Harry,
As the end of October gets closer, I hope you're doing well.
Remember you can always talk to me.
I know you're probably stressed with school work, but would it kill you to write me back?
I love you,
Spencer
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Spencer sat alone on an Italian beach.
The sun set as Andrew slept on his configured beach bed.
The last few weeks had been hard for her, half of the reason being because she knows how much Remus, Sirius, and Harry suffer as Halloween comes closer.
The other half was purely herself.
Remus has been on her mind more often than not.
She hated her brain.
She hated her body.
She hated her life.
Not because it was bad, but because when you hate your brain and your body... it's hard to enjoy the rest.
Her heart hurt as she wondered how long she'd feel this way.
It's been months.
She tried to tell herself it doesn't matter.
She wanted to be free from the thing, the person, the event, the memory.
But the feeling is still there, it's always there, waiting.
Harassing.
For a while, it seemed to be gone.
She thought she was free at last, and then, out of the hidden depths, there it came again.
Dragging her down.
Screaming at her, it matters, it matters, it matters.
She placed her finished cigarette in her now empty cup before laying down- letting the water cover her body.
She stared at the sky, thinking back to something Severus had told her.
When people fall out of love with you, there's nothing you can do to change their mind. They just don't love you anymore.
"Not trying to drown again, are we?" Emily asked.
Spencer sat up, "no" she shook her head.
"How are you?"
"Ok" she shrugged.
"I do hope you're not killing Andy's vibe" she laughed.
"I probably am" she admitted.
"I'm sure he'd love to help, if you asked."
"I have, he is" she smiled. "He's been very kind and supporting."
"I know" she nodded. "Buying an apartment complex is a bit much but, what can I say, I'd probably do the same if I had that amount of money."
She laughed, "yeah, me too."
"Where are we" Emily looked around. "Not Mexico, that's for sure."
"Italy" Spencer answered.
"Ah, makes sense" she nodded.
"Makes sense?"
"I spotted men in 5 inch inseam shorts."
Spencer laughed out loud, Emily followed. "What! I'm being honest!"
"I know, I know" she nodded.
Emily smiled at her sister, "you look healthy."
"Yes, Emily, I've gained weight," she nodded awkwardly, "I'm eating better. Andrew has a house elf that loves cooking- she makes me try her new recipes all the time."
"I love that for you" Emily placed her hand through Spencer's.
She smiled back at her before looking at the water.
"Do you know how he's doing?"
Spencer shook her head, "I don't really want to know."
"Why?"
She shrugged, "it's not my place anymore."
"But you think about him?"
"From time to time" she admitted. "I think I want to start reading my cards."
"Oh... that's nice" she smiled.
"You don't have to pretend you like the idea" she chuckled. "I know the ideals mother put in our head too, you know."
"It's not something I'd do but it's different for you" Emily assured. "Let me know how that goes, it seems that Andrew is waking up."
Spencer turned to look at Andrew as he rubbed his eyes, when she looked back at Emily she was gone.
She stood and walked to his configured beach bed, "morning sunshine" she smiled.
"I should get a beach house" he yawned.
Spencer laughed, "totally, perfect for the winter."
"Ready to go?" he asked.
"Whenever you are" she nodded.
"Come, sit" he pet the empty space beside him.
"I'm wet" she looked down at her body.
"It's ok" he added.
Spencer sat next to him.
"Time passed by, don't you think" he looked out to the water.
She nodded.
"You're sad" he noted.
"Yeah" she nodded.
"Me too" he sighed. "I thought being away from it all would fix it."
"So did I" she agreed. "But I've had fun, have you?"
He nodded.
"What are you thinking about?"
"It's stupid" he shook his head.
"Tell me anyway" she encouraged.
"I miss my parents" he answered. "And i'm angry with them at the same time."
She nodded.
"I think about how different your parents are than mine. Your parents didn't care, they left you. Mine... I guess they care but aren't there. They give me their money instead of their time- not that I mind it I obviously use it" he looked out.
"Sometimes that's just how things are" she shrugged. "I mean, they could be better but they could also be worse... at least at the end of the day you know they are there" she consoled him.
"Yeah, that's true" he nodded. "They don't hate me" he shrugged.
Spencer laughed, "there's that."
He took a deep breath.
