...not yet. We had some good times afterwards, didn´t we? You and James and me. Laughing and pranking and Merlin knows what else. Then Lily came along...but we didn´t really mind, because she was one of us, in a way. She made James happy.

You and I were together more, Remus, after they got married. We had good times then, too. We got closer. Then all *that* happened...those awful things...I don´t want to think about them. Not now.

What am I trying to say? I had a point somewhere. I feel so confused today, my thoughts won´t go where I want them to go. Perhaps I´m in shock...but if this is shock, numbness, what will it be like after? Not sure I want to know.

No, don´t panic, old friend, I´m not planning on doing away with myself. I was always a bit melodramatic, I know... I can hear you, Moony, laughing to yourself,

"Attention-seeker, more like!"

You´re right, I was. A people person, that´s me. That *used* to be me. It all sounds so pathetic, doesn´t it? Aren´t I sorry for myself, eh? Aren´t I entitled to be?

I miss you already. That´s what I was trying to say...you were always my common sense, Remus. You kept me out of trouble before everything went wrong, and afterwards, you cared for me. You were always there, in the background, steady, safe, sensible, loving...even when I was in Azkaban I felt you were with me. That kept me going as much as anything else. Remus, my rock.

I know you wanted me to look after Harry, but really, he doesn´t need taking care of. He´s all grown up now, and he has friends - good, true, loyal friends who love him. He´s going to be all right. He´ll survive, and he´ll be strong. I´m not strong anymore, Remus, though I used to be, and many people envied my strength. I´m tired now. But I won´t let your sacrifice be in vain, nor will I ignore your last wishes. I´ll do my best to be there for Harry, and to hide my own grief, but soon enough he won´t need me any more - and when that happens, I´ll quietly slip away, and find you, Moony.

I know you´ll be waiting.