The Effigy: Chapter Five
5.
Some hours later, just before dawn, three shrouded figures stood behind some rubbish bins in a dark and crooked back-alley in Knockturn and waited for the turn of time. At the preordained moment, a cool blue fire suddenly sprang up from the ashes of the magical figure at their feet and blazed into a bonfire, tall as a man.
Two of the figures were much of a height and the third was a bit smaller. One of the taller figures held the smaller one for a very long time in the blue firelight and the darkness, and perhaps, amongst the shadows, many last kisses were exchanged. The pair broke apart and then the two like figures came together, standing just apart from one another for a time, and then finally blending into a brief embrace.
“This is it,” Sirius was saying to the effigy. “This is the moment I’ve brought you to in the end. My ‘gift’ to you. Mortality. I wish I’d never even thought of this spell!”
The effigy put his hands on Sirius’ face and tried to smooth the troubled, guilt-stricken frown off his features. “No, no, don’t do that,” he protested.
“Don’t do what?” Sirius answered. “Don’t tell you how sorry I am for this awful mistake? Don’t tell you how much I regret all my abysmal bungling?”
“Don’t downplay your gift to me. Life, Sirius. You gave me a life. And a good one, too. I’ve never been afraid. I’ve never hurt. I’ve never known evil and my heart’s never been broken. Can you say the same?”
“And now it’s over,” Sirius countered, dodging the question. “Eleven hours! Some life!”
“Eleven perfect hours. I think life might not be life at all if it had no end.”
Remus, listening to this final exchange between the created and the creator, asked himself the question the effigy had raised. What would life be if there was no end? What was it, exactly, that made the people one loved so very precious?
“I’m still sorry,” Sirius was saying softly to the effigy, once more holding him tight.
“And I’m still grateful,” the effigy replied, squeezing back. Then he released Sirius and stepped back a pace, and then turned toward the fire.
He gazed, for a moment, into the blue depths of the magical fire from which he had originally come. A sort of a doorway that, Remus was thinking, everyone living must eventually find and move through on his or her own.
The effigy smiled in the blue firelight. “What do you think, mates?” he asked. “Do you think it’ll just be ‘poof’ - and that’s it? Or do you think maybe there’s some mystery still to be unraveled in there for me? Am I real enough for something after?”
You’re real enough, Remus thought, remembering the first words the effigy had spoken to him, remembering the living reality of the effigy’s body in his hands. But he found that he could not open his throat enough to say this aloud. Sirius too, he saw, also could not bear to try to answer.
“Good-bye, Sirius,” the effigy said. Then he turned his face to Remus, one last time.
“Good-bye, Moony. I love you.”
He turned toward the fire once more, and then, without any hesitation, deliberately stepped into the very center of it. Remus could see no trace of fear on his face among the flames, none at all. Some expression did cross his familiar features for a moment, as though he had just spotted something in the flames that Remus could not see, but Remus could not quite interpret its meaning; it could have been surprise, or anticipation, or relief, or even, possibly, discovery. But before Remus could make up his mind about what he’d seen, the blue bonfire blazed up, so bright it almost seemed to go white, and then whooshed inward all at once, collapsing in on itself. There was a final loud pop, and then the fire, the light, and the effigy himself were all gone, as though they had never been.
Smoke and mirrors…
A deep, desolate groan wrenched itself out of Remus’ very guts, and he stumbled forward toward the empty space where the fire had been, hands outstretched and seeking. But then he felt the warm and solid touch of hands on him - the firm pressure of Sirius’ hand on his shoulder, Sirius’ restraining arm around his waist.
“Ah, no, Moony…” he heard Sirius murmuring to him, voice small and broken. “No, you mustn’t. Don’t. He’s gone.”
Gone where? Remus heard his own mind asking silently, desperately. Gone where? Gone where?
But there was no answer. There never is.
Remus blindly reached out and grasped at Sirius, pulling him close and crushing him in his arms, close against his own body. Remus held on to Sirius for what seemed forever, held onto him for dear life.
“I’m here,” whispered Sirius, doing what he could to ease Remus, offering whatever comfort there was. “I’m here, I’m still here, it’s all right, I’m here.”
Remus held on, and, in time, he began to hear what Sirius was telling him, and finally, he began to believe it. Slowly, he relaxed enough to ease his death-grip on Sirius, and they both slid apart by a small fraction. Only enough to breathe, really, neither of them were willing, just yet, to completely let go.
“Did you … did you see that look on his face?” Remus asked Sirius at last. “Just before the … just before? What was it? Do you think he saw … something?”
“I hope he did …” Sirius mumbled. “I’d like to think he could have.”
“I think he did,” Remus finally decided aloud.
They were silent again for a time, and then Sirius sighed deeply.
“I’ll never cast this spell again,” he said.
Remus nodded. “Good,” he said.
After a moment or two more, Sirius put his arm around Remus’ shoulders and squeezed, lightly.
“All right, then,” he said, softly. “All right. Let’s go home, Moony.”
Story Continues