*
Remus couldn't decide whether or not this was all a bad dream. Even days later, it still didn't feel real. How could it be? James and Lily and Peter... and Sirius. Sirius had betrayed them. And that was quite possibly the worst part of this whole nightmarish week.
Since they'd all been in hiding for a few months now, it was almost easy to pretend that the others were alive, that he just hadn't had a chance to see them for a little while. That somewhere, they were all holed up, staying safe. Staying alive. And even if it hurt like hell when reality came crashing in, it was possible, at least, to pretend for just a little while. To ease the pain. If only for a moment.
But Sirius... his absence weighed on the entire house, the air thick with it, every meal punctuated by it, every moment of the day reminding them that Sirius was gone. Sirius had lied. Sirius had betrayed them.
Remus hated the thought. Hated that it was true. Hated that he believed it. With difficulty, yes, but at the end of the day.... The evidence lined up. And he didn't have another explanation, however much he wanted one.
He had tried only once to bring it up to Lavinia. It had been on the very day that they'd gotten the news and he'd been half hoping that she could offer some other alternative. That she could explain it all away, but... But she had broken him off with a finality that had hurt to hear, with a deadness in her voice that had killed him. He hadn't bothered to say anything about Sirius since. He was half afraid that the mere sound of the name might break Lavinia. And she did seem so very fragile these days, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.
She walked around the house as though she were in a trance, her face blank and her eyes dull. He knew she hadn't been sleeping. Occasionally he would roll over late at night and see a thin band of light beneath his door and know she was still sitting or reading in the living room. Other times he had woken up in the morning, to find her on the couch, her hair a mess and the clothes she'd worn the previous day now rumpled from a restless night on the couch. Dark circles had begun forming beneath her eyes seemingly from the moment Emmeline had come with such awful news and they were getting worse by the day, though if Lavinia noticed them, she clearly didn't care. Actually, she didn't seem to care about much of anything at all these days.
It was worse, somehow, this cold, dead grief. Worse than if she'd been screaming and sobbing and feeling. But instead, she was simply... existing. Surviving. Seeming like that alone was a battle and not one she was entirely sure she wanted to fight.
He kept remembering how she had looked in those days in their seventh year at Hogwarts, just before Christmas break. Like she was a living ghost. She looked like that now and it scared him near senseless. Every time he glanced at her, something stabbed in his chest because all he could think was that he was losing yet another friend and he didn't know how to stop it.
And that... that was by far the worst part. That he didn't know how to help. She barely spoke to him, barely ate, no matter how hard he tried to convince she needed to. She seemed to be balancing on a knife's edge and Remus didn't know how to get her safely off.
Of course, all too often, helping her was simply too difficult, too much. Too often, getting out of bed took all the energy he had and there was little left to offer her. His own grief kept knocking the air from his lungs, kept trying to drown him beneath its waves and suffocate him with its pressure. They had, after all, been his friends for ten years. Ten years of laughing together, ten years of loving them, ten years of unwavering support. And in one night, it had all fallen apart. In the space of a few hours, the world had decided that ten years was all they would get. A period at the end of the sentence. An ending, painful and final.
And suddenly, ten years hadn't seemed like nearly long enough.
The moment he had seen that headline in the copy of The Prophet that Lavinia had discarded on the coffee table, Remus had been reeling, like some great tether in his life had snapped and left him with... nothing. No solid ground beneath his feet, no hand to hold onto to stop the fall. Nothing.
And Lavinia had taken one look at him and walked out the front door like the sight of his face was too much to bear, too much of a reminder of the everything they had just lost. He hadn't known what to do, sitting there alone as the shock ebbed and the grief took its place, filling him with an awful hollow feeling as thoughts he did not want to think swirled in his head.
But the next thing he knew, Lavinia had set down two flasks in front of him, her expression blank, her eyes utterly empty. And he had understood that it hadn't been pain that had made her leave. It had been practicality, sense, some last bit of something left in her once the grief had swept through that had made her do this for him, made her think of him, despite a pain he knew must be debilitating. Because that was Wolfsbane Potion in front of him. He had known it without asking and it had occurred to him only then that the full moon was coming up and there would have been no one to control him. No one to keep him in check, because James and Sirius...
And the world had cleaved again. And this time, the words hadn't stayed in his head. He had needed to say them, needed her to deny them, needed her to offer him something, anything, to say that he was wrong. That they were all wrong. Sirius would never betray them.
