Warnings: angst, mentions of death, but happy ending
Written for @darlingdelacour’s 12 Days of Angst challenge!
Moodboard is by my amazing bestie @ghosts-of-hogwarts! If you think this was good, check out her fics 😉 you won’t be disappointed!
Christmas. Usually a time of joy; of unbridled happiness inside that made you feel giddy, so much joy that you felt like you’d overflow at any moment. Yet here you were, a deep, melancholy pit having replaced the warm pot of happiness.
Christmas. A time to be with friends and family; to share the love and joy that came pouring from a seemingly endless supply in your heart. Yet here you stood, alone in the snow, with not a living soul to be seen.
Christmas. A time of warmth, a time to be carefree as a bird, to let the stress and worries of your daily life melt away like the snow falling from your boots upon entering. A time to enjoy the pleasures of life without a single vexing thought nagging at you in the back of your mind. And yet, as the first tear trickled down your cheek and you fought to keep the cracking dam holding them at bay intact, you wondered if you’d ever get to have that again.
Snowflakes floated down on the icy wind, some getting caught in your hair while the rest fell at your feet. You shivered, pulling your – or actually, your fiancé’s – beige shawl tighter around your neck, but made no move to leave, to go to a warmer place. Your eyes remained fixed upon the thick trunk of the tree before you, one of many trees standing scattered hither and thither on the snowy carpet.
The tree looked almost identical to all the rest of them, but it was only this tree which held one of your most treasured memories.
Your hand reached out to touch the wood, fingertips tracing the heart carved into the bark. The heart symbolizing your love and the promise of forever, of a life together, further reinforced by the initials carved inside it. Yours and his; Remus Lupin and (y/n) (y/l/n).
Your touch lingered over his initials. You came here daily since he passed, in an attempt to hold on to everything you had. When you stood here, even though the branches of the tree were bare, even though the landscape resembled little more than a barren wasteland, it felt as if Remus were still here, standing beside you with one arm slung over your shoulders.
You still remembered the exact day you made these markings together. The memory of that wonderful summer day in the little forest near your parents’ house was something you’d cherish forever.
Remus pulled you along, both your hands held tightly in his warm ones. You were both laughing, the happiness rolling off of you in waves.
You knew exactly where he was taking you; you went there every chance you got. It was quiet and secluded, and beautiful too. It was your peaceful shelter, your little woodland kingdom, your escape from the world. It was your spot, something only the two of you knew about.
His beautiful honey brown eyes held you captive, captive in a prison you never wanted to escape from.
You had forgotten all the little unimportant things you talked about that day. Deemed irrelevant by your brain, they had been discarded in favor of setting the most beautiful moments in stone so you’d never forget.
At one point, you were sitting between his legs as he leant against the tree, wrapping you in his warm embrace.
“Remus?” you asked tentatively.
He hummed, a signal for you to continue.
“Will- will we still be together in ten years? Like, long after we’ve left Hogwarts?”
“Always, (y/n),” his soft voice murmured in your ear. He knew about your fears, that someday he’d get bored of you or you’d fall out of love, and he was always very patient in reassuring you. “I promise that I’ll always love you. I’m not leaving, not unless you want me to.”
Why did he have to be so sweet? The surge of love you felt for him made you want to laugh and cry at the same time. It felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest so you could offer it to him on a silver platter. You knew he wouldn’t drop it.
Instead, you settled for kissing his jaw, as it was the only part you could reach. You felt his blush before you saw it, his skin becoming even warmer than usual beneath your touch.
“You’re adorable,” you giggled, patting his burning cheek. A whine was all you received in reply as he hid his face in your neck.
“Yep, adorable.”
Perhaps you should have suspected something when he didn’t respond, but you were blissfully unaware of his intentions. Suddenly, he dug his fingers into your sides, grinning mischievously.
“Remus!” you squealed, squirming in his hold as you tried to shove him off.
He moved with you as you struggled to your feet, all the while trying to pry his hands off of your waist. Your merry laughter rang through the air, frightening away some birds, but that was the least of your worries.
At last he relented, letting you shove him back against the tree. You took a moment to admire him as you caught your breath; his grin was so bright it could rival the sun, the moon, and all the stars put together. His eyes caught the light and for a split second, they looked the exact color of spun gold. If only you could take a picture of him in that fleeting moment, cut it out and put it into a locket, and never take it off.
