On the Ledge

On The Ledge

Remus stood alone at the bottom of the cliff looking up, shading his eyes from the brilliant sun.

He could have Apparated to the top of the cliff, where the ledge jutted out from the face of the hill. He had the last time he was here. But the rock ledge was narrow and easy to misjudge, and lately he distrusted his ability to stay focused; fearing Splinching himself into the surrounding outcrop or else toppling off altogether with no one to catch him.

The last time he was here was July 1977, month of the blue moon, with Sirius and James and Peter, all fresh out of Hogwarts. Sirius had, as the dog, bounded ahead and clambered up the rocky hill with ease, barking joyously when he reached the top in a clear challenge to follow. Peter and James transformed immediately and, as the rat and stag, followed the dog's path up, Wormtail scampering and Prongs traversing the steep pebbly slope with sure footing.

Remus watched his friends' ascent from below, one hand shading his eyes from the brilliant sun. When Wormtail and Prongs reached the top, all the boys transformed back then shouted down at Remus.

"Come on Moony, you tosser, haul your arse up here!"

He decided he wasn't going to get filthy scaling the dirt and rocks. So he simply smirked and Apparated instead, appearing with a loud pop between a surprised Sirius and James--

Except he'd misjudged the width of the ledge.

He nearly toppled off to a certain death from crashing into the waves below. Thankfully they caught him, grabbing his arms to steady him and pull him back.

Now he climbed, his worn boots slipping and sliding over the rocky terrain. Beads of sweat trickled down his face and pooled in rivulets at his back as he reached for hand holds. His joints protested at the exertion; he wasn't so young anymore and it had only been a few days past the last full moon. But finally, eventually he hauled himself up onto the narrow ledge. Standing on the edge of the cliff, the stone face still warm under his feet, he surveyed the expanse of the North Sea, the white foam caps lapping at the jutting rocks below.

He remembered them hunkering down on that ledge in the bright July sun, the stone warm beneath their dungarees and sneakers. He heard their lost voices, a far echo perhaps from the brambles to the one side, growing half out of the hill. They'd stripped those brambles clean then, the four of them flicking their wands lazily at the bushes; the sweet-tart blackberries flew straight into their mouths. Crunching the ripe juicy pulp between their teeth, violet berry juice staining their lips, they ate their fill before stretching out to lounge in the sun. They stayed for hours until the sun set, eyes tracing the tracks of lazy clouds and talking about nothing; pretending that there really wasn't a war that was going to kill them all, going on below.

Remus sat on the ledge and aimed his wand at the brambles, that didn't look so full anymore. The bright blackberries flew obediently into a small cup beside him. He plucked one gingerly from the cup and popped it in his mouth, his teeth closing around the sun-warmed flesh. They were still tart, but perhaps not as sweet as he remembered. He ate them anyway until the cup was empty, but left the rest on the bush; he really was not all that hungry.

This time there was still a war, the same one because it had never really ended the last time. The war had just receded into the depths of time, always under the surface, just waiting to reappear. Last time it took James and Lily, and Peter. This time more soldiers had fallen. Emmeline Vance. Amelia Bones.

And Sirius.

He stretched out on the ledge to gaze at the cerulean sky. The white puffs still meandered across, the smell of salt water still reached his nose from the spray below, time still stuttered and ceased, for a while anyway. Until with a start, he remembered that this month, July 1996, also had a blue moon.

Not that it mattered now.

Thinking of nothing, he stayed until the sun began to set behind him, the eastern sky growing indigo against the shimmering sea. Only then did he rise, the stone now cooling off beneath him, and began his careful descent down the cliff; his mind already turning towards the details of his next Order mission. Meetings, plans, discussions; the war was on full-swing now, and duty beckoned. When he reached the bottom, he sighed heavily, but did not look back.

He knew he would not come here again.