Chapter 184: Summer 1994
Summary:
This was very, very hard to write, so I hope you can all forgive me for how all over the place it is.
As I said, I have absolutely no desire to re-hash scenes from the books, so this is as close as we'll get.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
If you, if you could return
Don't let it burn
Don't let it fade
I'm sure I'm not being rude,
But it's just your attitude
It's tearing me apart
It's ruining every day
I swore I would be true
And fellow, so did you...
Were you lying all the time?
Was it just a game to you?
August 1994
For the first week or so after Remus returned from Hogwarts, he didn't know how to feel. For the first time in a very long time, Remus was lost; untethered, drifting. He wandered around the flat like a ghost, going through the movements of everyday life, but feeling nothing.
It wasn't depression. He knew what depression felt like.
"It's shock," said Grant.
"Oh." said Remus, staring blankly at the TV.
Obviously he'd expected Hogwarts to stir up old memories. He'd known from the start that re-visiting the place could easily ruin him, but he'd done it anyway. Maybe he was a masochist. Maybe just stupid.
The castle was filled with ghosts from Remus's past, which was a deeply unsettling experience after spending the better part of a decade trying to forget all of it. The moment he arrived at King's Cross it all came flooding back - the pokey little train carriages with the worn-out upholstery; the trolley witch, chocolate frogs, the bustle and noise of students embarking on a new term. With the full moon ahead of him, he'd squirrelled away in a compartment and promptly fallen asleep.
Until the carriage turned cold, and the dementors...
No. Anyway; ghosts. McGonagall was perhaps the strangest. She must have known he would be coming, but their first meeting had hit Remus harder than expected, and she'd seemed just as surprised as him. They weren't quite sure how to relate to each other, now.
"Mr Lupin! Oh - I'm sorry, Professor Lupin."
"Hello Prof-- I mean... er..."
"Minerva, please," she smiled gracefully.
She reached out and squeezed his arm. She was every bit as formidable as she had been twenty years ago, only a little greyer at the temples. But then, so was he. "It's wonderful to see you, Remus." She said, earnestly.
"It's good to be back," he lied.
Her eyes were soft and kind, as if she could see right through him.
"My office is always open, if you need anything. As ever."
He appreciated the gesture, but didn't prevail upon her very often, largely because he wanted to keep to himself. He also wanted to stay away from Gryffindor tower, if he could.
The rest of the school was familiar; the lush expansive grounds, the secretive forest, the food, the portraits, the staircases he had mapped so carefully. But Gryffindor Tower - the most intimate and happy space of his adolescence; that would be almost too much to recover from. He was put in mind of Homer, once again - the word 'nostalgia', which meant a painful homecoming. That was exactly how it felt.
