The Tears That Fall

Fathoms of a Werewolf

November 2006

A/N: Oneshot. I’m just full of those lately, aren’t I? Anyway, this is the first in a long time that the story is in first-person point of view. Remus’s. Sad, my thoughts on what he must feel. Please enjoy, though I don’t know how enjoyable it might be….but please review!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter.

Warning: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince spoilers.

XXX

“Will he be okay?”

I remember my mother’s voice as if she had spoken right next to my ear five minutes ago. In reality, that was more than thirty years ago.

I had been five years old, scared, hurt, and lying in St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries on the first floor, confused but aware of the fact that my left arm was heavily bandaged and hurt a lot.

I didn’t really remember what had happened. I had been playing outside by myself…it was nighttime… a pretty full moon. My last memory was gazing up at it quietly. But…what was I doing in here? Then I heard my mother’s voice and I stayed very silent, hoping to hear what they were saying. My parents hadn’t noticed I was awake.

“He will survive, if that’s what you mean,” the Healer said sadly and quietly. He, I think, was aware of my consciousness; he didn’t say anything, though. Maybe…he thought I needed to hear it. “But…I am afraid that bite was from a werewolf, fully transformed. The wounds on his arm are cursed and cannot be healed completely. And…” he took a deep, shaky breath. “Once every month, at the time of the full moon, he will become a werewolf.”

Cold panic suddenly ran through my body, freezing me, stunning me. My eyes snapped open; my mother then noticed I was awake and hurried over to my side, comforting me, telling me it would be alright.

I cried then. It was the first time I’d cried since I was a baby, I suppose; I mean, I was five years old, and they were telling me that I’d have to go through this horrifyingly painful transformation once a month. I did not know it then, and I wish I never had to know it, but they were also telling me that I would be shunned by many people, denied many jobs and friends that normally would have been mine with no problem. They were telling me I would have to give up my childhood. At that moment, crying was the least of my worries.

My dad, afraid of what my future may hold, went ahead and contacted the Headmaster at Hogwarts, where both my mom and dad had gone to school. Armando Dippet was his name, and though he was very sorry, he couldn’t allow me to go to school.

They did not tell me this until I was older. I was reaching the age of eleven, would only be ten for a few more months, and nevertheless growing accustomed to the transformations, though that didn’t make them anymore pleasant. Mother and Father seemed so much sadder, so much quieter, and I did not understand why but I did not question. If it was something else, I did not want to know until I had to.

But then a handsome tawny owl flew through our window with my parents’ names written as the addressees. I caught a glimpse of an elaborate read seal with a crest for some place called Hogwarts. They read it and cried, and I did not understand why. What had caused them more tears? I was afraid I had done something bad.

But then my mother came to my room and hugged me, saying the new Headmaster of Hogwarts was willing to work out my coming to school. He had requested a meeting with me, and that very afternoon had come to my house.

He was a sight, I remember that even now. Tall and thin, deep purple robes and cloak swirling around his figure, silver stars and moons sprinkled over both. Illuminating, deep blue eyes hid behind half-moon spectacles were perched on his crooked nose. Both his hair and beard, long enough to tuck into his belt, were silver white but still a little gray, as if it wasn’t ready to be fully white yet. Those piercing blue eyes swept over the house, politely interested but with a certain twinkle that made them shine. This image would be forever engraved into my mind, that of Albus Dumbledore, who gave me hope so that I may have a normal life, if only for a little while.

He sat down with my parents and me, asking me questions about my hobbies.

He nodded approvingly at my answer to whether I liked to read. “You like to read, Remus. So do you like to learn? For I feel you cannot read without learning at least a little something.”

“Oh yes, I love to learn!” I had answered enthusiastically. “About the past and the present. I-I like to read the Daily Prophet.” I was slightly shy about that. I knew a lot of children did not read the newspapers and did not care. But I had heard my parents discussing a new werewolf law, late at night when they thought I was asleep, and from then on had always wanted to read the newspaper so I could see it for myself. Glancing sheepishly over at my parents I noticed their looks of surprise.

