Summary: Remus returns from his trip to Hogwarts feeling desolate and confused. Snape's memory had more to do with Remus than Harry had realised, and now he finds himselfbattling with his own memories and grief.Was what Remus was begining to remember for himself, from all those years ago, significant? As Remus begins to reflect on the Marauders sixth year at Hogwarts he begins to realise just what it was that caused so much bitterness between himself and Sirius; and that maybe their friendship meant morethan Remus ever realised.

A/N: This fic follows on from themes and questions already established in my previous fic "Patient Potions Master." I don't know if this fic will be as well understood if you haven't read that one first...I think it definately helps with the reasoning behind WHY I decided to write this next. For those of you who have already read that fic, I hope that this one helps to clarify things further; and that this fic is as well recieved as the last.

Disclaimer: I don't own them...honest...so don't sue.


All day the threat of rain had hung overhead; all day the clouds had remained black with the promise, and yet still it had not come. A solitary figure can be seen walking through the streets of London, his eyes fixed in front of him, completely unaware of the sky. He passes shops and people and bustling Underground stations, yet his mind is somewhere else; he left his mind at Hogwarts, all those hours ago.

Now as he walks through muggle London, oblivious to those who stop and stare at the man with sandy coloured hair and dead eyes; his unusual robes moth-eaten and worn, he hardly hears what they whisper as he passes.

It doesn't seem to matter now he thinks, walking out too soon in front of the traffic, only to be met with angry toots from the drivers. He smiles apologetically before moving on, ignoring the expletives that the cab drivers shout. Their words are pointless; they don't seem to reach him.

He turns down the alley way, the walls are sprayed with graffiti. Many muggles would be scared to venture here alone with nothing but the dim, orange street lamp to light their way. As if afraid, his hand grasps inside his robe, closing around his wand tightly; the feeling of it comforting him slightly as he walks. As he turns into the street which holds his destination, the sky begins to break.

In the rain he walks; a rain which softly caresses his tired face, drizzling down over his back as he narrowly avoids being splashed by a bus. For the first time in miles he raises his face to the sky, his eyelashes catching the water which is falling in mists all around as he inhales deeply. He knows he will be there soon.

He thinks and it appears, squeezing its way out between the two houses either side, their muggle occupants completely unaware of what lies next door. With heavy feet he climbs the steps and pushes the front door open and, without even glancing back, he closes the door behind him, and the house disappears.

Remus presses his back to the door and buries his head in his hands. Grimmauld Place would never be the same for him now; it had lost the only thing that had ever made it bearable to live in. Now he couldn't stand to be here; surrounded by nothing but cold, empty darkness. Sadness had fallen like a shroud over everything. Yet as Remus opens his eyes to gaze on the dimly lit corridor, he feels his heart lift as he sense him…his trace…his touch…in everything.

As he walks to the kitchen Remus knows that it will be empty; he seemed to be the only member of the Order who used Grimmauld Place now. Of course, it was still the headquarters, but after the events of the past few months many were unwilling to enter a place that had, if only for a short time, been the residence of the one they had lost. The Weasleys had returned to The Burrow; Molly had never liked the place much, and after what her family had been through she had decided that staying at The Burrow would be best. Tonks had been to visit more than the others; often she would turn up unannounced and scold him for spending so much time on his own. He welcomed her interference; sometimes the house proved too much; its solemnity was draining.

Remus puts the kettle on the stove and lights the gas with a flick of his wand, leaning back against the sideboard to stare at the wallpaper which is yellowing; the mildew obscuring its pattern. As he stares he once again hears Snape's cruel, hard voice in his head Perhaps not…she was not exactly to your tastes was she?

The kettle whistles and steam rises from the spout and without taking his eyes from the wall, Remus mutters under his breath in its direction, causing the water to pour into the cup he has set out; the tea spoon begining to stir. Snape had tried to hurt him…that cold, distant voice had said those words and it had worked. He had known just what to say to make him remember the pains of his past…the pains of years long gone. Remus sits down at the kitchen table, the cup hovering towards him and as he takes it he winces to hear the question Harry had asked him I want to know Remus…I want to know what Sirius and my dad fought about that night…

Suddenly the cup falls from Remus' hand and smashes on the floor, sending the light golden liquid oozing across the tiles. Harry had asked him and he had feigned ignorance…he had acted as if he hadn't known…that it hadn't happened. Suddenly, Remus can feel the familiar surroundings swim, his head becomes heavy as he blinks slowly, trying to rid himself of the black shapes that seem to float across his eyes. He hadn't even meant to do it he thinks to himself, rubbing his face with his hands, as he blinks again to steady his gaze. Harry had just assumed…it hadn't really been a lie…


This is just a prologue of what is to come next, picking up on certain things which are raised in "Patient Potions Master". What do you think?