Obsidian & Bronze {Fred Weasley}

15. The trial of Sirius Black

You know those situations that you just can't make up, the kinds of things that happen in life that are so inexplicable that they must be true?

Well, when I say that I did intend on returning the letter back to Remus's room the evening before the trial, and instead stumbled across hundreds more, I'm not too sure anyone would believe it was an accident, but it was. What was not an accident, however, was me sitting and reading through every last one of them.

I had slipped out of bed not long after midnight the night before the trail, or the morning of, depending on which way you choose to observe it, and made my way over to Remus's living quarters, silently sneaking through the corridors.

I still didn't have the faintest idea of what I was going to be saying at the trial, but I knew whatever it may be, re-reading that letter for the seven-hundredth time was not going to provide me with the answers I needed, and would only result in another restless and unproductive night.

As I approached the door to Remus's living quarters I was unsure whether to knock gently, or simply let myself in, no noise created. I decided on the latter, noting that I wasn't too sure how far Snape's room was from there and I was particularly eager for him to see me out of bed at quarter past twelve in the morning.

The door released a muted creak as I carefully let myself inside, cautiously closing the door behind me, thankful I had made it across the castle undetected.

Remus was laying still and motionless in his bed, on the opposite end of the room, his peaceful state was so warming to observe, knowing that uninterrupted sleep was not a luxury he often got to endure.

I made my way over to the large burgundy armchair, and attentively, and without sound, climbed into it, quietly getting myself comfortable. The copy of Jane Eyre was exactly as I had left it, resting on the side table, slightly off centre, as though it hadn't been touched by anyone since me, almost on purpose?

I pulled the parchment from the pocket of my jumper reluctantly, not entirely sure if I was ready to give up this small piece of Remus, and Sirius, I had to pretend I didn't know. Nonetheless, I couldn't hang onto it forever, and honestly it was a miracle I made it as long as I did with it in my possession.

Although as I reached over and slipped the letter back between the tattered pages, scattered with the words of Charlotte Brontë, I noticed an unfamiliar looking box just next to Remus's bed.

I had never seen the box before, although it didn't appear new in the slightest, the corners were worn and well loved, and the colour was ashy and fading, as though maybe I hadn't seen it before because that was Remus's intention.

Perhaps this was something he kept hidden and only looked at when he was alone, maybe it was simply a mistake that it had been left on the side. It was perfectly plausible that Remus was looking through this box before he went to sleep and before he knew it, the exhaustion was taking over and he decided to put it away in the morning. An honest mistake on his behalf.

Except this theory didn't seem to stop me, as I found myself silently making my way over to the box to observe it closer, a polite way of stating I was going to look inside even though it was none of my business, and I was careful not to create much noise as I did so, considering I was now standing beside Remus.

I slid myself down the wall and hugged my knees into my chest, placing the box to rest upon them. It wasn't particularly heavy in weight, but something about it leaked sentiment, as though thousands of memories had been attached to this one box.

Carefully placing the lid on the floor beside me, I started rummaging through its contest, and to my surprise I was presented with what must have been at least a hundred small pieces of old parchment, each one of them scribbled with their own individual note.