Memories of Flowers and Four Leaf Clovers
I throw myself on the couch, trying to ignore the fact that it is ripped and a spring is now digging into my back. I let my eyes wander the room, trying to ignore what Ive been thinking all day.
Its been nearly ten years. It doesnt seem nearly so long when you write it like that. When its only ten years, people tend to forget that its been eight thousand, six hundred and twenty-one hours. People forget that five hundred and seventeen thousand, two hundred and sixty minutes have passed. Seems much longer all of a sudden, doesnt it?
Ten years since what, you ask? Ten years since I lost two of my closest friends. Ten years since my best friend was thrown in jail. Ten years since Peter Pettigrew and a street-full of muggles were murdered. Ten years since I ran away. I guess the upside to all of that would be that its been ten years since the darkest wizard of all time disappeared. Yay for us.
I sound bitter. I dont want to sound bitter, truly I dont. But what can you expect? Ive spent ten years putting on a fake smile and a fake laugh and living a fake life. Its disgusting and I cant believe what Ive become. No one knows the real me, and theres actually a very good reason for that. Id never let them see it. Because letting someone into your life means trusting them and Ive long since given up on that. Life is a lot easier when you suspect everyone from your mother to the woman next door to be betraying you. Its also much lonelier, but there have to be some prices, right?
I get to my feet yawning. Its almost nine forty-five. I should be in bed. Its part of my routine. Ive been following this routine for nine years and Im quite proud of it. I get up every morning at six-thirty. Later than that and I might miss something important. Thats what I always tell myself. Im not so sure if its true or not but whatever I miss, I can always catch up on but if thats the case, why do I not want to miss anything? I always seem to tire myself out with these stupid questions. Questions that are completely rhetorical and yet, I want to know the answers to them. Absolutely ridiculous, isnt it? I want to know why theres so little gravity on the moon. I want to know why I cant fly. I want to know why I cant breathe underwater. Sure, you could come up with some sort of answer to each of those. Little gravity because its outer space. Cant fly because you dont have wings. Cant breath underwater because you dont have gills. But are those really the reasons? See there I go again.
I pull off my clothes, sliding an over-sized shirt over my head. I live in a one-bedroomed flat in the middle of New York City. Astounding where we end up, huh? I fall onto my tiny bed, staring around at the walls. It suddenly seems so plain. I remember when we were planning our house he said that I could run wild do whatever I wanted. What I wanted was lots of bright colours. Nothing would be dark in our house. Everything would be large and comforting and no one would ever have to be afraid. Wed raise our kids in a world that was free from fear and corruption and death. What children wed been then. Barely seventeen and struggling to get through school with good marks. Wed believed wed honestly believed that we could change the world. That people would care about what we had to say. Well we were wrong. No one gave a damn about what we had to say because they were all trying to stay alive.
Life is never what you expect it to be. I remember being twelve and wishing I could be an adult. And then I remember being fifteen and wishing I could be a child. How dumb that sounds as if I could have prevented growing up. How stupid I was. But life was so much easier when I was younger. When I didnt have to worry about getting a job, or passing my last year of school with Honours, or that I could lose anyone at any time.
Some children are blissfully ignorant about certain things and its sometimes for the better. I was actually one of those children. I didnt truly understand death until I was at least ten years old.
So, here I am Im past thirty and Im all alone. Boring, isnt it? Sad, even? In any case perhaps some more details would help you picture my pathetic little existence. I wasnt even twenty when Voldemort disappeared. Oh, not defeated, because I dont believe someone who caused all that pain all that hate all those deaths could just simply be defeated. It doesnt make sense. James and Lily Potter were two of the nicest people in the world and two of my closest friends. I just couldnt believe that they were gone. It couldnt make sense to me. How could they just be dead? How could that have happened? And Sirius God what had Voldemort done to make him tell?
Hed have died for James, I know he wouldve. He wouldnt have sold them out. He just wouldnt have done something like that.
Are you looking at me and nodding and saying that Im biased? Well, tough. I dont care. I cant help it. Sirius and
I grew up together and and
But it got worse. You must all know the stories. The reports. And Sirius my Sirius was thrown into Azkaban without a trial, even though hed have lost it anyway. The Ministry just wouldnt tolerate anyone who could possibly have any connection to the Dark Arts. Peter was allegedly killed, but I couldnt believe that. Sure, Sirius and Peter had never been the best of friends but he wouldnt have killed him. The Sirius I had known wouldnt have, anyway.
After that, it was just me and Remus left. For a while, I clung to him, in hopes that I could forget but how do you forget the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with? Yes a tiny detail that I did not mention. Sirius and I were engaged.
