I haven't written in here since everything happened. The things I usually write about seem so wrong. Hair? Break dancing? Paint brushes? My undying dislike of Quidditch? Yeah. -_
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You don't understand, but then I don't think you're supposed to. This is all new, for you.
But you sound so much like someone I once knew. So much, and he was brave and everything a Gryffindor ought to be, so you should be proud of that. I certainly was, to call him my friend.
I am so, so sorry for this.
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I'm sorry too. I guess we all are. No time to wallow around in that, though.
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That's the worst bit. That you mean them. You shouldn't have to.
But there we are, you do mean them.
My God.
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And I'm not your professor anymore, you know. Please, you can call me Remus.
It's no time for formalities anymore, anyway.
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I'm not naive. I know I might die. Seamus might. Harry might. Neville. Ron. But I'm not just going to wait for it, or hide, or hope for the best.
I guess times like these mean making a choice and standing by it. Finally and completely.
Sorry Remus. I keep forgetting.
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But you sound so much like someone I once knew. So much, and he was brave and everything a Gryffindor ought to be, so you should be proud of that. I certainly was, to call him my friend.
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Thank you. Since you're using past tense, I guess he didn't live to see this all happening again, did he?
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No, he did not. Neither did his lovely wife. Though they left us a rather brilliant heirloom.
Their fate, however, does not have to be yours. They were betrayed. You will be careful.
Please, be careful.
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I'll be careful.
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Good boy.
My, I love a good discussion of a dire subject before bed, don't you?
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'Night, Remus. Sleep well. I know I'll try to.
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Good night. Pleasant dreams, if you find any.
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