It All Fell Down | A Marauder's Story

The End: Remus Lupin

"I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you." - Lord Huron, The Night We Met     

     Remus Lupin sat on his kitchen floor with his back against the wall and a bottle of fire whiskey clutched in his hands. He hadn't changed his clothes in two days, and a small hole was beginning to form on the heal of his left sock.

     His small house looked oddly untouched; which, in part, was due to the fact that Remus had refused to remove himself from the floor other than to use the restroom or to get another drink. He sat there all day, as of the past forty-eight hours, and drank and smoked and stared at the far wall wondering how in the hell he got here.

      In the span of ninety-eight days, nine hours, and roughly eight minutes, every friend that he had ever known and loved had been ripped from his life. He, who had craved death from the ripe age of four, was the only one left behind; it sounded like the punchline to a bad joke.

      Of course, he reminded himself with his drunken thoughts, there is another of the seven left. But, the thought of Sirius Black was enough to make him punch a hole in the wall, and he didn't think the old house could take it, so he averted his thoughts elsewhere.

     He looked at the old wooden box on his kitchen table instead; it was Charlie's. She had gotten it the day after Harry had been born. "This kid has been born into a crazy ass world," Charlie had said. "Who knows what will have happened by the time he is older." She had had no idea just the kind of rotten hand Harry Potter would be handed. She had filled the box with pictures and old notes that she had found and then forced everyone to hand over some good memories to put into the vials she had prepared. 

     Remus' heart ached. He and the other three boys had given Charlie a hard time about it, teasing her, but after she was found dead, they had spent many spare minutes filling the empty vials with so many good memories a faint, blue glow could be seen through the gap between the box and its lid. After Charlie died, James and Lily tucked the box away in their house for Harry to have when he was older; Remus had collected it from the ruins after they passed. 

     I guess it's my job to get it to Harry now, Remus thought to himself bitterly as he took another swig of the alcohol. 

     Thinking back, Marlene's death had rocked him pretty hard. He still had nightmares of that damned night, hearing that animal like scream, and arriving into the room– a wailing Charlie with a lifeless Marlene in her arms. The image was seared into his brain and haunted many of his dreams.

      Charlie's death had hit him harder. He assumed it was like when someone was attacked by a shark– when you don't see it coming, it tends to hurts less. Adrenaline shoots through the body so quickly, the brain doesn't have time to figure out that you're in pain. When Marlene died, Remus fell into some type of shock, running on autopilot. When Charlie– his Charlie– died a couple of months later, it was as if he had been bracing himself for another hit. Charlie was that other hit. 

     He did not resurface. 

     Charlie was supposed to be strong and unbreakable. He had seen her bloodied and beaten and tortured. Not to mention he was there when her family had died, when she broke up with James so her best friend could be with him, when her mom betrayed her, when Jake died, when Marlene died. Charlotte Riggs was stronger than anyone he knew. She wasn't supposed to die; not without him at least.

      Charlie's death left everyone a little shook. They still weren't over the death of Marlene, and it was as if someone swung back around to sucker punch them all. Sirius fell to shambles. The thought now planted a bitter seed in Remus' chest because how could Sirius pretend to be hurt like that, when he was on Voldemort's side?