She hadn't even let him get the words out.
Because of course she hadn't, Remus realized. Of course she hadn't wanted to hear them spoken aloud, hadn't wanted to make them real. Sirius had been her fiance, the ring was still glittering on her finger and the thought of what he had done... If it was painful for Remus, he could not imagine what it was like for her.
And to him, there was only one explanation for that refusal to let him finish: she had no denial. No evidence to the contrary and no other explanation. If she had, she would have offered it then, would have shouted it to the world just to try to clear his name because Lavinia... Lavinia defended her own. And if she wasn't defending him... then it was because she had no defense.
The confirmation had cracked something in his chest and he hadn't bothered trying to keep the tears in.
Within a few moments, Lavinia had been there, her hands on his shoulders and then her arms around him, letting him cry, letting him grieve with the support of the only friend he had left. Because that was also what Lavinia did. She helped people. And even in the middle of her own grief, she would not hesitate to help him if she thought he needed it. And he had needed it, more than he had realized until he had been sobbing into her shoulder and he had understood that there was no comfort greater than knowing that someone understood. Someone was there.
He had only realized later that Lavinia's shoulders had been steady, her breath even. She had not cried then, nor had he seen or heard her cry anytime since.
He might have marveled at her strength, might have envied her courage, except 'strength' was the wrong word. The more he watched her, the more he understood that. It was not strength that held her back straight. It was not strength that kept her eyes dry. It was not strength that had her returning to work barely a week later. It was denial. Because once again, Lavinia was running. And he did not know how to help her stand still, how to help her breathe and pause and process. He did not know how to help at all. And of course, even if he had, he doubted she would let him.
Today was almost two weeks after that awful night when everything had fallen apart and Remus had somehow managed to pull some pieces of himself back together. It was fragile and he knew that, but... but it was something. He had gotten out of bed at his usual time today instead of staring at the ceiling for hours gone uncounted. He had made himself breakfast. He had felt... something. Not normal, not at all, but something other than the aching hollow that had been filling him up.
So he was sitting on the couch, reading, when Albus Dumbledore appeared in front of the little house by the sea. The Hogwarts Headmaster looked tired and older than ever as Remus brought him in the front door and offered him tea, which he refused.
"I'm afraid," Dumbledore murmured, sounding almost apologetic, "That I am here on business today. Is Miss Selwyn home?"
Remus nodded slightly, a frown creasing his brow. "I'll go get her, shall I?" he suggested, albeit a bit hesitantly. He couldn't imagine what kind of 'business' Dumbledore might have at their house, but he didn't think it would be good. Especially not when Dumbledore looked... well, ancient, really. Like he had lived lifetimes since Lupin had last seen him. But the old man just nodded and settled himself into an armchair as Remus made his way to Lavinia's room.
She was sitting at her desk, a small sheaf of parchment in her hands, staring at it with her face utterly blank, like it had stunned her, like she didn't know what to do with it. Remus ignored the tightening in his chest and knocked on the doorframe to announce his presence. She dropped the papers and looked at him, her face utterly unchanged.
"Dumbledore's here," Remus told her gently, trying not to let his voice break as he watched her, as that little bit of something he'd felt this morning slipped away and disappeared. "He wants to talk to us both."
Lavinia watched Remus for a long moment, blinking as she registered the words. Then she nodded and took a deep breath as she stood, forcing herself not to so much as glance at the papers she'd been considering. They were the marriage forms. Papers that would have made her officially, legally, Sirius Black's wife.
She couldn't decide whether or not to burn them.
But now was not the time. Dumbledore was here. Dumbledore, who was manipulative and nosy and undoubtedly would want to ask questions. She did not want to listen to his questions. She did not want to think about any of the things she was sure he would want to know. Really, she just wanted to curl up in a corner of the world and be forgotten. But she couldn't do that. Remus needed her. Without her, or more accurately, without her income and her potions skills, he would be forced into homelessness, with his transformations unchecked and she would not leave him to that fate.
So she'd held on. By a thread, to be sure, but she'd held on. She'd gone back to work and ignored the worried glances she'd gotten from the others. Even Elias had looked at her with concern creasing his brow. She had ignored them all. She did not care. Her life right now, revolved around holding on. She had to hold on. She had to work and make money and every month, make that stupidly expensive potion because she would not fail another friend. No matter what the cost was. No matter that she was driving herself towards a breaking point that was very real and very final. No matter that the damage she was doing to herself to keep this up was painfully close to showing up as scars on her skin and not just her heart. No matter at all. Because she did not care. She just had to keep Remus safe and cared for. That was all that mattered now.
