Epilogue

Remus Lupin was not yet forty years old, but his graying hair and wizen eyes made him appear to be much older. He had seen much too much in his short life-time. Though, he didn't like calling it short, as it seemed to be decades longer than any of his childhood friends. He remembered the day of their deaths vividly and the memories came back at the most awful of times.

Tonight was one of those awful times. His lifelong friend, mentor, and teacher had passed away that very night. The truth be told, he was murdered that night. Betrayed. Murdered. He was gone. Just like so many before him. And the many that would follow him.

Kicking off his boots, Remus grabbed a bottle of tequila out of the kitchen and proceeded upstairs. Tequila had been Lucy's drink, but he had grown to like it. He loved it in fact. He would spend every moment of his life, that wasn't spent trying to destroy her murderer, drowning in the stuff just because it remind him of her. It made him forget that she was really gone. The taste of it, the smell of it, the way it burned his throat, it reminded him of her. He could picture her smile as she pulled a wedge of lime from between her teeth, or dancing around a tall fire the bottle in her hand.

He entered Sirius' room in hopes that he would felt less lonely there. He hadn't been in there in almost a year. Not since he… fell through the veil. Taking a swig of the alcohol, Remus dropped to a chair in front of a battered old desk. Sitting on top of it was a dusty old envelope with "Harry" written on it in faded black ink.

It was Sirius' handwriting, they had written too many notes back and forth in school for Remus not to recognize it. Underneath it was a large stack of papers. Flipping through the manuscript and finding each one covered with Sirius' untidy scrawl Remus blinked, sitting the tequila bottle on the desk. "What exactly were you up to, Padfoot? Writing a novel?"

Opening the envelope he read:

Dear Harry,

The tale that follows is a love story, don't worry it is a good one, filled with more than just the mushy stuff. It has sword fights, snotty Slytherins, action, adventure, sexy women, and a very real evil villain. I know you still aren't interested, but you will be. This is the tale of your parents. I won't lie and say everything happened exactly the way I am going to tell you it did, mainly because Moony will disagree with me, but also because I never remember anything exactly the way it happens. Okay, I admit it, I like to embellish, but I will attempt to keep it at a minimum, and if anything gets too unbelievable you can ask Remus, he will correct me, he always does.

I hope this gives you some idea of the people your parents were. I know it won't fill the gap… but maybe it will help you understand the reasons behind the choices they made.

---Sirius Black

Smirking slightly, he placed the letter to the side and looked down at the first page. "The Seventh Year, Retold by Sirius Black."

"We were all there, except your dad, of course, he was always late. I swear your mum could have ripped his head off at times…"

O

It had taken him ages to finally fall asleep. She understood why and it didn't bother her in the slightest. She was rather intrigued by the tale herself and stood invisibly behind him for hours reading over his shoulder until she became tired with standing and she crawled into his lap.

He didn't notice. He read straight through her head. That was odd, but she supposed she should be used to it by now.

But, he had fallen asleep, though, and now it was time. Time to wake him, time to make him hurt again, time to die a little more herself (if you could really die any more after death), time to warn him.

Last time she had came to comfort him, this time it was to protect him. She wished she could call herself a guardian angel that would have made her presence so easy to understand, but she wasn't. Lucy didn't believe in angels.

She clicked into view and wandered over to his bedside. He was sleeping peacefully, one arm tucked behind his head the other thrown carelessly across his chest. Breathing slowly, rhythmically, his chest rising and falling in that same pattern that was so familiar to her, smelling faintly of tequila. Part of her hated to wake him, part of her wanted to watch him sleep forever, part of her wanted to crawl in beside him and stay there until the earth died and faded away.

However, it was not fated to be that way, she had been taken from him long ago and she knew that, but it didn't do anything to numb that part of her that longed for him. Well, all of her longed for him, but she could pretend that it was only part, sometimes.

Climbing over the top of him, staring down into that peaceful face, that face that felt so much like home she struggled to keep tears from filling her eyes. She wouldn't let that happen though, she might not get this opportunity again; she definitely wouldn't get this opportunity again. Pressing her lips to his, she murmured his name, gently calling him from his slumber.

He blinked up to those eyes. Those eyes that had haunted from for ages. It seemed that everyone had those eyes when they died. They were copper, Sirius had always said they were like shiny new pennies, but that wasn't true. No, her eyes were the color of the sea when the sun set, a soft glowing copper, like his own personal heaven. "Lucy?" he whispered hoarsely, afraid that speaking would cause whatever hallucination this was to flee, and he desperately didn't want that to happen.

