Field of Innocence
By, Elbereth Gilthoniel

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Chapter 44
Andare

"I still remember."
Field of Innocence – Evanescence

Four years later…

The house wasn't one that had seen many happy days. Most of the portraits spent their time sleeping, only occasionally opening a bleary eye to see the visitors that came and went every-so-often. The carpet was old and ragged, like it hadn't been taken care of in a long time. There were stains in many places; some from alcohol, vomit, dropped cigarettes, or a haphazard spell. The wallpaper was peeling, some of it gone completely in a few places, chunks that had been missing for some time. There was a dank smell in the air mixed with alcohol, tobacco, and that of something burning. It was always dark. The windows were kept shut. In the downstairs library, the room was left as it was last used. An unwritten letter laid finished on the desk, addressed to a lost love. The quill its writer was using lay some feet away. The cushions on the furniture looked as though they had been danced upon, ruffled in many places. There was a candle on the desk, burnt down to the very bottom. Another candle had been there, but was upturned, leaving a long trail of wax that had dried many years ago. Everything was covered in dust; nothing had been disturbed for a several years. The kitchen was in disarray. In the sink, a few pots and pans were left that hadn't been used in a few weeks. Food was rotting, and several flies were buzzing about them. The fireplace had a weak flame in it, as if it had been lit reluctantly. A teacup filled with cool liquid sat on the table, untouched, as if made for someone who had no intention of drinking it. A bottle of liquor was smashed on the ground near the cabinet, but the alcohol had long since dried up. The upstairs of the house was no better. There were footprints in the dust where the house's one occupant had walked up and down many times.

Whatever visitors did come he strictly forbade from going upstairs. Not that people came often anyway. Remus came in once a week to check on him to make sure he hadn't killed himself, but the werewolf sometimes wondered if he would've been better off dead, considering the way that he was living. Harry came and went sporadically. Sometimes, he would be in the morning he went to work, and then there that evening to cook dinner. Other times, he didn't come for over a month. He claimed it all depended on how busy work was, but sometimes, looking at the state of things was too difficult for him. Mrs. Weasley stopped by every so often with food and clothes, and tried to talk some sense into him. It usually resulted in a lot of shouting before she stormed out, muttering to herself about how he was impossible to deal with, we all suffered losses, and that he shouldn't mope about like a pathetic failure when the rest of us were trying to move in with our lives since Voldemort's defeat. Ron and Hermione had been by once near the beginning, offering their condolences and trying to help the best that they could. Ron felt too uncomfortable to ever come back. Hermione popped in every so often and tried to convince him to let her clean, but he refused. Once, she tried to go upstairs, but, in a drunken fit, he had almost hurt her. She never came back after that. Besides those few, no one ever really came. He hadn't ever expected to see George again, not after the funeral, anyways.

Mostly, Sirius was alone in Grimmauld Place, a bottle in hand, wallowing in his misery. His one duty had been to protect his children at all costs, and he had failed at it. This failure ate at his insides every single day, practically eating him alive. The alcohol helped to numb the pain, but it did little good overall. Instead of being simply miserable, he was drunk and miserable.

It was on the anniversary of Eponine's death that Harry stopped by. He had been feeling particularly melancholy on that day. Ron and Hermione had encouraged him to eat all three meals, but his appetite was gone. The only thing eating at his stomach was guilt.

Harry had played over the events of that day in his mind a thousand times. For weeks, he had been unable to do anything except for agonize in his own guilt. Eventually, he moved on, not long after Voldemort had been defeated. The realization occurred to him that maybe it wasn't all his fault—or perhaps Voldemort's death finally gave him the closure he needed. He wasn't quite sure, but chose not to dwell on it.