His face lit up even more if that was possible; lit up with an idea.
“Wait!” he exclaimed, fishing his pocket knife out of his pants pocket. “Watch this.”
And that was when he carved your love into the tree trunk; a declaration of the intense feelings you harbored for one another. A promise, a wish, a plea for a lifetime like this, a lifetime to love each other.
When he turned back towards you, stuffing the knife back into his pocket, you wasted no time jumping into his arms. He caught you, and you proceeded to press kisses to every part of his face you could reach, in the hopes that it could at least convey a fraction of your love for him.
A warm kiss on the lips spoke all the words you needed.
‘I love you too.’
Warmth. Remus meant warmth. From his natural body temperature to his smiles; from the way he looked at you with those mesmerizing honey brown eyes to the warmth of his embrace; from his favorite sweaters to the way he made tea and hot cocoa; from his love for you to all the memories you had together, everything about Remus Lupin meant warmth.
Where was the warmth now? Ever since you had received news of Remus’s passing, the warmth had disappeared. It died together with your fiancé, the love of your life. Now, everywhere you looked, everywhere you turned, you were met with nothing but bitter cold.
“(y/n)?”
You froze. That voice…
“Love?”
There it was again. You couldn’t have imagined it; there was no way you’d torture yourself like that.
You turned around then, slowly, almost afraid of what you might see. There, not even ten steps away from you, stood the spitting image of Remus Lupin.
How was this possible? He was dead, had been for the past half year. It was no figment of your imagination either; he looked real enough to touch.
“Remus…” you whispered, and he felt his heart soar.
Six months. It had been six long, trying months since he had last seen you. You looked every bit as beautiful as he remembered you. All he could hope for now was that you didn’t hate him.
After the mission, the circumstances didn’t allow him to come home, or to contact you. It was nearly torture for him to be away from you for so long. He longed to have you in his arms once more, praying to whatever deity would listen to let him return home. He endured all of it patiently, for you.
He took a couple steps closer to you, arms reaching for you tentatively. As if shaken from a trance, your entire demeanor changed and you shield away from him.
You saw the confusion and hurt in his eyes, and you hated yourself for causing it. ‘It’s not him,’ you reminded yourself. ‘It’s not him.”
“(y/n)-”
“Stay away from me.” Drawing your wand, you took a deep, shaky breath and pointed it at him. “Don’t touch me.”
He expected this, expected you to be angry with him. How could you not be, after he disappeared for so long without a trace? It stung; it felt like someone had decided to use his heart as a pincushion, but if he had to earn your forgiveness, so be it. He was determined to do anything for it.
Remus dropped to his knees, his honey brown eyes pleading for a chance. A chance to explain, a chance to love you again, a chance for… anything, anything at all.
“I know you’re angry with me, and you have every right to be, but please hear me out.” His hand slowly rose to push your wand aside, his eyes not leaving yours. “If I had the chance, I would have come back, or at least sent you an owl. But it was too dangerous. I couldn’t risk you getting hurt.”
“Don’t pretend to care about me,” you snarled, swatting his hands away and aligning the tip of your wand with his throat once more. “Now leave. Get out of my sight or I’ll hex you.”
You were perfectly capable of that. Your voice might be trembling but you could hex him in the blink of an eye, and both you and Remus knew this.
Neither of you moved for several moments, both waiting for the other to make the first move.
And he did.
Catching you off guard, he lunged forward, prying your wand out of your hand. You tried to pull your wrist out of his grip, but he was too strong, easily succeeding in wrestling you down to the snowy ground.
“(y/n), it’s me,” he pleaded, his own voice cracking. “It’s me, Remus.”
“No!” you cried, tears welling up in your eyes, and Remus felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. “Remus is gone; he’s dead, he’s never coming back and you’re just here as a cruel prank!”
For one vital moment, Remus froze in shock, allowing you to flip him onto his back and hover over him as he had previously done to you. You had snatched up your wand from the snow as well, knowing full well you’d otherwise be no match for his strength.
Was that what they’d told you? No wonder you were so hostile towards him. Remus stared at you, speechless. You believed he was dead; that he had perished on the mission. How much grief that must have caused you… it was unimaginable.