She sighed, brushing the thoughts away as best she could as she followed Remus back into the main house, to where Dumbledore waited in an armchair. At the sight of him, the exhaustion in his face... Lavinia braced herself.
The old man stood as they entered, looking at the two young adults with honest grief in his eyes. "I am so sorry for your loss," Dumbledore murmured, blinking away what might have been tears. "I hope you know I did everything I could. If I had thought there was more... I would have done it in a heartbeat."
Lavinia nearly snorted as she sat next to Remus on the couch. Not that she thought he hadn't done everything he could, but that he thought it mattered how much he had done, that his consolation came with words designed to ease his conscience, to absolve him of any guilt. Ridiculous, insensitive old man. She didn't give a shit whether or not he had done everything because it clearly hadn't been enough. So she had no interest in hearing that their deaths had come despite every precaution available. All that did was confirm what she already knew: that life was cruel and nothing in the world was enough to change it.
"Get to the point," Lavinia replied flatly, cutting off Remus's acceptance of Dumbledore's condolences. Her friend shot her a look, but she ignored him. She wanted this over with quickly. She wanted to spend as little time as possible thinking about all the many reasons why Dumbldore would offer her his sympathy. She didn't want his sympathy. The world had fallen apart and she wanted to pretend it had never happened. Pretend everything was just... normal. Even if it might never really feel normal again.
Dumbledore watched Lavinia for a long moment and she had the distinct feeling that he knew exactly why she was rushing him. She glared right back, practically daring him to say anything about it. But he merely sighed.
"I have a few matters to attend to," he said instead. "And I will preface this by saying I am sorry to be the bearer of this news."
Lavinia felt her chest tighten, her throat constrict. She hated that word. News. It never meant anything good. She would have been content, actually, to never hear any news ever again. But the world was not cooperating with that particular wish. Or any of her others, for that matter.
"First," Dumbledore began, "I wanted to be the first to tell you that Sirius has been sentenced."
The name was a gunshot in Lavinia's head. Three syllables that shattered her with a sound like a cannon. She could hear the echoes of it in her skull, could feel it like a shockwave through the endless void in her chest.
Sirius.
She had said that name so many times. With love in her voice. With exasperation, too. Or laughter or tears or longing. She had said it so many times, heard it so many times. And now... she never wanted to hear it again.
"But-" Remus was now saying, confusion lacing the world right along with the pain, "He hasn't even stood trial yet."
Lavinia glanced at her friend, the strangled hope in his voice making her chest cave in. The way he said those words... he had hoped that a trial might clear his friend. Had hoped beyond hope that more information would come out, that by some miracle, Sirius would be cleared. She almost pitied him for it except... except she too could feel some small kernel of something flickering and dying in her chest at Dumbledore's words.
The old man sighed. "Barty Crouch," he explained, the words hinting at a slight dislike of the man, "Has been given certain... ah... extra powers in light of the current situation. Sirius is not the only one who has been sentenced without trial."
"What.... What was..." Remus ventured, the words trailing off like he couldn't bear to get them out, like he wasn't sure he wanted to know.
Dumbledore answered anyway.
"Life in Azkaban," he murmured.
Lavinia hated the gentleness in his voice, hated that he spoke the words like he was delivering a blow and wanted any way to soften it. And she hated herself for not feeling so much as a sting at the news. The knowledge of his sentence simply dropped into the hole in her chest and was swallowed by the void.
Life in Azkaban.
She'd expected as much, had accepted it as reality and shoved the awful pain it brought deep down inside the void so she would never have to think of it again. Because she knew what that really meant. A life of torture as the Dementors feasted on his despair. A life of endless darkness and pain. A life that would probably be short. She envied him that last part even as the rest of it made something quail inside of her. She would not have wished the Dementors on her worst enemy, nevermind her... well she didn't really know what he was these days, but she hoped he died quickly, if only because she didn't want him to suffer, no matter what he had done. Because... because she loved him. Even if she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to anymore.
"What else are you here for?" demanded Lavinia, her voice still flat and even.