Dumbledore’s mouth twitched. “Well, I am surprised at that but undoubtedly impressed. Many of my sixth and seventh years ignore the Daily Prophet and could not care less what the latest statement of the Minister was or how the Department of International Cooperation is having trouble finding a new place for the Quidditch World Cup.” He looked thoughtful. “Well, I suppose some read the sports sections… But no doubt, I am impressed.” He had studied me carefully, then, silent moments that stretched on end and lasted both seconds and millennia. Then he finally spoke. “Remus, I can see that you would do well at Hogwarts. Very well. You have not become vicious and bitter as many werewolves do, which I am very proud of, though I do not know you personally.

“I believe you would be a strong addition to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I for one hate depriving young people of education and an opportunity to give parents everywhere some peace for half a year.” He now turned to my parents, who had hopeful looks on their faces. “I think we can find a way for young Remus here to go to school. A secret place, perhaps…” A thoughtful look overtook his face again. “I will have to discuss this with Minerva. There is a lot for sale in Hogsmeade…perhaps we could build a house there? But how would we get…maybe a tunnel…but guarding the tunnel…? Perhaps a Whompin-? Maybe that will work. Ah, well,” he said, waving a hand dismissively while we watched him, stunned and confused from his conversation with himself, “I will have to discuss this with many of the teachers there. But we will be very glad to have you, Remus.”

He stood, shaking my hand, then my father’s, before bowing and kissing my mother’s hand. “You will receive your letter shortly, Remus, on your eleventh birthday. It will contain your book list. School starts on September 1st; I assume you remember how to get onto the Platform?” the faintest of smiles graced his lined face, and they smiled back and nodded. “Then I will be on my way,” he said, nodding to us all. “Good day to you, and I will see you, Remus,” he looked at me, “in a few months’ time.”

He strode out of the living room, letting himself out of the front door, before Disapparating to wherever it is that Dumbledore goes.

I was thrilled! I’d get to go to school! Have friends! As long as I kept it hidden and didn’t let them know or see me when I was transformed, they wouldn’t know!

My parents were happy for me too. Immediately after he left they came over, squeezing me tight, happy tears spilling down all of our faces.

If I didn’t tell anyone about what I really was, I could have friends! It was a prospect I’d never considered before.

But then I met James Potter and Sirius Black. We met on the train, our first day of school. Both were the eldest sons of prominent Wizarding families. I had heard of the Blacks…not necessarily good things, but I had heard of them. But I had also heard of the Potters’ great reputation. I had met James first and we had gotten off quite nicely, before the door had banged open to reveal a thoroughly pissed off boy with long, sleek black hair. It fell around his face in a way that assumed casual elegance and even as an eleven year old I could see that he would catch a lot of the girls’ looks.

He stormed in and soon an older girl, who looked to be about a fourth or fifth year, yelling at him to put on the Slytherin badge.

“How do you know I’ll even be in Slytherin, Bella?” he asked angrily. His expression then changed to that of someone slightly guilty but still angry when her face paled.

“How can you even say that?” she screeched. Then she noticed who else was in the carriage. Well, mostly she noticed James. “Potter.”

“Black,” he said, and his face grew stony.

“Yes, I’d forgotten,” she said, snidely thoughtful. “The Potter kid starts school now…I was wondering if I’d get the…pleasure of meeting you.”

“Well, now you have,” James said coldly, and I was suddenly impressed. I was not sure if I had the courage to stand up to someone like that.

“Potter?” the younger boy said. He looked at James thoughtfully, but without the menace the older girl – Bella – had. He glanced up at the girl mischievously before turning back to James. “Hi, I’m Sirius Black. Wanna be friends?” He stuck out his hand for James to shake, who just stared at him in shock.

The girl stared down at him in horror. “Sirius, what do you think you’re doing?” she screeched.

Sirius shrugged. “Makin’ friends,” he said simply. “So?” he said, turning back to James.

James squinted his eyes a little before smiling and putting his hand out to shake Sirius’s. “Sure, my name’s James. This is Remus,” he said, gesturing towards me.

“Hullo, Remus,” Sirius said gleefully. Bella’s expression was priceless. “I’m Sirius, would you like to be friends too?”

He held out his hand, and I immediately shook it. “Yeah!” I said excitedly. Two friends! While I was a little suspicious, I trusted James and if James thought he was worthy…so did I. And how could I pass up the chance to have another friend?