As he made his way down the street to Grimmauld Place, Harry couldn't help but wonder what he was going to encounter. According to Remus, Sirius was only doing worse, egged on by the fact that he didn't need to work with the pile of money he had in Gringotts. It was only made worse just recently, when things were close to turning around. Eponine had created a special kind of Wizarding Will not long after she became of age. Because it was unsigned by any kind of public official and in the middle of being written, it was difficult to get it sorted out. Remus had been working on it tirelessly (the Ministry had been cracking down on unofficial Wizarding Wills since Voldemort's defeat), and once it was finally done, when he had managed to convince Sirius to shave for the first time in god knows how long, it sent him into an even further downward spiral. Especially because she had left him everything, except for a few, select objects.

Harry fingered the necklace she had left him in his pocket. When she died, her hand had been on it, so he had snatched up quickly, wanting to keep some part of her for himself. She seemed to have had the same idea as well, he thought, with a sad smile. He thought back to when she had first gotten it, the first ever Christmas they had spent together, riddled with drama, but one of his favorite Christmases, nevertheless.

He rang the doorbell to Grimmauld Place, taking a deep breath and preparing for the worst. For several minutes, he waited. He shivered, surprised that it was so uncommonly cold for that summer. To him, it always seemed like the weather got worse around this time before brightening up. It must have been his imagination, he concluded. Finally, he figured that Sirius was drunk and passed out, and left, not wanting to waste any more of his time that year. They would drink together the next anniversary.

Sirius had heard the doorbell ring, but felt it better to remain on the floor of Eponine's old room, sitting against the door, a bottle in hand. He was staring at her bed, with the covers messed just as she had left them, but a thick layer of dust covering them. He took a long swig of firewhiskey, relishing in the burning feeling it sent down his throat. For a moment, he wondered if when Eponine died, it had burned, for the spell Thisbe had cast was a kind of magical fire. Or had she screwed up the spell and merely created a gaping tear in his daughter's stomach? The thought sent rage pouring threw his body, and he suddenly threw the bottle across the room, leaving a small trail of alcohol. It smashed against her nightstand, falling to pieces against the floor. Sirius stared at it for a moment before scrambling to his knees, and half-ran and half-crawled to the spot, nearly stumbling onto his face. He picked up the pieces, muttering apologies under his breath.

Her room had become a sort of shrine in the past years. No one was allowed upstairs. He didn't want anyone messing anything up. Then he had to go and break the bottle against the one piece of furniture that hadn't reminded her of a gothic cemetery, she had shared once.

"I'm so sorry." He was whimpering, tears stinging at his eyes. He was blinking quickly, not knowing why, since no one was there to see him cry. Maybe it was because Eponine had always been such a hard ass that he didn't want to seem like…

"Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints," came a familiar voice incredulously, "you're a fucking pussy."

Sirius looked up sharply. Eponine was leaning against the wall a few feet away, eating an apple. She looked at it thoughtfully before tossing the core away, but it disappeared before hitting the ground. When she looked back at Sirius' shocked face, she innocently asked, "What?"

"Y—y—you."

"M—m—me." She smiled. "What? Were you expecting me to be all decomposed and like, 'I am a zombie,'" she spoke in a dull dead voice. "'I am here to eat your flesh.' Or were you hoping for something more dramatic with me speaking in a wistful voice all high-pitched and like, you know? Looking exactly like I did when I died with blood dripping out of my wound all creepy like?"

After a long, rather awkward pause, where the two looked at one another and blinked, Sirius bluntly said, "Well, considering that you're dead, I wasn't expecting to see you at all."

He stood up slowly, several of the broken pieces of glass still clutched in his hand. They fell to the ground, breaking apart even more as they hit the floor.

"Am I dreaming?" he asked.

"No, this is a special thing we dead people do," said Eponine lightly. "We just come up looking however we feel like looking and…"

"And…?"

"Well." Eponine looked away from Sirius for a moment before giving him a hard stare, her body tone matching the seriousness her voice suddenly took on. "You've become quite the failure."

"I know I failed you," said Sirius quietly.