“(y/n), love, it’s really me. Who told you I died?”
“Prove it,” you snapped. “Prove that you’re really my lover and not and apparition or some shapeshifter. Prove it.”
“Remember… remember the first time I tried to ask you out? I scribbled a note in the corner of the first page of the textbook I borrowed from you and you just missed it completely. That’s when I learned you never look at the table of contents.”
You lowered your wand, and he took it as a sign to continue.
“And the first time our times of the month aligned. Sirius and James were so scared they waited on your every command. If I remember correctly, you also ate almost all of my chocolate stash.”
He noticed you were starting to believe him, and he took the opportunity to flip you over again so he was on top.
“When you invited me over to meet your parents and I was ready to cry because of how nervous I was and how accepting they were. The time we decided to buy this house together and you told me you’d always dreamed of a house in the middle of nowhere. When I left on the mission, and you begged me not to go… but I went anyway. I’m sorry, love, I’m so, so sorry.”
Your tears finally flowed freely down your cheeks. It was him, really, truly him. He was alive, and back, and… You couldn’t form words or thoughts, you just clung onto him as you sobbed.
He wrapped his arms around you protectively, whispering soothing words in your ear.
Tears roll down your cheeks, the room still shaking from the force of the door slamming closed. Smoke curled around the room, smelling like ink. The letters were in the fire, thrown down in a fit of anger. But now the anger had subsided, leaving only heartbreak.
Acting upon impulse, you snatch the surviving letters out of the fire, batting away the small, stubborn flames that were still eating away at the paper. The ink had faded, leaving some of the words illegible.
Flicking through the papers, wistful written words of ‘I love you’s and sweet nothings broke through your tear-clouded eyes. Letters upon letters written back and forth for years, only for it all to be torn down in a single second.
The burnt pages left ashes on your fingers, but your mind was full of nostalgic love. Bittersweet memories were recalled, making you cry even more. Did everything have to fail? Couldn’t something have worked out for once?
Some of the pages had been eaten away by the fire so much that you couldn’t read what it said, leaving it all up to imagination. From between two half burnt letters, a small, messy letter breaks free and flutters to the floor. You pick it up to examine it.
The letter had been folded so many times that the creases were tearing. The paper was old and aging, but untouched by the fire. It was a miracle it hadn’t caught aflame. Your name was written on the front of it so lovingly. This one was an old one. He only wrote your name on it for the first few he ever sent.
You open it up carefully, mindful of its delicate position and scared that what it said would cause you more grief.
‘Dear Y/n,
Forever with you sounds great doesn’t it?
James’
You recall the memory of this one vividly. This letter was the first one he had ever sent to you. Back when you were young, dumb and drunk on love. He’d magicked it onto your desk in class as an attempt to embarrass you. It had worked. But not without him getting in trouble for exchanging notes.
You flick through more of the letters, reading every one and thinking of how these lightfelt words could have turned into this. Before your eyes, the simple declarations of love slowly changed into letters about the war. Written accounts on new deaths and uproars that were happening around the country were exchanged. Forgotten was the sweet nothings, they were replaced with war and fear. With each letter you picked up, you noticed that the dates recorded on each of them became few and far between. Until there were no more. Then this whole mess started.
You sink onto the couch reading that first letter again and again. “What I would give to turn back time” you say to no one in particular. You smile softly, with more tears rolling down your cheeks. You bury your face into the blackened letters, sobbing loudly.
James stood against the door on the other side listening to your sobs. He wanted to walk away and forget about it all but he couldn’t. He couldn’t. So he stood there, metres away from you but feeling like it was worlds of distance.
Regret crept its way in, seizing his body and rendering it immovable. Tears slid down his cheeks, despair filling him up as he half-listened to you inside and thought up half a dozen scenarios where this whole thing could’ve ended differently.
‘We brought this upon ourselves’ he thinks, hastily wiping away the tears from the corner of his eyes. ‘If only we hadn’t used letters as an excuse to vent out problems we should have addressed to one another.’
The half-burnt letters. Right. In truth, he wasn’t sure why he threw them in the fire. Maybe it was because he had been in a fit of anger, but he couldn’t help feeling like it was for a deeper meaning. Maybe he was sick of Y/n hanging dearly onto the past or the thought of something he had believed so deeply in ending up not working out how he wanted it to go.
