Hermione, Hermione. You have nothing to be sorry about. It's not your fault. [He leans against her, and finds tears coming to his eyes despite himself. She's right about that, of course. He has loved, and loved so whole-heartedly that he nearly lost himself as well when he lost all of them. It was difficult, not to give up. There were times he came so close. And now...
He turns his face against her shoulder.] Padfoot looks just like him. Do you know that? The whole first month he was here, I kept thinking... [He trails off for a moment, shaking his head, before he says:] But it wasn't. It was just a dog. And he's lovely, I couldn't have asked for better, but I... [He misses him, with everything that he has.]
That doesn't mean I'm not sorry. It's not fair that you've had to suffer like this, it's - it's not fair that any of this happened to you. [ None of this is fair, none of it is right. War is an ugly, disgusting thing, the people they've lost crowding in her heart and making her own breathing hitch with a sad, sombre noise. She's lucky, she thinks, that she's been able to see Remus come back to her, that she can have him at her side as a friend and teacher all over again. He isn't so lucky; all the people that he had lost are dead and gone and there is nothing that she can do to bring them back. Not even here, with all the power she has.
Her fingers trail through his hair gently, stroking, comforting even as she deliberately bites back her own tears. ] That's what I thought when I first saw him too. He looks just the same. [ Leaning back, she lifts her hands to touch his cheeks, tender and gentle. ] It's not the same. Not being around them isn't the same. It's - it's the worst feeling in the world. Knowing that there's nothing you can do to make any of it better, to - to fix things.
[ And she knows she would. Hermione would exhange her life for Sirius', for Remus', for Harry and Ron and Ginny and everyone she has ever known and loved if she thought it would bring them back. When she leans forward, her forehead touches his. ]
[He will perhaps never see his friends again, no, and if he does, he'll be older than them now. Older than Lily and James, at least. And Sirius. Oh, Sirius. He's still alive, back home, but what kind of a life does he have, on the run from the Ministry of Magic, one of the most wanted men in all of the wizarding world, falsely accused and with no hope of proving his innocence save for catching Peter again, a task easier said than done. He was a Marauder after all - he might have needed the most help in school out of all of them, but there were reasons that they'd kept Pete around, all those years, and they certainly wouldn't have suffered his company if he was an idiot.
Remus lets Hermione stroke her hands through his hair, he lets her put her hands on his face and shuts his eyes as her forehead touches his. He has to remind himself that she is only ten, thirteen years younger than him these days, and considering their ages, that's not that much of a difference at all. He is young still, even if he feels so old.]
I'm not sure you really want that. To hear what I have to say. Not really. I wouldn't want to trouble you any more than I already have...
[ Something prickles inside of her and she breathes out a sharp noise as she turns and looks at Remus, swallowing back her own emotions as she gazes at him. She feels sick with the weight of her own emotions and she pauses, watching him, her eyes dancing over his face before she shakes her head, her lips pursed, her expression tight as she pushes her own feelings away. For now she has to be strong for him - and that she can do. She's learned how to be strong, to keep herself steady, even in the darkest of times. ]
Of course I want to hear what you have to say. You're my friend, Remus, and I care about you. I always have and I always will. Don't you dare ever, ever think that I would... [ The music almost screams and she shakes her head, lifting her hands to touch his shoulders, forcing his attention onto her before she leans back, unsure even as she wants to comfort him and offer him some kind of confidence. ]
I want to be here for you. I want you to be able to trust me. So, please. Please let me be as good to you as you've been to me.
[Remus reaches up to take her hand in his own, squeezing her fingers tight, as if anchoring himself to the here and now. The harp music in his head swells, and he feels as if he might be swept away with it, if not for her hand on his shoulder, her steady gaze, and her calming presence. She's asking him to trust her. And she's already proven herself a thousand times over to him, trusting him, making his potions for him, giving him a place to stay during the full moon, being there to care for him afterwards. It's the least that he can do for her.
So he gives in. And gives her what she's asking for. The answer to what's troubling him, even if he hardly believes that she's prepared to hear it.] I loved him, Hermione. Sirius. We were... [He trails off, shaking his head at her, although he keeps her gaze and hopes that she understands what it is that he hasn't said. Hoping that she will understand in general. What is this harp music doing to him...]
[ Her eyes flicker over his face as she takes him in, waiting to see if he will step forward and breach the gap to give her all of his trust. Hermione knows it can't be easy for him, considering, that she is a girl that was once his student and has grown so much since then, but she wants to believe they're friends. She wants to think that they're crossing the boundary between teacher and student and becoming closer than that, a family of sorts in this world, and it warms her to think that it might be the case.
Her hand squeezes his and when he speaks... She can feel her stomach drop, her hands shaking as it settles down, the knowledge of what happened settling around her shoulders as she tries to understand. Remus loved Sirius and she knows what he means, knows the words he can't quiet say, and she can feel, in her chest, the way her own heart breaks. It aches, the knowledge of what is in their future, what is to come, that Remus has Tonks but loses Sirius, that he loses a family as quickly as he gains one.
Moving without thinking, Hermione wraps herself around Remus again, drawing him close, squeezing him, her eyes squeezing shut to fightback her tears. ]
[Remus shuts his eyes himself, leaning against Hermione and wrapping his arms loosely around her in return as she embraces him. He nods, the smallest of movements, but it's a nod nonetheless, in response to her words.]
I know he did. He. [He lets out something of a laugh, and the sound is pained and choked, as it forces its way up his throat.] If there's one thing I never doubted about Sirius Black, it was his capacity to love. [Sometimes it drove him up the wall. Sometimes it made him doubt himself - how could he possibly think to match the unquestioning affection that the other man offered him? Like the giant dog that he was, unassuming.]