"That's not what I'm talking about," said Eponine exasperated. "Damn Buddha's left nut, isn't it obvious? My death hasn't been your spectacular failure. Your seemingly marvelous and fan—tab—ulous failure has been the fact that you've been wallowing around," she continued on, her tone becoming venomous, "like a bum, waiting to drop dead, stewing in your own misery. I died because my mother is a psychopath. I died because Voldemort tricked us. I died because I didn't do what you told me to do. You could name tons of reasons why I died. But none of them involve you. Your failure has been the fact that since then you've sat around this house practically drinking yourself to death and waiting to come up and join us. But I've got news for you; we know the general fate of people around here. And you're going to be around here for a long time. I don't know if it'll be because you have an amazingly resilient liver or if you're actually going to turn things around. Because right now, it's looking to be the former. So you better stop this fucking pity fest and get your act together."

Eponine took a deep breath and turned away from Sirius, her face in her hands. She was muttering to herself. Sirius stared at his feet, feeling horribly guilty. Remus had told him that she wouldn't want him to spend the rest of his life clinging to her memory. Now here she was, telling him exactly what Remus…and Harry…and Ron…and Hermione…and Mrs. Weasley had all told him.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, staring at his feet, ashamed.

"I know you are," said Eponine sympathetically, turning back to him as he looked up at her. "But that isn't good enough. You and I both know that this isn't what I want for you. Why can't you accept that? YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!" she screeched suddenly at the ceiling, causing Sirius to jump. "YEAH, I HEAR YOU, JAMES! NO, I WASN'T PLANNING ON DOING THAT, THANKS FOR ASKING! AND I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME THINKING, BUT I WAS JUST HOPING THAT MY SHOUTING WOULD MAKE A BETTER IMPRESSION! SO SUCK IT!"

Eponine rolled her eyes and looked at Sirius, saying, "Sorry. They're talking to me up there. They want me to speed things along because it's kind of against the rules for me to be down here."

"Who enforces the rules?" asked Sirius curiously.

"We're not entirely sure," said Eponine, looking thoughtful for a moment before shaking her head and continuing on. "But I heard that Dumbledore dilly-dallied talking to McGonagall last week because he was giving her some advice on some psycho fourth years she couldn't control. Anyway, we didn't see him for a week or so, your time, I think; don't quote me on that because I'm not a hundred percent sure how the time thing works. Where was I?" She paused. "Oh, yeah, Dumbledore. So, for a week he was missing, and when he came back he was slightly transparent for a little while. There's this neighborhood watch guy that keeps on giving us funny looks, but we're a bunch of troublemakers, anyway, so it's to be expected. It's so bureaucratic up there. Ever since Voldemort went psycho and a few Muggle wars got out of hand, they've been cracking down on things."

"What the fuck goes on in the afterlife?"

Eponine smiled knowingly. "Just wait. But I don't expect I'll be seeing you for a while." She began walking toward the door.

"Wait," cried Sirius urgently.

"What?" She looked impatient. "I do not want to be transparent. Dumbledore may look younger up there, but transparency doesn't do much for him."

"I just want to know if you're okay."

This time, when she smiled, it was wide and genuine.

"I'm fine, Dad. I'm just waiting for you all to come. James and Lily are great, and I've gotten to know Dumbledore really well, and Mad-eye too. Fred is funny as ever. But I miss you. Watching you lately has been such a bore. And time moves the same way up there as it does down here. Well, I think it does," she added as an afterthought. "I'm not really sure." She smiled again. "I'm just hoping this works as a good wake-up call. Don't make me come down here again."

"I'd like to hear from you again."

"That's now how it works. Plus, you can't move on that way. Our lives were always meant to be separate."