This war had ruined everything. Love, childhood, life. But you can’t blame all your mistakes on something bigger and brighter that easily hides the part you had in it.
He finally remembered the small crumpled piece of paper stuffed into his pocket. He dejectedly drew it out and opened it up. All the rest of the letters might be burning away, but he had made sure to keep this one. The one that mattered the most to him out of every letter they had sent back and forth.
‘Dear James,
I miss you. I’m counting down the days until summer is over and we go back to Hogwarts. I wish you were here to help me pull pranks on my brother; you were always the best at that. It’s boring here without you. It would be more bearable if you were here, but you’re not, so I just read and re-read your letters over and over. That way, it feels almost as if you’re with me, holding me while I attempt to make it through the summer. My heart gets so sore just sitting here day in and day out, trying to cope with your lack of presence. My parents are getting tired of me sending you owls every day. They think I’m too attached to you. I think that’s a load of nonsense. You’re my boyfriend, and the love of my life, my 'forever and always’; How can I not be attached to you?
I have to end the letter here, mum needs me. I love you Jamie.
Forever yours, (y/n)’
His fingers trace your name, tears staining the paper. He tightens his fist, the letter scrunching in his hand. Everything in his life that hadn’t gone to shit in so little time.
He pushes himself off the door in one last attempt to leave. It takes everything he has not to turn around but he must keep going. He broke things off. It wouldn’t turn out well if he just went back on everything that happened. So he continued walking. Maybe this time everything would turn out alright.
Around the same time James finally left, you stopped crying. What was the point anymore? It was done. Everything has ended. Crying won’t change the past. You tidy up the scattered letters into a singular neat pile. What should you do with them? Keep them? That sounds ideal.
You walk towards your room, passing by the fire. The smoke still smells like ink. With the smell in mind, you make a split second decision. Without thought, you toss the rest of the letters into the fire. Except one. That one is held tightly in your hand, never to be forgotten again. The smell of ink doubles and starts to choke you. The paper curls and turns into ash in a weirdly satisfying away. You watch for a few more moments before turning away.
You felt no remorse. What was the point of keeping them? They were half burnt already. Might as well finish the job.
submission for @darlingdelacour’s “12 Days of Angst”
“As much as he lectures James and Sirius to be careful, he can’t take care of himself!” The caption at the bottom of the picture read.
The red light from his alarm clock told him that it was 3:23 am but Remus couldn’t sleep. It had been a week since you had left this cruel world, but all he could think about was you. He should’ve pressured you more not to go on that search mission for the remaining Death Eaters, then maybe you would be here, maybe none of this had happened. If only fate wasn’t cruel and had let Remus have one good thing in his life.
Earlier that night while cleaning out his closet, he had found a box of polaroids from his time in Hogwarts. Making a decision that he would most definitely regret in the next few hours, he took it into his lounge and started looking through it. Hence why he was crying while sitting cross-legged on the floor shuffling through random photos in the falsely happy glow of his Christmas tree.
He stuck his hand in once more and looked at the polaroid with the caption. This particular photo didn’t look too old, but it was slightly crumpled from spending years locked away.
He could tell straight away that was taken in 5th year when Remus had broken his arm trying to execute an elaborate prank. Y/n had stolen his camera and snapped this when he was in the middle of lecturing James and Sirius for making him do the most difficult part. She had also managed to get one of him in the middle of the prank in the process of breaking his arm. But that's beside the point.
He pulled out random photos, taking quick glances before casting them aside. He loved all them, but he was looking for those that held strong memories.
Looking through, he realised most of the photos in this box had been taken by him so he wasn’t in a lot of them. Not that he minded, he preferred to see his once happy friends rather than himself.
His friends. Jeez, he missed them. Four were dead, killed by their best friend who was now imprisoned. Remus felt like an empty shell, trying to fill himself up with old memories that don’t even feel like his own anymore. He shook his head. Continuing that train of thought only led to disaster. But it was undeniably inevitable. He knew he would think about it again, but he put it off for now.
All of the photos were snapped in the heat of the moment causing quite a few of them to be blurred, shaken up from laughter. Moments with his friends were so crazy to look back on. For young boys drunk on superiority and power. Drunk on the belief that they could change the world, that it will all work out in the end. But it wouldn’t, it couldn’t. As they found out all too soon.