Bella left in a huff and we all joked about it, and before soon we were planning other ways to annoy her. Sirius, it seems, hated his family and was very different from everything I’d ever heard about the Blacks. He and James seemed to hit it off almost immediately but they both seemed to like me a lot – I was thrilled. Then another boy came in, Peter Pettigrew, and although he was unlike us in almost everyway – both James and Sirius were very outgoing and obviously athletic; I was skinny because of my transformations (though they didn’t know that) and young and still a bit naïve and while I wasn’t as open as they were, I was a little. Peter was a little on the pudgy side, and had this nervousness about him constantly. But James and Sirius invited him in and soon we were all joking and looking forward to a new year, I especially with my first three friends.

After a few years – after one year – they would get suspicious, of course. How was it that my mother would always fall ill once a month? Both Sirius and James were very smart. Soon they would notice that it happened to be around the time of a full moon. I would always push this thought back but I knew sooner or later they would figure it out.

The thought filled me with horror and sadness.

During my third year, as I was sitting in the Shrieking Shack waiting for the night to come, I began to think about it. I had mentioned, not being able to look at them, that my mother had unfortunately fallen ill again and I had to leave. I had noticed the suspicious unbelieving looks they all gave me and left the common room with a heavy heart.

I knew that if they didn’t already suspect, they knew. And it crushed me inside.

While James could forgive Sirius of a horrible family, while Sirius could find a friend in one who was supposed to be an enemy, and while both could befriend Peter Pettigrew, I knew it was too much to ask for to think they might stay friends with me.

After they knew the horrible monster that lay inside me, waiting for the moon’s call to release itself.

And before I could control it, tears were pouring down my face, unable to be stopped. Night fell and I was still crying, crying as I transformed and my moans and cries that night as a werewolf were louder and more painful than ever, because somehow the monster in me was in pain too.

After that full moon as I returned to the common room, I was fully prepared for everyone to know my secret. I was fully prepared to be shunned by my three best friends, prepared for the disgust in their eyes as they turned me away.

So when they beckoned me to follow them into the dormitory, grave looks on their faces, I knew what was coming. They sat on the beds around me and James softly said they knew why it was I left every month.

Sighing, I got up slowly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I said. “I knew you wouldn’t want to be friends with me. I’ll leave now…tell McGonagall you don’t want to share a room with a werewolf.”

“Are you kidding?” Sirius burst out, shock on his face. “Why would we want you to leave? We’ve known you for three years! You’re not a beast, Remus,” he said.

“Yeah, Remus,” James said. “You think we’d leave you because of something you can’t control? You must not know us very well. What kind of friends would we be?”

I smiled weakly. “I assumed…”

“Regardless of what other people may have done in your life,” Sirius said, a concerned and dead-set expression on his face, “We will always be your friends, as long as you are ours.”

I did not notice the hopeful look on my face, and they did not notice as I lay there that night, a tear escaped my eye to fall on the pillow.

I explained where it was I went to transform and soon James had an idea. He would not tell me, however, but he did tell Sirius and Peter.

A few months later, they pulled me over to the side and explained what they were doing – they were becoming Anamagi. James said that he had heard is DADA teacher say that werewolves only harmed humans, not animals. He explained that he and Sirius had found the way to become Anamagi and Peter had agreed to it also, as long as they helped him figure it out.

At the time, I was ecstatic. I was thirteen and did not care about the dangers this could bring, or how much trouble it might get us into. All I cared about was that my friends, my best friends, were willing to break the law just to help me.

But things kept getting better. Lily Evans, a good friend of mine (which irked James to no end) but also a very smart friend of mine also figured out my secret. She told me in the fifth year, that she had figured it out sometime ago but mentioned it to no one. She, however, also refused to stop being my friend, insisting I was a wonderful person no matter what I changed into or when.

In sixth year she and James began to casually date. I will admit I had a small crush on Lily, perhaps because she was the first girl to know about all of me and not be afraid or repulsed. The smallest spark of jealousy was planted in my heart but soon it died, because I knew that she would always be James’s. I knew because of the way he looked at her, the way his expression grew soft when she was mentioned. The way she blushed when James would kiss her hand.

