It was three thirty in the morning and Lavinia was exhausted. But wide awake. Not that that was as uncommon these days as it probably should have been, but this had been a particularly rough night. And day. And week.
Elias had been out sick for the past three days, which had left the Mungo Bonham ward short staffed. This meant that shifts had been extended to accommodate the absence and Lavinia's weekend had completely disappeared.
She hadn't complained, partly because spending her off days in the silence of the empty house was driving her insane, but also because she remembered perfectly well that for two weeks, Mr. Hayes, Bertie and Elias had all worked extra shifts to accommodate her and her grief. This was the absolute least she could do in return. Even if she was about ready to fall asleep on her feet.
The only good thing, really, was that because the Ministry was in such disarray with the resurgence of muggle attacks and cursed artefacts, the hit wizards didn't seem to be seeing much action and they came into the ward less frequently than they had for the past year or so. This meant that being on call no longer meant a guaranteed shift and Lavinia had actually managed to sleep the night through when it had been her turn to take the admittedly unpleasant duty.
Today, she was not so lucky. She'd offered to cover Elias's shift since she got the sense that both Mr. Hayes and Bertie routinely went to bed far earlier than she did and though the late shift wasn't ideal, she thought it was probably easier for her to handle than it was for them. As she was now a full healer, this was perfectly fine with everyone else so Lavinia had been working until late for the past several days.
Tonight, she hadn't bothered to do more than brush her teeth and change into pajamas before she fell into bed, praying for the good, long rest she knew she needed. But two hours laters she'd been jerked from sleep by the now familiar nightmares and when she'd reached for the warmth that was usually next to her at night, the cold sheets had reminded her that Sirius was away. Again. Which, of course, made it so much harder to shake away the fears of his capture, his pain.
For maybe fifteen minutes she'd tried to get back to sleep until she'd decided it was completely useless and her time would be better spent doing something productive instead of staring at the ceiling and worrying. So now she was sitting on the couch, darning old pairs of socks by hand simply to have something to do.
She was very bad at it. No one had ever bothered to teach Lavinia how to sew because it was, in her mother's opinion, an utterly useless skill. Who needed to sew when you could alter a gown with a wave of your wand? And if something developed a hole, it was obviously too old anyway and she would just buy a new one. All this to say, Lavinia was struggling, to put it nicely.
She didn't mind, really. It required enough focus that between that and the soft music she'd put on, her head was thoroughly occupied, even if her focus was sometimes broken when she accidentally stabbed herself with the needle.
This had just happened on the third stitch in a row and Lavinia was in the process of swearing at the various inanimate objects involved when the door opened. Her head snapped up, the sewing needle gripped in her hand like a weapon. But it was just Remus, looking thoroughly worn out, but at least in one piece.
Lavinia released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and put down the sock and stuck the needle back in the little muggle sewing kit Miriam had given her for her birthday. Lavinia was honestly not sure why Miriam had thought it was a good present and the only explanation she'd gotten was "you need hobbies". Which Lavinia hadn't really been able to argue with. And even if it annoyed her more often than not, it was still something to do when the nights started stretching too long.
"Welcome home," Lavinia greeted her friend, who jumped slightly. She supposed Rems hadn't really expected her to be awake at this hour. She couldn't blame him. She herself hadn't expected to be awake at this hour. But there was nothing for it now so... "Everything go well?" she asked after giving him a moment to adjust to the apparent shock of her presence.
Remus sighed and didn't answer the question. "Why the hell are you up?" he asked, a bit resignedly.
Lavinia frowned and pursed her lips slightly, regarding Remus with a mix of annoyance and relief. She didn't like that he hadn't answered. It made her feel like something must have gone wrong. Realistically, of course, it was probably just because he'd been given orders to keep his business for the Order to himself, but that didn't stop the fears from creeping in. Especially not on a night like this.
"Lost track of time," she lied easily. Too easily, really, but it was simpler than trying to explain how often fears that were a little too close to reality kept her from sleep. Then, unable to help herself, she continued, "I know your missions are need to know, but at least tell me if you're okay."