Dumbledore looked at her again even as Remus pressed his face into his hands and guilt flickered in her momentarily. Flickered, and died. Like every other feeling.
"James and Lily Potter's will has been examined and deemed legitimate by the Ministry of Magic," he informed them. "They have left everything to their son. There is only one issue."
Lavinia waited, knowing Dumbledore wanted her to ask, guessing that he was doing what Remus so often did. That he was trying to get her to speak, to feel. But she had nothing to say and nothing to feel. So she merely watched him.
Dumbledore sighed again, the sound old and tired. "The problem is that of who has custody of young Harry."
Lavinia blinked, a small bubble of shame rising in her. She had forgotten about Harry. Somehow, she had forgotten that the child was orphaned, that he needed a place to go. And that she... she had been named guardian. She and Sirius. The child's godparents. Intended to raise him together in a loving, stable home. To nurture him so he would grow up as a child ought. So he would live knowing he was loved.
The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, think about them. Four words that damned her. "I don't want him."
Dumbledore's eyebrows flicked upwards as Remus pulled his face from his hands to glare at her, incredulous anger written over every feature.
"Miss Selwyn..." Dumbledore started, then broke off with a sigh and shook his head.
"Vin," Remus managed, the sound strangled, like his grief was choking him.
Lavinia did not care. She would not expose a child to herself right now. Would not bring him into this house that echoed with grief, into these arms that were scarred and begged to bleed. Into this heart that didn't seem to exist anymore. She knew better. She was in no state to look after a child. Anywhere he would go would be better. Anyone who would take him would be better. Because right now... she couldn't be trusted to keep even herself alive, nevermind nurture a child. And one with Lily's eyes. And James's hair.
Little Harry Potter deserved better than her. She was sure of it. And no amount of condemnation from Remus could do anything to change it.
"I came here today," Dumbledore began, something almost like disappointment in his voice. Like he had at least expected her to put up a fight. "To ask you to give up your rights to custody. I can protect Harry if he stays with those who share his blood."
"How?" Remus interjected, curiosity apparently overtaking some of his rage.
"Blood magic," Lavinia replied blandly, not bothering to explain what that meant. "So there you go," she continued, turning to Dumbledore. "I rescind my right to custody."
The old man watched her for another long moment, his eyes piercing as she met him and waited for him to divine whatever it was he could. And maybe he did see something there because after a pause, the Headmaster inclined his head slightly. He stood, then seemed hesitate. "Miss Selwyn," Dumbledore murmured, a horrible sympathy coating the words and making Lavinia wonder just how much the old man had seen in her gaze or in her mind. "Remember to live," he murmured. "To find joy in life. Your friends would not want you to give up."
Lavinia stared flatly at the old man, wondering vaguely at his gall.
Remember to live.
Remember I love you.
Something snapped loudly in Lavinia's core. Something that felt important and irreplaceable broke with such a force and noise that Lavinia was surprised that no one else seemed to hear it.
"I don't care," she informed him flatly, her voice shaking slightly. "Now if that's all you had to say, get the hell out of my house."
Dumbledore watched her calmly for another long moment. "Please," he murmured, and it wasn't a request to stay, or for more kindness in her tone, or anything of the sort. No, it was a request to remember. Remember to live. Like the old man knew just how much she wished she didn't have to. Like he knew that if Remus hadn't been there... she would already be gone.
"Just go," she whispered, her voice breaking and tears pressing at her eyes for the first time since everything had fallen apart. "Please just go."
Dumbledore inclined his head again and, without another word, left the house, leaving silence and grief in his wake.
A/N: So I'm back. And this is a long one too, so maybe that kind of makes up for the absence lol. I know it was terrible timing but... oh well.
The trip was super fun, even if the second day on the river (today) was cold as all hell. I think I'm still trying to warm up. But it's cool. I have several sunburns too, which is also cool. The best part about them is that I sunburnt my lips, which sucks obviously, but right not there this lovely shade of red that I would love to just naturally have. It's genuinely so pretty. But also I will be hardcore peeling in a day or two, so I think I'll stick with lipstick if I ever want to replicate this lol. Other than the sunburns and cold tho, I had a ton of fun and some really good food to boot. It was a nice last hurrah before school starts and I end up with no sleep and too much work. Plus the river is pretty and nature is pretty and I didn't get any bug bites so that's a massive win :)
Anyway, as usual, I hope y'all enjoy and I'll be back again tomorrow!