Mischief Managed

48: I Shall Not Live in Vain

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I was back in London. Remus was meeting me outside his place. I missed him, lots, and I couldn't help but feel happy at the prospect of seeing him after all these years. Well, just two. But it felt like a decade.

And soon I would see my mother again. My stomach dropped at the thought of her, but my heart felt this strange tug when I thought of her face. Despite everything she had done, I ached to see her face and to feel her arms around me once more. As if, somehow, she could still make everything alright.

It was dark, and the streets were only dimly lit by the occasionally weak lamppost- my train from Paris had been delayed for an entire hour, so, here I was, in London way past when I wanted to be. The night air was absolutely freezing, but I was thankful that the streets were clear of snow. A rare feat in England during January.

I wanted to get to Remus's as quickly as possible, so I took an alley detour that I could practically hear him scorning me for. I wasn't worried. I was getting close to Remus's place, anyway, so if anything did happen, he would be close enough to help.

As I turned down the final alley, I kept my eyes on Remus's street, and tried not to think too hard about the dark dumpsters looming on either side of me.

I hated being back in this city. I'd hardly been here an hour, but already I could feel the swarms of my past sticking to me, shoving themselves down my throat. In the darkness, I grimaced.

Of course, beneath all my bitterness, I was horribly sad, too. I was just trying to ignore that part, hoping it would disappear. As if I didn't already know that was a lie.

My head snapped up as I swore I heard a laugh. Bark-like. Was it- no, that was stupid. I swore under my breath and started to walk faster. Almost at the street.

But then I heard the laugh again. This time, it definitely didn't sound like Sirius.

Chills rose up my spine, and my stomach filled with a dark, dark dread as I turned around. A shadow sprung from behind a dumpster, and I reached for my wand in my pocket. My fingers closed around the wood even as I realized that I was too late.

"Hello, wittle baby Bree. You thought you escaped, didn't you?"

No no no no no. This wasn't supposed to happen- I wasn't supposed to die yet- I was supposed to see him one more time why couldn't I just see him one more time.

Don't let me die please don't let me die I'm not-

I heard a shout from behind me, and I think I screamed too, or maybe I didn't- maybe I just fell silently.

There was this flash of brilliant light, and all I could see was the green. Blackness rushed the edges of my vision, but there was a moment, one moment, before everything went black where I could process what was happening.

In that moment, my life should have flashed before my eyes- I should have seen my first violin concert, the Hogwarts castle, my parents' cluttered living room, the view of London from my apartment. I should have seen my father's face, my mother's eyes, James's laugh, or baby Harry's smile. I should have heard my own violin, my mother's piano,  or my father's cello.

Instead, all I saw before I fell was one memory.

Sirius stood in front me. It was his young, gangly sixteen-year-old self, and he was dressed nicely in a suit, which he had somehow managed to pull off without looking exceedingly awkward or extravagantly rich.

He smiling at me, a hint of blush on his cheeks, and his hands were outstretched as he offered me a bouquet of white roses.

"Take the flowers," he insisted. He laughed. Smile lines creased his cheeks, and his eyes were so endless, so passionate, so loving. My heart melted one last time. "I look ridiculous."