BLACK MOON ⍋ Remus Lupin

Chapter 123- Alone.

Remus' POV
A week later

"He doesn't want a funeral. I've almost begged him to come to something, anything." James sighed adjusting his glasses.

"I haven't even seen him. He won't open the door. Won't respond to any calls. I left that same day to check on him and nothing, I've heard nothing." I sighed back. Feeling incredibly stressed and tired.

"He stayed with us that night, remember? Though I'm not sure for how long. When we woke up he was gone and...I've only had one conversation with him since. It was short." James revealed.

"I could...break in? Turn into a rat and see if there's a crawl space?" Peter suggested.

Sirius had locked himself away. No contact with anyone. Not a single word from him. All I could fear was that it was the calm before the storm, and yet it didn't feel very calm at all. Waiting to here from him felt like preparing for a tsunami.

I attempted to comfort him the same very day I found out Reg had died. Knocked on his door for two hours to a flat I didn't know was empty. Went home after to make sure Arty was coping as well as she could, only to receive a message that James had rang and that they were watching Sirius. I was able to relax a little and focus on my girl; who was dealing with the news remarkably well.

Arty took two rest days for herself. Breakfast and dinner in bed, with a small venture downstairs for lunch. Puffy pink eyes and knotted hair, that I made sure to brush through on the second night.

She told me brief but detailed stories about Regulus. Memories that had filled her mind and consumed it with the remembrance of him.

On the fourth night, Arty woke up from a long evening nap. Pillowcase creases printed on her face and a sudden burst of concentrated energy.

'A want to light a candle for him.' She told me.

So we did.

We went outside as the sky began to mix shades of deep orange and cool purple and sat down together on bricked pavement. Looking up at the sky before lighting any candle we could find inside the house.

We didn't speak until the flame of one of the candles began to flicker manically. A black smog producing from the wick that desperately needed to be cut. The glass rim being lightly covered with dark soot.

Arty blew out the candle and nodded up at the sky. As if she was having a conversation in her head with him all along. That she had finally been given a sign that it was alright to move on.

The next day she managed to drag herself out of bed before noon. Having breakfast downstairs at our dining table.

'Life can be so cruel. So short.' She said.

'You never asked me to take your last name, like Narcissa asked you to. Perhaps that's a conversation we should be having.' She added.

The thought of marriage seemed tone deaf and I was surprised by the directness of her tone and seriousness that rested on her face. I was surprised that death had brought on the thought of grasping onto life, for her.

The thought of all of our mortality playing heavy on her mind, as if time was running out for me to ask her to be my wife. A moment I wanted to wait and build up to.

I never asked for Artemis' hand for marriage when Narcissa asked me to. When she asked me to change her last name and take her away somewhere secret.

I never wanted to feel like marriage was a demand. Like it was a forced choice. It meant more than just a shared surname to me. I don't want to get married purely because of a situation that calls for it and I didn't and don't think Artemis deserves an introduction to such devotion beginning that way; where it's forced, no matter if love exists there.