"I'm sure if you called them they'd answer. Why don't you ask them to come for a couple days?"
He shook his head, "I don't think I want that."
"That's okay" she nodded. "You could write them a letter? Tell them how you are?"
He thought about it. "Sounds better" he laughed.
"How are you feeling? In general?" she asked.
He shrugged, "grief comes and goes."
She nodded.
"Some days I don't exist, my bed becomes a casket" he sighed.
"I'll lay down next to you" she reached for his hand.
He smiled.
"I wish I was like you, I wish I knew how to talk and ask for help" she sighed. "I wonder what went wrong."
"At some point in your childhood you asked and no one came" he answered. "I'm sorry I'm late" he squeezed her hand.
"You had to find the perfect outfit," she shrugged, "there's nothing to be sorry about."
"I think I'm ready to go home" he nodded.
"Me too" she agreed.
"Remember our agreement?"
"What agreement?"
"We're hosting a Christmas party- with more friends."
She laughed, "yes yes, we're to get jobs."
"I'm excited."
"Me too," she nodded, "hopefully our co-workers aren't absolutely horrible."
He smiled, reaching over and grabbing her hand once more. Giving it a tight squeeze.
"Home?" he asked.
"I actually just want to bike around."
"I'll see you for dinner then" he nodded.
They packed up their things, Spencer got dressed before they walked to their bikes.
She went the opposite direction he did, the wind blowing Spencer's hair back.
She had no place in mind, she truly just wanted to look around.
Fifteen minutes passed until she found herself in front of it.
In front of a place she hadn't been to in years.
A church.
Her arms became warm, almost heavier.
She stared up at tall building, then a nun appeared beside her.
"It's open, you know" she smiled.
Spencer nodded.
The nun went back into the church.
She took a deep breath before going inside, didn't burn- she joked in her head.
One thing she loved about going the church, really the only thing, was how beautiful it was inside.
Sure the outside was pretty too, but the windows and ceilings were to die for.
Mass was over, the church was empty. Except for the father, nuns, and other Catholics who were talking to God.
She stared at the scattered people around the room as they were on their knees.
Why was she there?
Did she need a confession?
Did she need comfort?
She didn't even believe anymore.
Did she?
"Hello" a man spoke beside her.
"Hi" she greeted.
"I'm father Paul" he offered her a handshake.
"Spencer" she shook his hand.
"Can I help you?"
"Erm- no I-" she shook her head. "I'm not really sure why I'm here" she shrugged.
"Well, confessions are over there" he pointed to the big brown box on the other side of the room. "You're free to look around and I'll be in my office if you need to talk" he smiled. "It's up the steps."
"Thank you" she nodded.
He left, leaving her to look forward at the big cross.
She walked and sat in an empty isle. The knee rest was down, almost mocking her.
She grabbed the Bible in front of her, opening it up.
Matthew 7:12
Do to others whatever you would like them to do to you. This is the essence of all that is taught in the law and the prophets.
What a load of bullshit.
Sorry, she thought as she looked up at the cross.
She sighed, putting the Bible down and staring at Jesus.
Her relationship with the church was... it comes and goes.
She was never really a full believer, it was a place she had to go to every Sunday.
Something she had to study for.
Not for her, for her parents.
For her mother.
For her father.
But then, sometimes, when she needed someone to listen.
Someone to talk to, that's where she turned.
She got on her knees, intertwined her fingers and looked down.
She closed her eyes.
She wasn't saying anything in her head.
Just breathing.
Just thinking.
Remembering all the times she had called out to God.
Asked for help.
Believed.
And no one came.
No one answered.
Her knees metaphorically scratched and bloody.
I think I am scared of you.
You, a powerful man, who does what he desires.
You, a powerful man, that does everything with a purpose.
You, a powerful man, who was supposed give me life but dug my grave at a young age.
I don't know what I did to you.
Would you believe me if I said I was sorry?
She opened her eyes and wiped away her tears.
Fuck, she missed Remus.
Remus would've understood.
Remus would've hugged her and ran his fingers through her hair as she cried.
He would've been there.
Even if he was just pretending.
Even if it was to get laid.
He would've been there.
Sometimes she feels sick when she remembers how she opened up to him.
How much she told him.
She let him see her.
And he didn't want it.
She doesn't want to be the one who mourns for something no one knows about.