Muse in Secret

Chapter Seven

In comparison London felt like an off colored dream. As soon as he disembarked the train, he had to fake his excitement, scooping Lily up into his arms and spinning her around as though his heart did not belong in a flat in France, to a man whom he had confessed his love to and then left sleeping, unable to wake him, because he knew he would not be able to say no when he asked to join him once more.

The house at least was far better off than he could have hoped. The damage could not even be seen from the outside, and it had been well contained by their cook who's fast action had probably saved the entire house. Still, it was work that needed to be overseen, and what kind of husband would he be if he did not stay to surprise the work and sign off on it? Allowing his wife to do such things would have been frowned upon at best.

"How is Sirius' ward?" Lily asked when they were safely in their carriage.

James looked at the floor. "It's not expected that he will last out the week."

"Oh James. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't- please, go back, I can handle this."

"I know you can." He put on his best fake smile. "But it is my duty. I have said my goodbyes, and I will return when the house is settled and you are once again safely in it."

"Do you think he'll have a funeral?"

"I'm not sure." James said, his brow furrowing. He hadn't thought if Remus was the the type to have a funeral, but he supposed that they would. It would most likely be a private affair, something just for the Brothers, and perhaps if they had any regular patrons of their odd little shop. James assumed he would be invited as well if there was such an affair, but he also didn't wish to pry. This time was for Sirius to say goodbye, and nothing else, he hardly needed James writing him only to remind him that Remus' time was limited. Granted, knowing Sirius, he would fight up until the very moment where Remus' soul departed his body. It would break him, and it would be terrible, but James had vowed Remus that he would help him through it the best he could.

"I know I didn't know him, but I'd like to go, pay my respects if possible." Lily said.

"I don't know if that would be the best idea. They're very private people."

"Just to be polite." She pushed. "I have met Sirius after all."

James gave her a half smile. "Perhaps. If he passes when I am here, I am sure they will write me to tell me of the news, and we can decide then, alright?"

"Alright." She agreed.

The repairs came together quickly and thankfully with Lily staying at Devonshire house he did not have to worry about spending nights with her. Instead he stayed awake in their house, penning letters he never intended to send to Regulus, and hiding them under the floorboard with his other writing. He worked on several short stories, most of them revolving around the personal lives of Prongs and Corleonis as they grew closer, and in turn, the stories more risqué in nature. It was the only thing he wanted to write, the only story he felt worth writing, even if it filled him with an immeasurable guilt. What he wouldn't do to have Regulus here with him, let the prying eyes and rumors be damned. Certainly rumors would be hardly enough to make an accusation on, and once he was safely back in France, all would be well.

However, it wasn't until a week and a day after his return home that the letter he had been dreading arrived. It was short and to the point, addressed informally to J Potter:

Remus didn't make it through the night.

RAB

James felt his breath hitch. Certainly he would have known, would have felt his friend depart the world? It was something always talked about, something that James had often used as a device in his own writing but not something he had ever experienced first hand.