"So you won't be coming back?" he asked quietly and desperately, his eyes pleading, heart agonizing as he spoke

"I'm not supposed to do this," said Eponine, "because we can see what path you're planning to take. And based upon this very moment, I can guess that you're going to do what I've told you to. And if you do, go out for drinks with Remus this Saturday night at the Leaky Cauldron. Maybe in a year or two, you'll be married—YEAH, I KNOW, GIVE ME A BREAK! Sorry, they're driving me crazy, and I have to go," she said quickly. "But go there, you'll meet the love of your life, albeit a little late. And you'll finally get the chance for a real family, and maybe even a happily ever after—or an ever after that doesn't result in a life drowned in sorrow and misery. Gotta go," she added quickly.

She ran to the door and pulled it open. Just as it was about to shut, she opened it back up, sticking her head in, and said with a smile, "James and Lily say, 'hi,' by the way. Forgot to mention that."

Sirius blinked, and he was still kneeling before the broken glass, just as he had been when he heard Eponine's voice. He stood up abruptly, looking around for her, but she was nowhere to be seen. He ran to the door and pulled it open, but nothing had changed. Running down the stairs, his heart began to beat quickly, hoping that he would turn around the corner and see her there, that this had all been one terrible, horrible dream. But as he rounded past the staircase, he came face-to-face with the empty hallway. Not a sound was heard in the house. The portraits were all awake and staring at Sirius as though he were a madman, which he most certainly was, whether or not what he had just seen was real or not. He sighed sadly, his hopes shattered. The weight he had felt before was even heavier on his shoulders.

The door to the parlor suddenly opened, creaking slightly. It was open just a few inches, but just so slightly that Sirius noticed a difference. A light had not been on in that room since the candles burned away.

Sirius entered the parlor, surprised to see a fire crackling away merrily in the grate. He wondered who had lit it.

When he returned home, Sirius was in a stupor. His eyes were wide and unfocused. Remus tried to lead him upstairs, but he pushed the werewolf away, walking slowly, as if he were in a trance. The door to the parlor was open. Sirius went inside, his eyes roving over the room. The fire in the grate had burned to only embers. One candle on the desk was burned down to a stub practically. As he walked across the room, nearly stepping on a discarded quill, it burned out. A tendril of smoke curled through the air, leaving a burnt smell in Sirius's nostrils. He saw the letter on the desk and picked it up. His eyes moved over the words, barely registering what they said. The one thing he noticed was Eponine's messy scrawl, almost illegible on the parchment. Sirius dropped the letter, letting it land on the desk.

He felt a sudden anger surge through him, and hit the candle with his hand. Wax spilled across the table as the candle flew and landed with a thud on the floor. He kicked the desk over and over again. And again. And again. How many times he kicked it, he didn't know for sure. But he did know that the pain in his foot was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. He collapsed on the ground in a sobbing heap, his face in his hands, the tears flowing freely.

"Hello?" he called, as he walked about the room. "Eponine?"

"Clean up," came her voice quietly in his ear. He could practically hear the smile in her voice. "Just because I was a fuck up doesn't mean you get to be one too."

-o-

Remus had been busy with his son since the war had ended, but that night, both the young boy and Tonks had gone to bed early. He thought about joining them, but was feeling very awake that evening. When the doorbell rang, he was surprised to open his door one Saturday night to see Sirius standing on his doorstep.

But it wasn't just that it was Sirius. It was a well-dressed Sirius. A Sirius in a crisp, clean shirt, slacks, and decent shoes. A Sirius who had shaved, finally cut off his hair, though it was not short as it had been pre-Azkaban, and taken a bath. A Sirius who looked like a normal human being.

"What the fuck?" murmured Remus quietly.

This couldn't have been happening. Sirius looked so…normal. It must have been a dream.

"You only swear when you're incredibly surprised or angry," said Sirius, slightly scared of the werewolf's reaction. "What's the deal?"

"Y—You in…in clothes." Remus shook his head. "Not dirty clothes. Clean clothes. Shaved. Shaven Sirius…and you smell—" He sniffed. "—really good."

"I've turned over a new leaf after years of wallowing in self-pity," said Sirius dryly.