Her lips quirked up into that smile, gods that smile that killed him. "You've gone grey, Moons," she whispered running her tiny fingers through his hair, sitting back on his thighs, coaxing him forward.

"Gods, Lucy, I've missed you," he said hoarsely, sitting up in the bed, fighting the urge to hug her until she couldn't breathe and never let her go.

Teasing him, she breathed against his lips. "Really, I thought you were doing quite a good job erasing me from your memories." She was exactly the same as he remembered her, still young, still breath taking, still wearing her hair in that choppy cut she gave herself after the fire.

Long slender fingers buried themselves in her hair and the palm of his hand caressed her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed and she took a sharp intake of breath. Gods, it had been so long. He kissed her breathless, his hands knotting her hair, her body pressing up against him in desire and need as their tongues battled ceaselessly. A tiny smile tugged at his lips as he breathed, "I could never forget you, babe," against her lips before pulling away.

A large round tear rolled down her cheek and he brushed it away with his thumb. "You should, Remus, you should." She pressed her lips together praying he wouldn't hear the pain in her voice.

Trailing wet kisses from her lips to her ear, he whispered, "No, Lucy, no, I shouldn't, not ever."

She sniffed shaking her head, putting an end to the path their conversation was heading down. They had had it before and it make her ache so much more than she already did. "I am here for a reason, you know. I don't have long."

He nodded, leaning back. "I know, I know. You're never just here anymore," he answered regretfully, sorely.

She kissed him hard, delving her tongue into his mouth, tasting, memorizing, touching, every bit of him she could. She didn't want to go without knowing him just one more time. Pushing him back down on to the bed, she attempted to undo the buttons of his shirt as quickly as she could. Knowing he would stop her; because he had to, not because he wanted to. He knew it and she knew it. Finally, settling for ripping it apart she ran her hands up and down his chest, and gods he felt the same.

Matching her every move, he had her top off and thrown somewhere near the door before he caught himself. He couldn't do this, they didn't have the time, they never had the time. "Lucy," he breathed. She whimpered and pulled back. "I'm sorry."

Her blonde hair fell into her eyes as she looked away. "No, I shouldn't have… fuck, Moony, I miss you so." Her eyes were filled with tears again when she finally brought her gaze back to his.

"I know, love. I know." He brushed her hair out of her eyes and waited in silence until she was able to start.

"Hunter says hello." He grinned at her opening line. She always started with something along those lines. Someone said hello that was gone long before her, so there was no way he could forget that she was gone as well. He sat up placing his hands on her bare thighs. Her eyes closed and she shivered at his touch, her head slightly thrown back, her lips parted. "Please, Moony, not there," she practically begged. He knew it would do that to her, things hadn't changed, and he had each and everyone one of her reactions to him burned in his brain. He smirked, she wouldn't look at him, he knew that.

Taking his hands in hers she moved them to her hips, never looking at him. Running his hand up her back, remembering her skin, he kissed her until she was breathless once more. "I'm sorry, Lucy. I should have remembered that." He pretended to be sincere in his apology.

She laughed. "You did remember that. You just like to tease me."

Smirking, he stared down at the tattered quilt on the bed. "Well, you can't blame me for that."

"No, I suppose not." She kissed him briefly.

He toyed with her hair and waited for her to say what she had been sent here to stay.

"Sirius," she whispered. He nodded, sadly, they had been through this before. "He's jaded." It broke her heart to say that. Part of him was glad she had left before their friend. It would have killed her to see him after James and Lily's death. To see him arrested, to see him mad, to see him broken.

"Yes," he agreed.

"I think he can be happy again." She smiled, he didn't answer. He wasn't sure if he could. "Lily says to take care of Harry."

"She always does," he responded softly.

Running her fingers through his hair again she smiled softly. "The new girl, with the pink hair. I like her."

He stared at her heartbrokenly. "Lucy, I had you. I don't need anyone else." She was always doing this, always trying to make him move on.

She looked to the left, chewing her bottom lip. "She's cute though," she said with a shrug.

"You're cute," he answered, kissing her nose.

Rolling her eyes she whispered, "I'm dead," against his lips, sealing the statement with a kiss.

With a heavy sigh, he pulled back. "Must you keep reminding me that I am the only bloody one left."

