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Angels on the Moon by doratonks14
Chapter 1 : Angels on the Moon
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 5


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Do you dream, that the world will know your name?
So tell me your name
And do you care, about all the little things or anything at all? 

 
I leaned against the railing of the balcony connected to my apartment, swirling the can of beer in my hand absentmindedly. Below me the shrieks of sirens and the sounds of New York city life at night swirled around, oblivious to the pain and suffering that was happening thousands of miles away, in a world they probably had no knowledge of. They did not know that everything in the world had just been irrevocably and changed forever. They did not understand the fact that it took all the willpower I had left in my body not to jump off of the balcony and join them. 

I looked again at the crushed sheet of parchment in my other hand and felt the tears well up behind my eyes again. I thought I had cried myself out earlier. Apparently it wasn’t enough yet. I bit my lip in an effort to stop the tears from falling and tasted the salty metallic flavor of blood in my mouth. I stopped biting my lip and took another swig of beer instead, trying to focus on anything but what I should do next. 

I gazed up at the sky, hoping to see some sign, to see some sort of recognition in the stars. They were up there now, weren’t they? They were looking down on me, on Sirius, on little Harry. They were thinking of us all. Wishing they were here. Weren’t they? They had to be.  

 
I wanna feel, all the chemicals inside I wanna feel
I wanna sunburn, just to know that I'm alive
To know I'm alive 



The New York sky was empty of all stars. Overhead hung a curtain of velvety blue darkness, unmarked by any of the twinkling bodies of light I so hoped to see. Empty of all angels, of anything good and pure. It mocked me with its inky blackness, suffocating me, pressing down on me, taunting me. I should have been up there too. I should have stayed in England. I should have told Dumbledore that he was off his rocker for wanting me to leave my friends while they were in such grave danger.

I was a coward. I ran away. I hid because they feared that any friends of James and Lily’s would be threatened. Sirius had stayed. Sirius had wanted to keep fighting. Sirius was now in jail. And Peter. Little Peter, who had always had trouble being brave and chivalrous, he had stayed. But now look at him. He too was dead. Killed by Sirius. Who would have thought that best friend would turn on best friend? Who would have thought that four very different little boys would grow up to become best friends – brothers? Who would have thought that those same four  boys would leave school to directly join in on the greatest war ever known to Wizard kind? Who would have thought that the bonds shared by the four boys would have meant nothing, and those allegiances would be broken, as brother turns on brother. 

Who would have thought those four boys would be the Marauders? 


Don't tell me if I'm dying, 'cause I don't wanna know
If I can't see the sun, maybe I should go
Don't wake me 'cause I'm dreaming, of angels on the moon
Where everyone you know, never leaves too soon 



Why hadn’t it been me? What made me any different from the rest of them? Why was it that their lives ended so abruptly, so cruelly? And why hadn’t they taken me with them? 

Maybe my time was coming to a close too. Maybe there were Death Eaters crossing the Atlantic right now, seeking me, the last Marauder out. Maybe I would join them soon. I would become an angel, where there was nothing left to hurt me. I would join them up there in the empty night sky – a master of the moon.  

Where did you go when you died? Was there such a place as heaven? Or did you become another light in the night sky – another star, another beacon of hope for all of those left here on earth? There were no lights in the sky tonight. Just the blackness of the heavens and the blaze of the nearly full moon in the sky. Maybe once you died you went to the moon. It was a rather pleasing thought to think of James and Lily sitting up on the moon right now, their hands entwined, smiling down on those they’d left behind. Peter would be there too, although he would sit a little bit away from them, not wanting to disturb their moment of bliss.  

It was all so familiar. It was all so normal. It still did not feel as if they were dead. I still felt as if I could fly back to England right now and apparate to Godric’s Hollow and that I would see the little cottage there, the blinds not yet drawn. Lily would be sitting on the couch, reading a book while James sat leaning against the couch, polishing his broomstick for the day that he would be allowed to fly it again. Little Harry would upstairs sleeping in his crib. James would reach up and play with a strand of her long red hair and Lily would smile that tiny bemused smiled that was reserved solely for her young husband.  

They were too young. They had had such a bright future ahead of them. Just out of school and married, with a beautiful baby boy that had just turned a year old. I wasn’t sure if anyone else knew, but Lily had told me just days before their death that she was expecting another child. James would have been so happy. He made the best father. Even at just barely twenty-three years old he was the best father I had ever seen. He had loved Harry more than anything else in his life, besides Lily of course. 

It was not fair. Why was it always the ones that had the most to lose that went? Why did God not take the one’s like me, who had no family, no property, no money, and hardly any future to speak of? But most importantly, why did he have to take them all away from me?  


Do you believe, in the day that you were born?
Tell me, do you believe?
And do you know, that everyday's the first of the rest of your life? 



