The Rise And Fall Of The Stag And The Doe

medicine

The room wasn't silent, but it was three tones quieter than any other room that held more than 60 occupants. Sirius was standing in the back of the room. He pretended to take a sip of the water in his hand, before giving up and throwing it away all together.

Sirius's eyes skipped around the room. It was Remus and Dorcas's turn to stay by Peter. James and Lily were talking with her parents, probably saying something nice about Heather to make them feel better. Sirius sighed and unbuttoned the top button on his dress shirt. It was cutting off his air supply, but he found that even when he loosened it there was some difficulty breathing. He didn't know why. Sure it wasn't comfortable being a Peter's girlfriend's funeral, but it could have been worse. It could have been Peter or James.

Still he kept checking his watch and wishing it were time to leave. It wasn't like he wanted to go shag a girl or throw a party. He just really had no business being at this funeral. Heather was a nice girl and he was happy for Peter, she made him happy, but now that she was gone he didn't have a single thing to say. 'I'm sorry mate,' just really didn't seem to be enough to fit the bill. This was his area of expertise. Need some booze, a wingman? A good time? Then he was the guy for the job, but the was beyond his depth.

If anyone asked him what he honestly thought of himself he would say he wasn't a deep person. He had shitty racist parents, he got out, had the best mates in the world and would die for them. That was it really. It was pretty basic and simple with him. People liked to make him out to be this wounded man, but he knew they were just looking for a reason why he didn't fit neatly into what they thought he should be. And that was their problem.

His eyes flickered over a group of crying sixth year girls, no doubt some friends of Heather's, he continued looking until his eyes settled on the only person still sitting in a seat. He tried to look away and he might have managed it, if he didn't see the redness around her eyes and the trembling of her shoulders. Honestly he wanted so badly not to care, but he couldn't ignore her.

"Fuck," He grumbled under his breath, before reluctantly strutting over and sitting down beside her.

Marlene didn't look at him; her eyes were locked on the large picture of Heather next to the table lined with food. "What do you want?" She asked in a broken tone.

"Nothing." He answered honestly.

She nodded, and hung her head as her hair began to stick to the sides of her damp face.

"Come on," He nudged her somberly.

"Wwhat?"

"Let's get some air."

Marlene gave him a reproachful look. "What?"

"Come on."

She scoffed, but stood up and followed him outside. It was dark out, and the clouds couldn't decide whether or not it wanted to rain or not. A few drops fell, it wasn't consistent, the chilly wind was though. It didn't feel like a July night, more like a late fall one, but regardless they both stood there.

Marlene wrapped her arms around herself, looking down at the hem of her plain black dress. Her nose was bright pink, but the rest of her face was ghostly pale.

"You know," Her voice thick, "She was terrified...Lily held it together for the most part. Esmee and Peter pulled through...but not her...Her face, she was so scared. And I wasn't there."

"If you didn't leave Lily and James would have been killed. There wouldn't have been any back up to arrive to save them."

"I know. I know I did the right thing and if I had the choice again I'd have to do the whole over again." Marlene blinked, tears splashing down her cheeks. "The others wouldn't have known where Mr. Potter's office was or gotten to the Ministry as fast...but I still feel guilty, because she was so scared and she was right to be. She died and I wish I could say or do something, but I just sit with Peter and he doesn't say anything. He just sits there. It's like he died too."