"Sorry," she answered innocently, starring down at her hands as if scolded. It hit him then, not that she was really gone, he knew that, but how young she was, still was. He had aged, that was for sure, grey hair, glasses, even a little grumpy every now and then. But her, she was still twenty-three and smiling. She was still a child.

"Are you going to say what you are here to say or are we going to play games all night?" he huffed. He wasn't mad at her, he couldn't be. He was just so tired of losing everyone.

Crawling out of his lap, and standing on the cold floor, she nodded. "Yeah, I am going to tell you." She wrapped her arms around herself, her back to him. "I just miss our games," she said weakly. It was horrible that she could still hurt so much just by his words when she was dead.

Shouldn't the afterlife be peaceful, in some way? It shouldn't hurt so much that they had to be apart. She shouldn't feel like she was dying if she was already dead.

"Gods, Luce, I'm sorry." He tried to touch her, but she pulled away.

She wanted him so much. "I can't. Not if I can feel you. Please, just wait." Nodding, he waited.

She always needed this, when she needed to say something she didn't want to say. The moments dragged by before she murmured, "Professor Dumbledore, he arrived today. He was smiling."

"He's really gone, then?" He had known he was gone, but a part of him hung on to the childish belief that he was going to pop out of a hat soon.

"Yes." She still wasn't looking at him, but he was staring at her.

He looked down at the floor. "I knew that, deep down."

"I know, love." Now, she wanted him to hold her, he knew it and so he did.

Standing up, wrapping his arms around her and smoothing down her hair he whispered, "He was smiling, huh?"

"Yes." A smile tugged at her lips for a moment before it fell away. "He is afraid, you are all going to make a mistake."

"And, you can't tell me what the mistake is, can you?" Tilting her head so she could look up at him she told him she couldn't. "If I guess right will you nod?" he asked playfully.

Laughing, she kissed his chin. "You know I can't do that."

"Can I have a hint?"

"Not everything is as it seems," she whispered. Sadness was washing over her now. She was going to leave soon. She had to leave soon.

He closed his eyes and kissed her head. "I know that, love."

She stood up on her toes and whispered into his ear. "Cole says, sometimes we do things that seem evil, but they are really just merciful." That was her hint and he understood it perfectly. Not that it helped any really, the others would never believe him. After all, look at how he had found out. His was told by his wife, who had been dead for nearly seventeen years while having a hallucination.

"Lucy, don't go," he begged.

She kissed him hard, once more, and he tumbled back onto the bed. It wasn't long before they both received what they so desperately wanted for so long.

He lay there beside her drawing shapes on her bare back and tears fell down both their cheeks, because this was it. She would be leaving now. Turning to her side she propped her head up on her hand. "Moons, it's going to be a long time, you know. And I, I don't mind, Remus. She's a sweet girl. I like her hair."

"Lucy…" he moaned.

"Remus, you deserve some happiness. You deserve some sex. You deserve some fun. Just because I am dead doesn't mean you can't have a life. Stop drinking yourself to me and love her."

"I want you, Lucy."

Caressing his cheek, she said quietly, "You can't have me anymore, babe. I'm gone. She loves you." Smiling, she kissed him briefly. "How could she not? Look at you, you're perfection even though you're all old and gray."

"Lucy," he cried softly and she laid back down beside him.

"Please, Remus, don't be a bastard."

"I am not being a bastard. I am doing her a favor. She doesn't want me, she only thinks she does. She's still in her twenties, Lucy," he said, as a desperate attempt to get her to stop.

"Oh, I get it." She grinned widely. "It's okay to sleep with your dead twenty-something wife, but not with a girl exactly the same age who is alive."

"How can you even think of letting another women take your place?" he asked, moodily.

"You never smile anymore," she whispered.

Sighing heavily, he pulled her closer. "How am I suppose to smile when you aren't here?"

"She could make you smile."

He kissed the top of her head. "Fine," he huffed. "What do you want me to do? Take her to a movie?"

Shaking her head, Lucy said, "No, take her to our place on the beach. Teach her to surf."

"But–"

"You need a surf buddy," she interrupted him, smiling brightly.

"Okay," he whispered, "I'll take her surfing."

"Good," Lucy said, smiling softly and kissing his cheek one last time before she was gone with a tiny little click.

Thank you all so much for reading. I do hope you enjoyed, and please review. I do love to hear from you. --Summer