Predisposition|Remus Lupin

It's funny

Chapter XXXVIII

*Trigger warning- Alcohol misuse*

Tom Rosenthal: It's okay

It's a funny thing loss. No one tells you how to grieve or mourn but they seem to have an opinion to tell you that the way you're grieving is wrong. They seem to think they know what you need better than yourself. They seem to have a claim on your mind you will never be close to understanding, and I'm sick and tired of it. Even as I slump over my desk, its the pitiful eyes and flowers which kept turning up.

It makes me want to retch, or maybe that's the copious amounts of alcohol. It's also funny how I reek of alcohol, but no one says a thing. Grief is practically a pass for anything.

"You're not ready to go?" Tonks stood at my desk, fiddling with her sleeve. This also became humorous, the girl who would put her foot in it was now afraid to be herself around me. Even her hair changed to a lank brown. I wasn't just depressing, I was distraught. Opening my flask of supposed water, I fling it back, the smell stinging my nostrils but not nearly as much as the liquid burns my throat.

"I've got to file away the incident with Barty Junior, and then about what happened in the maze." Wiping my mouth I'm already dying for another drink, Remus smells it on me when I come home, his eyes wander to the flask tucked in my bag but his hands remain firm around the kettle as he pours more tea. Tea which supposedly fixes everything. How is drink supposed to make me feel better. How is drink supposed to bring my baby back?

Tonks seemed to freeze, she never saw Aiden again since that night and I think she was smart enough to put two and two together, but she saved me my dignity and never said anything. And I loved her for it, I didn't need murderer stapled onto my back. The alcoholic sign was already taking up enough room.

"Do you want me to wait?"

"I'm good. Night Tonks." I smile sleepily and watch as she sceptically joins the others, offering a small wave. When silence filters in, I pull open the top drawer and pour a glass of firewhiskey, a lot of my work has had this substance spilt over it the past few weeks but I don't think anyone has the nerve to say anything. It felt far from summer, far from the days where Remus and I would be wandering aimlessly through the field behind our home.

Remus

My sweet Remus, all he wants to do is kiss me better and tell me we'll have another chance. Assure me that everything will be okay, but I didn't want another chance, I wanted this one. I know he never cries in front of me, the first few nights I heard him whimper when he thought I was asleep. All I wanted to do was hold him, I wanted to tell him I was sorry and that everything happens for a reason, but how could I? How could I lie to him.

So we laid silently, the odd sniffle between us and we prayed that we would be brought back together. No such luck. It's strange, you would think death would bring people together, you'd think it would remind them of how lucky they were to love one another and to have something alive and beating between them. But we weren't alive, in fact, it felt like dropping water onto a flame, the sharp sizzling of separation.

"This looks fun." Connor works down the hall in the same department of Arthur, it doesn't stop him settling in front of me and summoning another glass "so, who are we mourning?"

"My miscarriage." I raise the glass sardonically, his face doesn't drop, it doesn't even change, he raises his glass and drinks. "Why aren't you with the others?"

"Not a big fan of people." I scoff as I file away the report of this summer, "I'm also here to talk to you about what happened in the maze. I'm the department's councillor." I snort out laughter and kick back in my chair. "Something funny?"