A year after graduation, she and James got married on the very grounds of Hogwarts, in front of the lake – a place we had traveled many a time, except with animal feet instead of our own.

But no matter how good things get, something bad always comes soon after. “What comes up must come down,” they used to say.

Because a year after the first child of James and Lily Potter, Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts and two of the best people – and best friends – one could ask for was born, the legendary son of the famous Potters, they were murdered, both dying to protect the ones they loved.

Needless to say, everything went down from there.

Two of my best friends were dead. Two of the only people who’d accepted me for who I was were gone, forever, taken coldly and too soon. For the first few weeks afterward it did not matter that their son, at least, was still alive or that Lord Voldemort was gone. Because so were two of the greatest people you could know.

And at their funeral, the tears poured down. Because not only were they gone, but so where the rest of my best friends. And not only did I feel the loss of death, but also I felt the sense of betrayal, because it was named that Sirius Black – the almost brother of James Potter – had been tried as the reason they were murdered and thrown into prison.

My almost brother had been tried and thrown in prison.

And Peter Pettigrew was dead.

In one week, my four best friends died. Because to me, Sirius Black had died. He was not the person I had thought he was. I knew his family had the history for it, knew that everyone thought he’d turn as black as his name, but I had trusted him, trusted that he wouldn’t succumb to it.

And, as far as I knew, he had.

And so the tears I cried at the funeral of James and Lily were not only for them. But, I shamefully admit, for myself also. Because no one was left. No one.

And then I remembered Harry Potter. Harry James Potter, the boy who already had a tuft of messy black hair and gleaming emerald eyes.

It seemed like all my hopes had fallen on the little one year old boy, lying in what remained of his crib and crying, not understanding that he’d never see his mother’s pretty face or hear her sing; nor would he hear his father’s rich laugh and sense of humor, even after marriage and fatherhood still obtaining that child-like personality he had had in his last years of Hogwarts.

I didn’t see Harry that Halloween night, but I did go and see the house. Sirius had gone there, from what I understood, after looking in on Peter and finding him missing. Hagrid had gone there, too, on Dumbledore’s orders to take Harry to his aunt and uncle.

After Hagrid had left was when I had arrived. I stepped where, normally, the front door would have been. About five stairs remained; the others seemed to have collapsed.

There was a square blanket spread out over two lumps. Against my better judgment, I stepped over to it and lifted up the corner of the blanket. Lily was lying there, two Sickles placed over her eyes to keep them closed. A lump rose in my throat. So beautiful, so young. She had confided to me that she and James were already thinking about having another baby. They’d never be able to do that now.

I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to stand to see James’s face, but I did anyway. There was some sort of closure, some force that pushed me to do it, as if it would be real if I could just see it, no matter how painful it was.

His glasses were missing, but I noticed they were tucked into his shirt pocket. He, too, had Sickles on his eyelids to keep them closed. The blanket’s corner slipped through my fingers, back into place. I stood up and walked out from the rubble and onto the street corner.

That night I’d planned on visiting Sirius once before he himself went under the Fidelius Charm. When he wasn’t there, I grew worried. I had opened the door but something on his counter caught my eye. It was a piece of paper and, written clearly in Sirius’s handwriting, was Godric’s Hollow.

Which, of course, was how I’d known where to find James and Lily.

After their funeral and Sirius’s imprisonment, I just moved around, seeking old friends – who either didn’t know who I was or accepted it – and made sure there was no one around when transformations came around. That was how I lived, for twelve years.

Then I got an owl from Dumbledore, asking me if I’d like to take the Defense Against the Dark Arts post at Hogwarts. He said the school was still recovering from someone completely unstable as a teacher and remembered that I had always been good at helping others to work out school problems. He also mentioned the Wolfs Bane Potion, which would allow me to simply transform into a wolf and sleep throughout the full moon, instead of having to go into the Shrieking Shack and endure such pain. Dumbledore said that Severus Snape, the current Potions master, would be more than happy to make it for me every month.