Remus's shoulders slumped slightly as he hung up his jacket. "I'm fine, Vin," he sighed, sounding like he understood all too well why she had pressed that particular point when she could see for her own eyes that he wasn't harmed. "And I'm sorry I can't tell you what I was doing," he continued, "I just..."
Lavinia shook her head, forcing a smile. "I get it," she replied easily. "Need to know. And I don't." It was the truth. She did get it. And didn't need to know. Even if, when Lavinia was being entirely honest with herself, it did rankle her slightly that she didn't know where her friends went. That if they didn't come home on time, she wouldn't even know where to look. But she also understood why all information was treated as top secret and only shared if Dumbledore gave the say so. It hurt, to be sure, but it made sense. Better safe than sorry, she reminded herself. Again. And again. And again.
"I really am sorry, Vin," Remus repeated, stifling a yawn and coming properly into the living room. He paused a little ways away and frowned at her, no doubt taking in the rumpled pajamas, the hair that had already started escaping her nightly bun and the small pile of socks on the coffee table.
"Why are you really up, Vin?" he pressed and there was something flat and tired in his voice that struck a painful chord in Lavinia's heart..
She sighed and debated whether or not to answer honestly. She didn't want him to worry any more than he already did. Both he and Sirius wasted too much energy on concern for her simply because they knew her history, knew that sometimes, when her pain mounted and tipped some invisible scale, she thought about the potions knife in her closet, even if she hadn't touched it in nearly a year. Knew that she, of all people, walked a very careful line. And she didn't know how to explain that this fear, this pain, wouldn't drive her to that. Didn't know how to convince him that these sleepless nights were not like the ones she'd had years ago. Didn't know how to make him believe her when she told him that there was no need to worry, no need to stress over her.
So she settled on lying, because it was easier and safer. But before she even opened her mouth, as if on cue, the music seemed to answer for her.
When every man is torn apart with nightmares and with dreams.
Lupin glanced at the speakers, then at her and raised his eyebrows. In response, Lavinia, scowling, turned and stuck out her tongue at the turntable. "Not helping, Linn," she snapped at it.
Remus snorted. "Linn?" he asked, a bit bemusedly.
"It's the brand," Lavinia explained, waving a dismissive hand. "It's what I've named him." Which was true. She'd sent plenty of nights and even days with Linn as her only company and at some point, with the amount of times she'd told him to shut up or hurry up or for Merlin's sake don't play that song, it had seemed only proper to give him a proper name.
"You've named our record player," Remus clarified, a bit drily. "Why am I surprised?"
Lavinia frowned at him, even as a smile tugged at her lips. "Okay, I resent that," she informed him frankly. "And yes, I've named him. Though Linn isn't a very good name. It doesn't suit him." Also true. 'Linn' felt like too gentle a name for the record player, but it had stuck and, besides, she couldn't be bothered to come up with a new one.
Remus opened his mouth as though to answer, then closed it, opened it again, and sighed. "What?" he asked finally, looking at her in amused confusion and mild worry.
Lavinia smiled and shrugged a bit helplessly. "He's got an attitude," she explained "He won't play any of our disco music and sometimes he just stops when a song comes on that's a little too disco-y."
"He won't -" Remus broke off and shook his head. "Should I be worried about your sanity right now?"
Lavinia rolled her eyes. "No," she snorted. "I think it's the magic. It's one of the problems with wizards using muggle technology. It tends to start getting... sentient. Actually," she added, sniffing slightly, "It's probably my fault. I keep using charms on it to start and stop the music."
It was, actually, a rather fascinating subject in Lavinia's opinion. Magic and muggle technology, especially anything that involved electricity, simply didn't mix well. Most muggle contraptions held up reasonably well, at least for a little while, but eventually they started to break down, and as was typical of magic that went wrong, sentience was one of the first signs. Apparently it only got worse if the item in question was exposed to more and more magic and though it was probably not the safest thing in the world, Lavinia couldn't deny that she was intrigued by what might happen with Linn in the coming months and perhaps years. Perhaps she could teach him how to jump the needle* himself. That would be useful.
