'And he's the best fuck that ever walked. He's beautiful - rich, in money and everything else; he's a rockstar to boot, trapped in the body of a fighter. And how he fought; at a state of turmoil with himself - somewhere inside his soul that only she...
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'Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land; When you can no more hold me by the hand, Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay. Remember me when no more day by day You tell me of our future that you plann'd: Only remember me; you understand It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while And afterwards remember, do not grieve: For if the darkness and corruption leave A vestige of the thoughts that once I had, Better by far you should forget and smile Than that you should remember and be sad.'
The weather that December was unusually mild — in fact, no different than it had been in May. But it began drizzling the moment the owl from the Ministry arrived one morning early in the month.
"Does it say what it's for?" Hera asked, frowning as she and Sirius inspected the handsome gold medal and green ribbon upon which it hung.
He shook his head, "Not dying when I was supposed to, I guess. "
Hera gave him an annoyed look, "Not funny... " she muttered.
"My father spent his life angling for this award, " Sirius said blankly. "My grandfather got it for lending the Ministry a lot of gold. And I get it for God knows what. "
"Could it be for the Foundation?" Hera suggested.
"I would hardly call it a fully operational success, yet," he shrugged.
With the Ministry still recovering post-war, other areas of legislation were prioritised foremost, meaning Sirius had not yet achieved the provisions for werewolves he had hoped. Without legislation, it was hard to encourage werewolves to come forward with their affliction — even in a private non-Ministry organisation such as the Lupin Lycanthrope Foundation.
He supposed many feared that recording their names could be used in a manner similar to the Muggle-Born Registration Commission.
Sirius attempted to pick Teddy up as the boy anxiously tried to find his footing, using the dining room chairs to lift himself up, but Teddy batted his hand away, waving his tiny fists excitedly.