That year was possibly the most uplifting year I’d had since Lily and James had gotten married. I got to see James again, in a sense; Harry was more like his father than he’d probably ever know. Being somehow able to help James’s son mature seemed fufilling. Harry had never had a father; being able to substitute, at least only for a year, would be for James’s memory. He would have done the same thing, had the roles been switched.

I also got one of my best friends back. I discovered the truth about Sirius and Peter; Sirius escaped, and I couldn’t very well visit him (or vise-versa) but still, the knowledge that he hadn’t betrayed Lily and James was wonderful news.

When Voldemort came back, somehow the weight of that never fully rested on my shoulders until it was too late. I couldn’t imagine what Harry must have gone through there in the graveyard but all I could think was that I would have my best friend back. With Voldemort out in the open again, people would realize Sirius was not one of them.

And then he came to stay with me. Of course, it wasn’t like old times; it could never be like old times. But for me, who had lived a life alone since that Halloween night, it was close enough.

I stayed with Sirius when they moved Order headquarters to his old house. I’d only been there a couple of times, when James, Peter, and I had planned on getting together during the summer and we were waiting for him to get his things. He’d ask us inside, but never up to his room, or into the kitchen. Always just standing at the front door. When we asked him about it, he seemed almost ashamed and would refuse to talk about it anymore.

But now he was forced here once again. This time, at least, he had people around him who enjoyed his company and didn’t think he was a traitor; with the exception, of course, of his mother’s portrait. Having Harry back, especially, seemed to brighten him up again. He may have been a bit irresponsible back when we were at Hogwarts, but he was doing, in my opinion, a wonderful job at being a father figure for Harry. Harry looked up to Sirius, and they shared a bond no one would be able to break.

Harry’s fifth year went by, as normal as one could except under the circumstances. But then, sometime near the end of the year and in the evening, a random message appeared from Severus, stating that Harry had gone to the Ministry.

“To the Ministry?” Sirius had said angrily. “Why on earth would he go there?”

The message continued on to say that Harry had seen a vision of Sirius being tortured in the Ministry and he had gone to save him. A crack was made about playing the hero but Sirius said nothing about that because he was looking up at me, wide-eyed.

“He went – to save me?” I knew, of course, that Sirius would do anything for Harry. The fact that Harry would do anything for Sirius hadn’t crossed his mind; at least, until now. From the look in his eyes he was thinking that it was something his father would do, and Harry probably didn’t even realize it.

But none of the people there at Grimmauld Place could dwell on it long. Time was short and, at the insistence of Sirius, he accompanied us soon to the Ministry.

The room we found Harry and the others in was large and circular. In the center of the room was a dias, with an archway on it, a dark veil hanging in front of the opening. He and the others were currently doing battle with several Death Eaters.

Time seemed to freeze as we battled against the Death Eaters; they just seemed to keep coming, and coming...

And then suddenly, a hope filled my chest as I’d never known. A tall, thin figure was standing in the doorway. Albus Dumbledore had come.

Everyone noticed except for two people.

And one of them was Sirius. And time seemed to slow even more as his mouth opened and he taunted Bella, as she lifted her wand and a red beam shot out, as he fell back into the archway, both shocked and a little frightened.

Of course, as I said before, good things always come to an end before they should. Every good feeling I’d ever had was suddenly sucked out of me, leaving a cold, icy feeling in my stomach. No, Sirius couldn’t die, he just couldn’t –

But I had to stop thinking about it and keep Harry from doing something stupid. I couldn’t do anything I wanted to do – scream, cry, yell, hit something – because that wouldn’t be good for Harry. He was having a bad time with it as it was without me losing my cool.

Even before I had time to acknowledge it, I was already acting as Sirius would – someone who had another person’s life to think about, not their own. Suddenly I knew what it must have been like for Sirius, all those years in Azkaban, dwelling on the fact that his godson was hundreds of miles away, most likely in danger, and there was nothing Sirius could do to help him. I suddenly knew what Sirius must have felt when Harry was entered into the Triwizard Tournament. I suddenly knew how precious that bond was, and how important it was to keep it alive, to keep Harry alive...

Because I had seen Sirius’s face as he fell back into the archway. Even in his last seconds, he had only thought of Harry, because as he fell, right before he touched the hangings, his eyes fell on his godson.