Right now, however, Remus just snorted and rolled his eyes. "Well at least we know you have a friend here when Sirius and I are away," he joked, shaking his head slightly.
Lavinia laughed outright at that and Remus grinned. For a moment, it was just like old times, when they laughed and joked easily. Before the world fell apart.
But then the moment, just like those old times, ended and Remus's grin fell. "So," he started, his face etched once more in lines of worry. "Nightmares again?"
Lavinia's own smile dropped off her face and she sighed, looking away. "Yeah," she admitted, nodding. And then, not knowing why she said it because she knew it would make his stress more than he should, she added, "Tonight was worse than usual."
Remus's shoulders seemed to drop even further and she could hear him take a deep breath before she looked back at him. "Do you need to talk about it?" he asked.
Lavinia shrugged and forced a smile. "What's to talk about?" she asked, shaking her head and forcing a lightness into her tone that she didn't feel. "It's old news. And we both know you and Sirius both get them too."
Remus nodded, but he didn't look particularly convinced. "That doesn't mean they're not worth talking about," he pointed out gently.
Lavinia watched him for a long moment, thinking. He was right, of course, as Remus often was. And she'd lost count of the number of times her friends had told her to open up and stop bottling everything away like she was so prone to doing.
So she sighed and nodded vaguely. "Trade you," she offered.
Remus sniffed and smiled a little, nodding as well and coming over to the couch. Lavinia sat down a few seconds later, Remus was sitting a little ways away.
"You first," Lavinia suggested, half hoping she could get out of actually sharing her own because now that she was here... she didn't really like the idea of admitting to him the kind of things that kept her up at night.
But Remus raised an eyebrow and gave her a look that said he knew exactly what she was doing and wasn't going to let her off nearly that easily. But even so, he nodded. "Alright," he agreed.
He was silent for a moment before he took a deep breath as though bracing himself, and said, "It's usually the same. And to be honest it's not that new. I'm attacking my friends. In... in my other form. And they won't run because they think they can help me." He shook his head, studying his hands and Lavinia felt her heart twisting and put a hand on his shoulder, half tempted to pull him into a bear hug, as if that could make the fears leave him forever.
Remus glanced up at her and took another deep breath before continuing. "These days, it's always on a battlefield. And I'm fighting for the Death Eaters, hurting my friends. And I can't stop myself."
Lavinia swallowed, hard, feeling rather as though her heart had lodged itself in her throat and left something rather aching and hollow in her chest. "I know it's not worth much," she murmured. "But I know you'd never fight for the other side."
Remus gave a forced smile and nodded, inhaling deeply. Lavinia felt her chest seize slightly, hating that her assurances were, at the end of the day, worthless. Hating that there was nothing she could do to make him sleep through the night. To take away this fear. No matter how much she wanted to.
As though reading her mind, Remus reached up and put his hand over hers on his shoulder. Lavinia gave a sad little smile, hoping he understood. And she thought he probably did.
"Your turn," he prompted quietly. Lavinia wrinkled her nose at him, then sighed, her hand dropping back to her side as she looked away, down the hall towards the bedrooms.
"It varies," she admitted. "Some nights, Rowle finally caught me. Some nights the war is over and the Death Eaters won and you're all... all gone." She closed her eyes and shook her head, swallowing the tears that sparked at the mere idea of that. "Usually," she continued with a deep breath that hitched slightly, "Usually, someone's hurt. Or... or dead. And I wasn't there or I wasn't good enough or fast enough. And I didn't save them. I didn't save you."
What Lavinia didn't add, was that on the worst nights, it wasn't just James or Remus or Lily or even Sirius. On bad nights, it was William. And on the worst nights, it was Regulus. And when she woke up it hurt so much more because it wasn't just a nightmare. It was real. And she hadn't saved them. Not from death or from a future they hadn't wanted or desired. And even if she knew she never could have prevented it, she hadn't tried. And that was worse. So much worse.
