scars || sirius black

61 - life and death

They buried Euphemia and Fleamont side by side a week later.

Sirius's shoulder shook as Emmy tried to comfort him. His head was bowed with grief, tears dripping on the broken earth beneath their feet. She held him close, whispering words of comfort as he sobbed.

James was frozen, unable to take his eyes away from the coffins as they were lowered into the ground. Tears tracking silently down his face, Lily holding strong by his side though Emmy could see her lower lip trembling.

The wind blew harshly through the trees, the mourners shivering on the unusually cold spring morning as they huddled together. They was a devastatingly small crowd; it simply wasn't safe to have that many people gathered together, especially when half the Order were there. Except one thing was very clear from the dozens of cards that flooded in every day from all over the country, that Euphemia and Fleamont had been loved so very much.

Later that afternoon, the wake was held at the Potters' house. People mulled around, talking quietly. The world felt muted, tender and all to violently visceral.

The house, once so full of love and warmth was hollow now.

Remus sat down heavily next to Emmy as the sun began to set, passing her a hot cup of tea.

"You looked like you needed it," he murmured.

"Thanks."

Emmy was grateful for the company, she had escaped the main room where everyone had been congregating and out onto the staircase, where Remus had found her.

"You doing okay?" she asked him.

He sighed.

"Not really, but for James' sake I will be."

She rested her head on his shoulder.

"Fleamont was the closest I ever got to a father," he whispered, as if he was too afraid to say it aloud. "I barely remember Dad these days."

"Oh, Rem," she replied sadly. "I wish things had been different, he would have been so proud of you."

"I hope so."

"I know so. You two were so similar, always stuck in your books, never one to back. You have a better sense of humour though, think you got that from Fleamont."

Emmy stilled at the feeling of Remus' tears in her hair.

They stayed there for a while, the last dregs of coffee going cold as they reminisced over their memories with the Potters.

The atmosphere was interrupted as Peter walked past hurriedly, pulling a woolly hat over his blond hair as he reached for the door handle.

"Wormtail, there you are," Remus called in confusion.

Peter whirled around, startled.

"Are you going already?"

"Sorry," he said, eyebrows downturned with regret. "I need to get back home. I told Mum I'd make dinner tonight."

Remus paused for a moment.

"Oh, alright. We thought you were staying the evening here, I feel like I've barely seen you."

"No I'm afraid not, we really must catch up some time soon though," he replied apologetically, but something twinged in Emmy's gut as he spoke. There was something up, he seemed tense.

She stood up to give him a hug before he left and he returned it gratefully.

"Are you doing alright, really?" she asked quietly so Remus wouldn't hear.