This was making him sadder and sadder, piercing his heart. But he couldn’t stop now, not when he was committed to remembering his family somehow. So he reached into the box and pulled out even more random photos.
There was a picture of them in the snow, all you could see of Peter was legs as James stood over him acting like he had just found a new country. Another of them sneaking out to Hogsmeade, Remus and Y/n wrapped up together in a thick cloak as they blushed furiously. One of the very many photos of James trying and failing to woo Lily. The next was of James getting used as a Christmas tree (a very grumpy one) and that random one of Sirius running around the common room with his hair on fire, screaming the lyrics of “God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs.” That was a weird day.
The photos he saw gave Remus so much life, having him in tears of laughter and longing as he relived each memory he picked up from that box.
Before he knew it, only two Polaroids were left in the box, facedown. He gingerly picked up one and flipped it over, shaking his head at the photo. He remembered this one a bit too well. It was the day James and Sirius decided to steal his camera and follow Remus and Y/n around the castle while stifling giggles from under the invisibility cloak.
Coincidentally, it was also the day Remus finally gathered the courage to kiss Y/n. It was just a quick kiss, Remus literally leaned over while you were rattling on about something and press his lips to yours, but it was long enough for the boys to take this opportunity to snap a shot. All the two of you could hear was the distinctive “CLICK” of the camera and the screams coming from the boys as they ripped off the cloak and whipped it around their heads, acting like total morons.
He clutched this one to his chest as he picked up the last photo. When he turned it around, he gasped. This photo must have been taken by one of Lily’s friends back in seventh year.
It was one the few moving photos that Remus had in his possession.
All of them were there, side by side without a care in the world. Just continuous joy.
Sirius was on the far left, playfully putting Peter in a headlock while roaring with laughter. Peter was shouting and trying to get Sirius’ arm off him but you could detect the flicker of loving exasperation each time he failed to move it. On the right, Remus had one arm slung over Y/n’s shoulders, gazing over James and Lily’s heads wearing a small smile with a look of “how the hell am I friends with idiots like these?” on his face. Y/n was doubled over holding her stomach, her face alight with contagious happiness, absolutely dying from laughter. In the middle were James and Lily. James being the romantic cheese he was, was kissing Lily on the temple and whispering sweet nothings into her ear as she smiled wearily rolling her eyes at the state of her friends.
The words written on the bottom of the photo read “The Marauders will be together always. Until the very end.”
Back in his lounge, Remus traced the photo, smiling at it softly. Dear god he missed you. He missed all of his friends. He missed Hogwarts. He missed how simple life seemed back then. I mean sure, it wasn’t perfect but it was his. He was in control of everything that happened around him. He was in the centre of it all. Ruling from his throne, as his best friends stood next to him seated on their own glittering seats. The picture's caption was engraved on their crowns, wild grins on everyone’s faces. Everything going exactly how they wanted it to.
But now those thrones were rubble. Life had decided to flip around and choke him. “Look here” it seemed to say, taunting him. “You thought you were in control?” And finally, after 7 years of fighting for a future he wasn’t meant to have, he succumbed to the harsh reality of fate. He gave up. Breaking one of the Marauders' most sacred rules “Never give up”. But then again, they all did. “Stick together no matter what.” Remus chuckled to himself. Look at them now, spread out between worlds, with no chance of reaching each other.
And finally “Marauders don’t die” He still remembered that day. James had told them this after pulling off one of their best and most dangerous pranks yet. James was ecstatic with joy even though he was wrapped up in bandages and confined to a hospital bed. His eyes were glittering as he bounced up and down on his bed, giving everyone a heart attack. “Listen to me boys” He had said, voice full of overwhelming confidence and life. He pulled the other marauders close to him, looking at each fully in turn. “Marauders don’t die. Not when fate tells us to at least. We die when we want.”
‘How hypocritical’ Remus thought. ‘To think, you had made up that rule. But where were you now James? Dead. Gone. Forever.’
‘Whatever’ He thought, pressing this photo to his chest as well. Maybe they didn’t break all of their sacred rules. He knew, even if more than half of the Marauders were dead, no matter how far apart they were, they would be with him always. As they promised each other years ago.