Remus's hand found hers and he squeezed it for a moment. She looked at him and saw her own grief at not being able to help him mirrored back at her. But he didn't say anything. There was nothing to say, anyway. At the end of the day, people might well die. And she might not be enough to save them. And there was no point making promises neither of them could keep.
So they sat there in silence for a moment, taking some small comfort from knowing that at least they weren't alone in their fears.
At some point, the music finished and true silence fell in the house as the record waited to be flipped. Seeming to take it as a sign, Remus sighed and nodded vaguely.
"We should get to bed," he murmured.
Lavinia nodded, but didn't move.
Remus shook his head and sighed again before standing. "Please try to sleep soon, Vin," he asked her.
Lavinia looked up at him and nodded again, not wanting to say anything because it would just be a lie. He watched her for a moment, not looking at all convinced, and took a deep breath. "Goodnight, Vin," he murmured, reaching out and squeezing her shoulder. Lavinia nodded, and put her hand on top of his.
"Thank you," she whispered, and meant it. Somehow, though she had no idea how, it was nice to be able to tell someone what her nightmares looked like. And it was nice to have someone understand that she didn't need to be comforted about them. She didn't need empty promises that they would never come true. She just needed someone to understand. And to listen. And that was exactly what Remus had done. What Remus always did. She wondered suddenly how she could possibly have forgotten that.
But even if he was good at listening and good at understanding and usually right about things that involved taking care of herself, just as Sirius was, sleep... sleep was not what she wanted or needed right now. Not when she was certain that it would just invite more nightmares, more fears that could only be amplified by the empty sheets besides her. So after Remus had disappeared, Lavinia walked to the record player and flipped the vinyl, setting the needle carefully down and pressing play.
The soft notes of the next song sounded from the turntable and Lavinia smiled softly as she recognized it. Moonchild. How appropriate. And though the name of it had always reminded her of Remus... Well. The lyrics always felt more like they might be for her and all the other people who were drifting and waiting and searching for some imaginary thing that came at the end of the night. At the end of the war.
Either way it was a calming song and though Lavinia had no idea when it happened, sometime after she sat back down on the couch to listen, she fell asleep, her dreams full of the moon and the stars and blissfully devoid of her usual nightmares.
*Okay, I have no idea how many of y'all know how record players work so we're going to err on the side of caution and explain this. Sort of. What you need to know (in very much layman's terms bc I don't have any idea what the technical stuff is) is that a record player has a needle, which runs along grooves in the record and reads the music from it. So to skip a song, you have to pick up the needle and move it inward towards the center of the record. It's almost impossible to do this accurately (from personal experience) and usually you skip either too much or too little, but if you really hate a song on an album, it's better than nothing. So if an accidentally magic record player could do it for you, that would be fantastic. Also important to note is that all old records had an A and B side and you did have to literally flip the record over and re-set the needle to start the other side. Maybe that was totally unnecessary, but if you didn't know, now you do, and if you did, then I probably just bored you to death while making you slightly annoyed that I assume you don't know how a record player works. I promise I'm not trying to be condescending, I just have no idea who might or might not know and I'm covering all the bases, lol.
A/N: Okay, so, first of all, the lyrics quoted in this are from a song called "Epitaph" by King Crimson on the album In the Court of the Crimson King (released 1969). They're really into crimson kings, apparently. The last song on the album is called "The Court of the Crimson King" so, like, really into crimson kings. The other song mentioned is called "Moonchild" as it says. I highly recommend both songs and actually the whole album's pretty good. Though, fair warning, Moonchild has like 2 minutes of interesting and then about 10 of weird, but rather soothing space-y noises, so, you know, you've been warned.
Ngl, I really enjoyed incorporating music into this chapter because I really love music and I was raised on classic rock of the 60s, 70s and 80s and vinyl is honestly the best way to listen to music bc it's not a compressed audio file, but I digress. I don't want to do it too often, bc tbh, I think that would kind of distract from the main story, but I think doing it occasionally is fun. Idk, honestly, lmk what you think, I guess and I may or may not listen to you lol.
Anyway, as usual, I hope y'all enjoyed and I'll be back again tomorrow!