If only... If only I hadn't kept so many secrets, Hermione. If only I had trusted him as much as he had trusted me... [It was why Lily and James had died, after all. Because he had lost Sirius's trust. And in turn, he had lost everything.]
[ She tightens her grip around him, breathing out sharply before she lets her eyes close tighter. It's hard, she knows, accepting death and pain, and all she can do is try to wrap herself around her friend and soothe his hurts with everything that she has inside of her. Hermione wants Remus to be happy, but right now all they can feel is shared pain and regret. ]
I know. I remember that. I remember how happy he was when he was home with us all, when he had us around - especially you. He missed you so much, Remus. [ She lifts her hand and threads her fingers through his hair, gentle brushes against his scalp, trying to soothe him and brush away his pain. When she leans back, she's frowning, her cheeks wet from her tears. ]
Remus, none of you could have known. Hindsight is the worst kind of pain, I know that. You couldn't have predicted what was going to happen - none of you could have. [ Her hand lifts, touching his cheek, slow and gentle and familiar. ] You didn't know.
[He shakes his head slightly, leaning into the touch of her hand. He didn't know, no. They couldn't have, she says. People have said before. But he still has to wonder whether that is the truth or not. They had always taken Peter for granted. And look at where it had got them.
It's when she leans back and he sees her tears that he knows that he's taken this too far. Burdened her too much.] Oh, Hermione. Don't cry. Not for me, not for us. [He reaches up to brush a tear from her own face.] It isn't your fault that our time has past. I'm sorry for unloading this much on you. It was wrong of me to do so...
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He turns his face against her shoulder.] Padfoot looks just like him. Do you know that? The whole first month he was here, I kept thinking... [He trails off for a moment, shaking his head, before he says:] But it wasn't. It was just a dog. And he's lovely, I couldn't have asked for better, but I... [He misses him, with everything that he has.]
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Her fingers trail through his hair gently, stroking, comforting even as she deliberately bites back her own tears. ] That's what I thought when I first saw him too. He looks just the same. [ Leaning back, she lifts her hands to touch his cheeks, tender and gentle. ] It's not the same. Not being around them isn't the same. It's - it's the worst feeling in the world. Knowing that there's nothing you can do to make any of it better, to - to fix things.
[ And she knows she would. Hermione would exhange her life for Sirius', for Remus', for Harry and Ron and Ginny and everyone she has ever known and loved if she thought it would bring them back. When she leans forward, her forehead touches his. ]
I'm here. Talk to me, Remus, let me help you.
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Remus lets Hermione stroke her hands through his hair, he lets her put her hands on his face and shuts his eyes as her forehead touches his. He has to remind himself that she is only ten, thirteen years younger than him these days, and considering their ages, that's not that much of a difference at all. He is young still, even if he feels so old.]
I'm not sure you really want that. To hear what I have to say. Not really. I wouldn't want to trouble you any more than I already have...
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Of course I want to hear what you have to say. You're my friend, Remus, and I care about you. I always have and I always will. Don't you dare ever, ever think that I would... [ The music almost screams and she shakes her head, lifting her hands to touch his shoulders, forcing his attention onto her before she leans back, unsure even as she wants to comfort him and offer him some kind of confidence. ]
I want to be here for you. I want you to be able to trust me. So, please. Please let me be as good to you as you've been to me.
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So he gives in. And gives her what she's asking for. The answer to what's troubling him, even if he hardly believes that she's prepared to hear it.] I loved him, Hermione. Sirius. We were... [He trails off, shaking his head at her, although he keeps her gaze and hopes that she understands what it is that he hasn't said. Hoping that she will understand in general. What is this harp music doing to him...]
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Her hand squeezes his and when he speaks... She can feel her stomach drop, her hands shaking as it settles down, the knowledge of what happened settling around her shoulders as she tries to understand. Remus loved Sirius and she knows what he means, knows the words he can't quiet say, and she can feel, in her chest, the way her own heart breaks. It aches, the knowledge of what is in their future, what is to come, that Remus has Tonks but loses Sirius, that he loses a family as quickly as he gains one.
Moving without thinking, Hermione wraps herself around Remus again, drawing him close, squeezing him, her eyes squeezing shut to fightback her tears. ]
He loved you too.
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I know he did. He. [He lets out something of a laugh, and the sound is pained and choked, as it forces its way up his throat.] If there's one thing I never doubted about Sirius Black, it was his capacity to love. [Sometimes it drove him up the wall. Sometimes it made him doubt himself - how could he possibly think to match the unquestioning affection that the other man offered him? Like the giant dog that he was, unassuming.]
If only... If only I hadn't kept so many secrets, Hermione. If only I had trusted him as much as he had trusted me... [It was why Lily and James had died, after all. Because he had lost Sirius's trust. And in turn, he had lost everything.]
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I know. I remember that. I remember how happy he was when he was home with us all, when he had us around - especially you. He missed you so much, Remus. [ She lifts her hand and threads her fingers through his hair, gentle brushes against his scalp, trying to soothe him and brush away his pain. When she leans back, she's frowning, her cheeks wet from her tears. ]
Remus, none of you could have known. Hindsight is the worst kind of pain, I know that. You couldn't have predicted what was going to happen - none of you could have. [ Her hand lifts, touching his cheek, slow and gentle and familiar. ] You didn't know.
YOU KNOW THE DRILL i'm sorry this is late :(
It's when she leans back and he sees her tears that he knows that he's taken this too far. Burdened her too much.] Oh, Hermione. Don't cry. Not for me, not for us. [He reaches up to brush a tear from her own face.] It isn't your fault that our time has past. I'm sorry for unloading this much on you. It was wrong of me to do so...