I could picture James and Lily so vividly. Even Peter, who I hadn’t seen for a long time before I left was vivid in my memory. And Sirius – well, I wouldn’t think about Sirius right now. I couldn’t think about Sirius right now. Not if I wanted to remain sane at all. I took another swig of my drink and smacked my lips together. 

My friends wouldn’t have wanted to see me like this. They wouldn’t want me to mourn their loss. Well, maybe James would have been flattered, with that big head of his. But really, they wouldn’t have wanted me to be sad. They would want me to move on with my life, to keep fighting. It was so hard though. How could I move on, and be strong, when there was no one left for me to lean on – if there was no one for me to fall back on if I got hurt?  

I was alone now, and I was terrified. We had always done everything as a group. We functioned as one entity – James the leader, the implementer, the idea man; Sirius, the courage, the rashness, the freedom; Peter, the fear, the anxiety, the bit that gets left behind at times; and me, Remus, the brain, the rational side, the patience. Together, we were unstoppable. Then Voldemort came along, and tore us apart. He and his damn Death Eaters had ruined our lives, ended our lives, and then laughed in our faces. 

We were mortal. We were children. We were children trying to act like adults. And we had been punished for it. 


Don't tell me if I'm dying, 'cause I don't wanna know
If I can't see the sun, maybe I should go
Don't wake me 'cause I'm dreaming, of angels on the moon
Where everyone you know, never leaves too soon 



My chest felt tight as I gazed up at the sky. I knew that no matter what I decided to do it would be one of the hardest decisions of my life. The pressure in my chest tightened as I stared at the moon, trying to think about what they would have told me to do. James would probably have said that I should go back and look after little Harry. Lily would have agreed with James, but would have told me that I should do what was right for me. And Peter would have just smiled his little watery smile and asked me why I was asking him.  

I wished it was all a terrible dream. At least if it was a nightmare I would be waking up soon. But this was no nightmare. The pure agony and grief that tore at my very soul was all too real for this to be a dream. The feeling of the paper in my hand was too real. The slightly askew shift in my vision from all of the alcohol was much too real. For once in my life I was upset to be awake. For once in my life I wished I could be asleep. Any nightmares I would have had would have paled in comparison to the hell I was going through now. 

I tipped my beer can back into my mouth again, seeking the relief of the alcohol in my system. I wished I had Firewhiskey. This muggle stuff was crap. I’d had at least twelve of them and was not feeling it one bit. But I’d left my Firewhiskey back in England. 


This is to one last day in the shadows
And to know a brother's love
This is to New York City angels
And the rivers of our blood
This is to all of us, to all of us  


I finished the can before I had even realized that I was half gone and I was thoroughly disappointed when I tried to tip back another gulp and all I got was a small drop on my tongue. I crushed the can in my hand, feeling very satisfied when I heard the telltale crunch. 

It was probably better that I stopped drinking. Alcohol was not going to help me make a better decision. Alcohol would make it harder. Sure, it took the edge off a bit. But I couldn’t go on doing this forever. Alcohol was not the answer to my problems. 

I looked at the crushed can in my hand. In a moment of pure inspiration I chucked it as hard and far away from me as I could. It flew through the air and disappeared into the night, and I never saw it again. I looked down at the little pile of cans I had collected next to the lone chair on the balcony. I picked up two more and repeated the process, my heartbeat increasing with each throw. Finally, all of the cans were gone and I was laughing hysterically, tears streaming down my cheeks. I wasn’t sure what was so funny, if anything was funny at all, or if anything would ever be funny again. But in that moment I laughed, and laughed, until my sides were screaming and I was panting for air.  

 I fell down onto the hard concrete and just lay there, staring up at the empty sky, my breathing slowly subsiding until it was a normal pace again. Even when I was done collecting myself I remained laying there, just listening to myself breath. 

I was very much alive. They were very much not. They would never have the luxury of breathing again. They would never feel again, see again, talk again. Had I really wanted to give that all up so soon? I placed my hand over my stomach and felt the gentle rise and fall of my chest.  Still as steady and alive as ever. 

I had to still be here for some karmic, crazy reason. I had to have some greater purpose on this planet. I was not meant to sit in some little apartment in New York, moping over the fact that they were gone for the rest of my life. It would be a waste of the gift I had been given.  

I stood up from the concrete and slid open the door to my dingy apartment. My stuff was still sitting in boxes along the wall of the living room. For once I was glad that I had been too depressed to unpack. It would make this so much easier.  

I shoved the few pieces of clothes that were scattered all over the floor into the nearest box and grabbed my dirty dished out of the sink and threw those in there too. I wasn’t even really aware of what I was doing. All I knew was that I had to get out of here. I had to go back. I had to face everything I was afraid of. I had to do it for Lily and James. I had to do it for Peter. I had to do it for baby Harry. I had to do it for Sirius too. And most importantly I had to do it for me.   