I couldnt seem to get back into reality. I couldnt get over James or Lily or Peter and day after day, I tried to convince myself that Sirius hadnt done it. I didnt even try fighting to keep little Harry. He was only a baby yet, he was the only reminder of my friends that I had. And yet, I couldnt. I felt unstable and the littlest thing set me off into fits of tears. He would be better of with whoever was capable of taking him, I was sure of it.
But Remus oh poor Remus. Hed fought so hard for his life for everything in it. Less than six months after the death of his friends, I left as well. How selfish was I? I think about him every day I wonder if his transformations are still painful. I wonder if he misses them as much as I do. I wonder if he misses me.
But I moved here and I changed my name and I started hunting out Death-Eaters who had fled from England.
Sure, the States had their own problems, but I wasnt concerned with them. Its a strangely satisfying job hunting down Death-Eaters and Dark Wizards. Its full of twist and turns and it takes forever but something about it is so good so right. For me, at least.
I pose as a muggle and if you saw me, youd never imagine me to have the job I do. Im not in the least bit intimidating (not even to a midget) and Ive always looked young for my age. Honestly when I was seven, people thought I was four. People suck. But, I digress. Staking out the evils of the modern world often required me nearly dying but as I have nothing to live for anyway, I am always standing right on the edge. I take unnecessary risks but the thing is Im damn good at what I do. The Ministry in England doesnt know my real name. They dont know where I came from. Theyve never heard me speak. They simply know me as Zoetic or Zoe. Its kind of fitting.
Its nearly eleven. My thoughts start drifting and as always I wonder. What would have happened if Sirius hadnt been Secret-Keeper? If James and Lily were still alive? If theyd never gotten married? If Id never met them? If Id never met Sirius? And on and on it stems until I reach the scariest one of all what if Voldemort had never existed? I like to pretend that we would all have lived happily ever after but I know thats just wishful thinking because if it hadnt been Lord Voldemort, it would have been some other dark wizard.
But what if that dark wizard had left us alone? a tiny voice in the back of my head whispers, threatening to drive me to tears.
I roll over and close my eyes, wishing it would stop the memories from flowing. Its been ten years and Im still alone. Maybe it was my fault. Maybe there was something I could have done. I cant let go of the fact that Sirius is still alive. Somewhere inside, I wish he would escape. Wish he would run away and find me and take me away and we could live together until the end of time. I know its just the romantic in me the child that wants that. Or maybe, its all of me that wants it just the child that dares to dream it will happen.
I was so shattered when it happened so broken that the only way I thought I could move on was to change everything to run away from everything Id ever known. And I did. I ran. But Im starting to think that perhaps just perhaps I should go back. Id love to see Remus again and Harry and Hogwarts I spent the best
seven years of my life there. Sure, parts of them were hard so hard I thought I would die but at the end of the day, they were the best years I have ever known.
Four years after he was arrested, I forced myself to start going out again. Forced myself to talk to other men to go out with other men to kiss other men and then I got so terrified that I refused to ever see them again. I thought I was losing my mind back then. Scared that I saw Sirius in my mind whenever they touched me. I just cant quite let go of him. He was in my life for so long that I cant remember a time when I didnt care about him.
And just because a person turns to the dark side, kills a few people and gets thrown in a jail cell for his troubles, doesnt mean you can stop caring about them. I used to think it was fading used to pray it was fading. Ive just learnt to accept it now. I wonder if he sees me in his dreams, like I see him in mine. But even if he did, theyd be horrible times. Like when his father died and the many times we fought and the time I nearly kissed someone else. All terrible memories. I wonder what else he sees. If he sees their ruined house or their bodies surely it must have hurt him. Surely he still had a heart the night they died. Please he must have had a heart when he told me he loved me. That was the night I was planning on telling him. But I got scared and figured Id just tell him the next day I had all the time in the world. I had forever.
Forever is a very short length of time.
I still care about him. I still believe that hes innocent, although no one knows that. Something inside just tells me that Sirius wouldnt have done that to me. Something inside me wants to believe that he loved me just as much as I loved him. Part of me wants to believe. Part of me needs to believe. I wish I were a child again. I wish I could curl up in my mothers lap and just have her hold me. I wish life were that easy. How could something thats supposed to be so sacred so pure hurt so much? Which leads me to another question does life naturally come with its pain or are we the ones who complicate it?
I push the thoughts away, chasing away the tears that I know wont come. And I close my eyes and pretend hes there beside me. Hell stroke my hair and hold me and tell me that he loves me and I dont want to open my eyes because then the spell would be broken and I would be alone. I wish I could fall asleep. I wish I could dream. I need to dream. Because suddenly life isnt easy anymore. Its tough and its hard and it hurts like hell and at the same time its as simple as flowers and four-leaf clovers.