Several feelings rushed into my stomach, making it churn with a need to make sure Harry survived this, make sure he lived on, for James...

But after that the Order and Dumbledore stood in the way of, hopefully, creating a bond with Harry. A bond that, surely, wouldn’t be near as great as the one between Harry and Sirius; but a bond none the less.

I was busy trying to convince the werewolves that it was better for them to go with Dumbledore. Well, I wasn’t trying to convince them, yet. I had to gain their trust first, and to do that I had to convince them that I was one of them. Oh, it was obvious that I was one of them, physically, but I had to convince them that I was one of them mentally.

I had been staying at a hotel, located near where the other werewolves were. When they asked me why I went into town, I lied: I said that, during my time with humans, I’d developed a hunger for alcohol and went to a bar every night. They believed it; after all, they didn’t know much about human society, having been living in exile all of their lives.

It was then that Tonks had come to find me. She had Apparated quickly to where she knew I was staying to tell me that Death Eaters had somehow found their way into Hogwarts and she needed my help. Immediately, I agreed to come.

I had a foreboding feeling crash into my stomach when I arrived at Hogwarts with Tonks. Something wasn’t right; I knew it.

“Where’s Dumbledore?” I had said suddenly, staring around for the tall, thin figure with gleaming silver-white hair.

“He and Harry went somewhere,” Tonks replied quietly, and my foreboding feeling increased. I was now filled with a sense of dread; nothing good could come from this. Without Dumbledore? What on earth could he and Harry be doing?

We soon met up with the Death Eaters and started battling. After what seemed like ages, in which we tried to get up to the Astronomy Tower but it was blocked, Severus and Lucius Malfoy’s son rushed down, through the barrier and past us. We let them go – Severus shouted something but I didn’t understand what - sure that the main threat was coming down the stairs any minute now, that’s why they were running, and then we would hold whoever it was until Dumbledore and Harry got back...

But as soon as I had thought that, Harry came rushing down the stairs, a look of cold determination on his face. Underneath that was something like horrified fury; what was that all about? And where was Dumbledore?

Someone rushed at me and, ensued in battle, I watched out of the corner of my eye as Harry fought passed a Death Eater – Fenrir – and rushed toward Ginny, taking out the Death Eater that was battling her, but not stopping when she called after him.

He ran past Minerva and Neville, shooting curses at any of the Death Eaters that tried to stop him. I didn’t have to think clearly, to create a logical explanation as to why Harry was chasing Severus and Malfoy - one, an ex-Death Eater and the other, son of one - and actually chasing them, why he had such a look on his face, and why Dumbledore wasn’t there with him, ensnaring all of the Death Eaters with his expression of endless calm; healing Bill, who was laying on the floor in a pool of blood; telling us that, once again, good had prevailed, if only for the time being...

Harry disappeared through the great oak doors after Severus and Malfoy. I didn’t question anymore as to why they had gone outside the castle until we were in the hospital wing, waiting for them.

We had rushed Bill to the hospital wing after we’d finally managed to render all of the Death Eaters unconscious, and were all crowded around his bed as Madame Pomfrey tried her best to heal him.

I noticed that Ginny had been looking around the room, and suddenly she said quietly, “I’m going to go find Harry.”

With that, she left the room, the door creaking shut behind her.

It was only a matter of minutes before the door opened again, Ginny pulling Harry, her hand wrapped securely around his. I saw his eyes travel over Neville’s sleeping form in the bed across from Bill’s, and then all of us, clustered around the Bill. Hermione and I rushed to them, the former engulfing him in a hug. He said he was fine when I asked him how he was.

Ron looked around at me and kept asking questions about Bill’s fate. “But Dumbledore will know something that should help, right?” Ron said matter of factly, looking at everyone’s faces to see agreement. I frowned when I saw something flicker over Harry’s face. Then Ginny spoke up quietly.

“He’s dead, Ron.”

All of the air rushed out of my lungs at once. “No!” Wildly, I looked to Harry; his silence confirmed the horrible truth. I collapsed onto a chair next to Bill’s bed, my head in my hands. But there was something wrong with the gaping hole deep within my heart...

