1982 | Remus Lupin

Chapter Seven

[A/N there may be some slight plot holes in this as i haven't written this book in months (maybe even over a year) so please bear with me as i try and find my bearings also slightly short chapter but also rather important] 

Chapter Seven

There was something about the rain that overwhelmed Romy in such a way that her world seemed to stop. She had a makeshift window seat by her window that she leaned on, head damp with condensation and her mind drifting with old thoughts. Sometimes days rolled by and with it, her mood turned sad. Just...sad. There was no other way to put it, really.

Loneliness was a curse to many, and loneliness was a symptom of her pain. She was stripped of everything in the midst of a war on her people and it pained her every day that she lived. She could force it out of her mind, punish herself to forget about it but something about the rain made old memories rise to the surface.

Like bones buried deep in graveyard, the rain would wash them to the top – visibley in sight for all to see. That was like her memories whenever the bright blue sky turned grey. She always did love the patter of rain on her window before, and sometimes she could remember the smile on her face when the rain trickled down her window and she would curl up in her soft bed with a nice book and warm socks.

Now, though. She could do the same, but concentration and focus would never find her. She'd be too stuck in the world gone by. She'd have tears rolling down her face, much like they were now, and she'd wallow in her sadness.

Her nails were digging into her skin so much she drew blood, but she didn't seem to notice. Dark circles adorned under her eyes and her pyjamas didn't leave her body. The dark, never-ending nightmare that plagued her endless thoughts had left her in a state of shaken fear and sadness...and again, she knew it came with the rain.

She had decided not to show up for work. She contacted the café from the muggle telephone in her apartment, and with a hoarse voice had said she couldn't come in. Charles didn't seem too pleased, and when he reprimanded her, she snarkily replied, "then fire me then or I'll see you tomorrow."

He was silent, surprised too. He didn't expect that from Romy, and he didn't expect that voice from her, it was a tone he wasn't used to, and he never said anything. She merely took that as a 'see you tomorrow' and hanged up the phone with a slam.

She had always wondered what would happen if that...thing returned. The cause of the war, the end-all and kill all of the things and people she loved the most in this world. She would sacrifice all she had to see her parents again, just one last day with them to say she loved them. She had dreams – well, nightmares of the thought of the thing returning.

The first day she would get a letter, from someone she knew.

"Romy," it would start. Scribbled and frantic, "he's back."

That was what she could remember from her dream, and then a glowing green light would engulf her, and everything would turn black. She could feel it, though. The terror, the fear, the dread in the pit of her stomach like she was living it.

It shook her to her very core, and she could do nothing about it.

There was a banging on her door, and it brought her back to reality. She grumbled, sighing miserably to herself and crossing her apartment living room to open the old wooden door that was practically crumbling to pieces.

There stood a boy, arm raised halfway in the air and in his other arm was a container pressed to his waist. She didn't know him. He was slightly taller than her, long messy hair just below his ears barely styled and curly in all sorts of directions.

He wore the brightest smile and had the bluest eyes.

"Hello!" he beamed, quickly dropping his hand. He had an accent...he was American, "I'm Sawyer, I've just moved in across the hall. I thought I would introduce myself to my neighbours. I made you bread!"

He thrusted the container in her direction, and Romy was not in the mood to deal with an overly enthusiastic neighbour, but she cautiously took the container, "you're not a people person...no?"

She grumbled a half-assed response about it not being the best day, and he merely shrugged, "we all have our days! I can come back another time – well, if that's okay with you, of course!"

She forced a smile, small and slightly tugged at her lips. She wasn't usually like this. It was definitely an unusual sight for anyone to see Romy like this, but she felt as though any traces of happiness had left her and she felt hollow. She had no words that she could say, a part of her feeling slightly guilty for being rude.

"Thank you for the bread." It was merely a response and with that she closed the door in his face. It was momentary guilt, trudging back along her floor to the windowsill to look out at the dreary day that bustled by.

Sometimes she had nothing she wished to do than to sit in her old and run-down apartment that she could barely pay for and ignore the world go by as she simultaneously watched other people live their lives in front of her.

Like the couple, she saw share a quick kiss under their umbrella. Or the two kids pedalling on her bike. She wished to feel their happiness, to feel the rain around them and the cold air nip her skin, maybe with a hand to hold and warmth to embrace as she did so.

Maybe, just maybe, she hoped as she sat there with rain splashing on her cold window, that one day she would experience true happiness. That a smile that painted her pink lips would be genuine. That she wouldn't spend the rest of her life in a fucking café and that she would maybe feel a tug at her heart to pick up her wand.

It was a far-fetched hope, and she knew it.

But she wished as she sat there, curled up with her knees to her chest and her eyes filled with fresh hot tears once more.