So don't tell me if I'm dying, 'cause I don't wanna know
If I can't see the sun, maybe I should go
Don't wake me cause I'm dreaming, of angels on the moon
Where everyone you know, never leaves too soon 



I was scared. This was probably the most terrifying thing I had done in my entire life. I never acted rashly. I never acted on an impulse. I was Remus, the sensible one, the conscience. Now I was throwing caution to the wind and starting over.  

I picked up the two boxes that I had and ran down the stairs, not bothering to leave behind my key or the rest of the rent money. The landlord could figure it out on his own. I had to get to the airport. I ran out into the street and waved my free hand at the nearest approaching cab. He honked his horn and nearly hit me, pulling to the side at the last possible second.  

He yelled at me in some foreign language, then took one look at my luggage and pulled off in the direction of the airport. I sat back in my seat and tried to think of anything but what I was doing. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears and I felt like I was going to hurl. Maybe I was feeling the effects of the beers after all. Before I had time to really get comfortable we were pulling up to the airport. I shoved a handful of bills at the cabbie and he smiled and took the cash, which was probably much, much more than it really cost and I climbed out of the car. 

I ran through the airport until I got to the empty desk with a very bored looking woman sitting behind it. 

“I’d like one ticket for the next flight to London,” I told her, shoving what was left of my money at her and drumming my fingers against the counter impatiently. 

“Round trip or one way?” she asked, typing something on her computer. 

“One way,” I said confidently. She looked up at the sudden change to my voice and smiled lightly. 

“Going home to your family or girl?” she asked, hitting one button extra hard and then holding her hand out as a sheet of paper emerged from a little slot in the counter. 

“Something like that,” I grinned. “More like I’m going home for them.” 

“Oh,” she said, eyeing me questioningly. “All right then. Here you go. Your flight leaves in thirty minutes.” 

I thanked her and took my ticket, placing my two boxes onto the counter so that she could check them through security.  


Yeah, you can tell me all your thoughts
About the stars that fill polluted skies
And show me where you run to
When no one's left to take your side
But don't tell me where the road ends
'Cause I just don't wanna know,
No I don't wanna know 



Thirty minutes later I was sitting at the back of a plane, my fingers drumming anxiously against the armrests of my seat. I had a seat next to the window and I looked up into the sky again. Tonight I would be closer to them that I had been in a long time. Tonight they would see me doing the right thing. They would be proud. At least, I hoped they would.  

I gazed up at the nearly full moon, and suddenly I saw it. James and Lily were standing on the surface, hand and hand, just as I’d pictured them. Lily’s long red hair was flapping lightly in whatever wind was up there and James’s hair was still sticking up at an odd angle. They wore the same clothes I had last seen them in and they were both smiling down at me. 

“Lily?” I breathed, pressing my face right up against the tiny window. “James?”  

I saw them nod at me and smile. 

“We’re proud of you mate,” James said. 

“We love you, Remus,” Lily added. “Please look after Harry for us as best you can. He will need your help I think.” 

“I will,” I breathed, clawing at the window as if it would open up and I could fly out and join them.  

“Thank you, my brother,” James said. They both waved and then they started to fade. 

“No!” I cried out. “Don’t go yet! I need to ask you something! Don’t go!” 

They were fading faster and faster, still waving. “Lily! James!” I banged against the window frantically. “Come back!” 

They were gone. 

“Sir! Sir! We’ve landed in Heathrow. You have to exit the plane now.” 

I was shaken awake by a particularly pretty flight attendant. She looked at me with concern, obviously thinking that I was crazy.  

“Right, thank you,” I said, standing up and pretending that nothing had happened. I was still feeling severely disconcerted. Had it really all just been a dream?  


Don't tell me if I'm dying
Don't tell me if I'm dying
Don't tell me if I'm dying 



I stepped out into the pink light of early morning London. The smog was heavy and it was misting already. It was good to be back. I felt much more at peace here. The pounding of my heart had substantially subsided and my hands rested comfortably in my pockets. I had done the right thing. I had a long road ahead of me, one that was probably bloody and fraught with unemployment, poverty, and homelessness. It would be worth it in the end though. It had to be. 

Why else would my guardian angels have sent me back? 







 
A/N: So this is my first attempt at a song fic? What did you guys think? Please leave me a review and tell me. I got the inspiration for this fic at about 2 am last night, while I was listening to this song. Please review! Thanks for reading! 


Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for the plot. All the characters belong to the fantastic JK Rowling, and the song lyrics are from the song "Angels on the Moon" by Thriving Ivory.




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