They continued their conversation; piecing together the events that led up to Dumbledore’s death. I put in my part when needed; other than that, I remained silent, wondering...

Of course, after something bad happens something good happens. I knew Tonks’s feelings for me, but I wouldn’t accept it. I couldn’t accept that she accepted me; I didn’t want to put her through that kind of pain. Of having to live with someone like me...how she could love me, love what I was. But she saw past that; she saw inside.

But what will happen to her? First, my childhood was taken away from me. Then two of my best friends, James and Lily. Then my last best friend, Sirius. And now Dumbledore. I don’t want to add Tonks to that list.

But that’s just it.

I was outside the same bar I’d sat at after I’d left the Potters’ ruined house. The same bar where I’d heard that Sirius had escaped. The same bar I’d gone to after I’d quit teaching Hogwarts; after Voldemort had come back; after Sirius had died; and now I was there, after attending Dumbledore’s funeral. Except this time, I wasn’t in there. No…I did not need that anymore. Because this time, I was waiting for someone.

I clutched the object in my left pocket and glanced at my watch. She was supposed to have been here by now...

Suddenly, I felt an arm slip through mine and I looked up to see Tonks’s smiling face. Her hair was once again spiky and pink and she was smiling sadly.

“How’re you doing?” she whispered, and used her free hand to brush some of the bangs from my eyes. I smiled at her and nodded for us to begin walking, which we did. We spoke as we walked, stopping at a bench on the sidewalk a few buildings away from the bar. I took a few moments to answer.

“So much has happened to me, in my life,” I finally answered softly. “And I’ve cried.” I felt her arm tighten around mine, as if she wanted to hug me and erase all of the pain. No matter how appealing that sounds, it just can’t be done. I’ve learned that the hard way.

“But now,” I said, and slipped an arm around her waist. “I can’t. I realized something, at the funeral.” I stared down at her, my thoughts rolling around in my head. Should I say it? Should I dare take the chance?

My pause seemed to have unnerved her. “What?” she whispered, eyes glued to my face, her expression still.

“You have to treasure what you have,” I said slowly. “I know that sounds like a Hallmark card, but I realized that you have to defy what is put out for you and enjoy life anyway.”

The corner of her mouth twitched, and I leant down to kiss her quickly. She blushed a little, and I smiled. “And do you know how I’m going to start enjoying life?”

She looked up at me curiously, her blush forgotten. “What?” she repeated.

I stuck my hand into my pocket, fingering the little velvet box. “Tonks,” I said thoughtfully, softly, “I have something for you.”

Her frown deepened out of thought. “A gift?”

And at that moment, I dropped to my knee and revealed the little box, opening it slowly. “I also have a question for you.”

Her eyes were as wide as saucers, immediately having widened so when I had knelt down. “R-Remus…”

“Will you marry me?” I continued, a large smile growing on my face even as her eyes clouded with tears. She dropped down beside me, not even bothering to get the box from me, only using her hands to throw themselves around my neck.

“Remus,” she whispered, “You never had to ask.”

And it wasn’t only her tears that clouded sight, it was also my own. As the tears streamed down my face and I tried to concentrate on the buildings around us, the fake trees and the sidewalk, I realized that through my life, many tears have fallen.

And I knew that these were not going to be the last ones. Dumbledore’s death would not be the last blow to my ever-decreasing friends from years past.

But I also knew that there were many great things in the future, also. I knew that eventually, Harry would overcome. And I knew that I would be there, at his wedding. Because I know that Lily won’t be the last red-haired Potter.

And even if the tears fell more times than they should have in my life, many times they weren’t that bad. And when tears of pain fell, sooner or later tears of happiness would fall again.

So I thought, maybe I can stand a few times of unhappiness.

If I get times like these, more times with a certain spiky-pink haired witch who seems to love me.

No matter how many times I’ve cried.

XXX

A/N: Well that’s over. I realize the ending may be lame because I suck at endings, plain and simple. I tend to ramble. Like I did here. But please, tell me what you thought? My first oneshot EVER without a romantic center! I’d like to know how I do in other genres, because many stories I have bouncing around in my head seem to stray from the romantic boundaries my other fics have been imprisoned by. So…review please!!

Thanks for reading. Happy Thanksgiving!!