"But why? I mean—I'm happy. Ecstatic, actually. But—"

"Let's just say, I had a visit, and I realized that my failure has not been Eponine's death, but my constant pity fest since then."

"Pity fest?" asked Remus curiously, cocking his head.

"It sounded good in my head," lied Sirius.

"No, I like it."

And for the first time in years, Sirius smiled. It made Remus happy to see that his friend was finally coming around. The haunted look, which had never really faded since Azkaban, disappeared for a moment.

"Come on, you up for a drink at the Leaky Cauldron? I haven't had anything since Tuesday," he added, at the suspicious look on the werewolf's face.

-o-

Sirius sat at the bar, a drink in his hands, swirling the liquid in the glass. He was too distracted by the interesting movement of the alcohol to notice the dark-haired woman at the end of the bar, looking at him with a smile on her face. She was with two friends, and not paying attention to their conversation at all. She was dressed nice, out for a night on the town with gal pals, and had a fancy drink in her hand.

It was when Remus sat down that Sirius noticed the woman staring. She looked away quickly when their eyes met, a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks, and took a large gulp of her drink.

That evening for the ex-convict and werewolf was like the good old days. They talked and laughed, reminiscing about the good times that had been had. After a half hour or so, Harry joined them, looking absolutely wonderful when he saw his godfather out of the house.

"Finally," moaned Harry, as he embraced Sirius. "It's great to see you."

"You too."

"I have news," said Harry, slightly sheepish, but a smile on his face.

"Spill," said Remus quickly.

"I—err—well, I proposed to Ginny last night, and she said yes."

Sirius's and Remus's faces lit up when Harry spoke. They both embraced the boy, and Sirius shouted to Tom, "A round for everyone, on me! My kid got engaged!"

Cheers resounded throughout the room at the prospect of free alcohol for everyone. The woman who had been eyeing Sirius smiled, and her two friends clapped and shouted congratulations.

"And, hey, Tom?" he asked the bartender, who came over, grinning his toothy smile. "Do me a favor, and send that dark-haired woman down at the end another of whatever she's been drinking, will you?"

"Will do, Sirius," replied Tom, with a wink.

"An hour out of the house, and he's back to his old, womanizing ways," groaned Remus.

"No, I think I might take this one for keeps," said Sirius.

The woman received the drink, and looked up to its sender, smiling. Sirius nodded. After taking a sip, she stood up and began walking over.

"Shit, we better get out of here," said Harry, tugging on Remus's shoulder. "This man needs to get laid. Then maybe this lovely young woman will marry him, and he'll have an actual life."

"Hope comes in the form of alcohol and a one-night stand," murmured Remus quietly, as he and Harry moved away down the bar.

For everyone, it was the beginning. For Sirius and this woman, it was the start of a relationship. For Harry and Ginny, it was the start of a life to be shared. It was the start of new beginnings.

THE END.

A/N: So there it is…for those of you who are wondering, I did have Eponine's death planned from the very beginning. It goes along with some of the themes from the book, mainly about death. In the books, characters like Sirius and Remus seemed to be doomed to have tragic lives. Both died young after leading difficult lives. I wrote Eponine in as a sort of "What if," and she gave them second chances to lead normal lives. Things turned out fairly similar. I left the last chapter ambiguous on purpose. How things played out is for you to decide. Some characters obviously met the same fate, but several did not. She played a big role. But the biggest affect she had was after she died, although it's hard to see at first. I'll leave it for you all to figure out. Thank you to EVERYONE who left reviews. They were great. Thank you to all the people who put me on alerts or their favorites list (even those of you who put me on alerts and favorites but never reviewed, I have your names open on my computer right now). Thank to my wonderful beta who found all my retarded typos. Thanks so much for reading! I don't expect to be writing any more fan fiction, but I said that after my last story, so who knows? Keep your eyes peeled and the alerts on…something might come up soon. Chapter title song by Ludovico Einaudi. Wuv, Elbereth. ;)

(Completed June 25, 2008.)