The Scarred Professor
As she entered through the heavy oak doors of the Great Hall with Dean by her side, Mary struggled to shake the feeling that the castle was familiar to her, that it was somewhere she had spent lots of time.
“Okay Deano, who are we seeing first?” Mary gave her son’s hair a fond ruffle as she took in the many students and parents darting around the grand space, mingling in the middle and ambling between the tables around the edges of the room where teachers were stationed.
“First off,” Dean consulted the scrap of paper in his hand, “We’re off to see my Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Professor Lupin.” He grinned at this, “He’s my favourite.” Mary smiled back, happy to see her son so settled in this strange place which made her feel completely unsettled yet totally at home all at once.
As they approached Professor Lupin’s desk, Mary saw a man with a mop of tawny hair leant over his stack of papers. His grey cardigan was frayed at the edges and his hands were covered in a criss-cross of silver scars. She felt a sudden jolt in her stomach, shaking her whole being as the man looked up, and Mary’s eyes met his, they were full of sadness, unhealed wounds and the haunted look of a man who had stood on the edge of hell, stared into its deep shadows, tasted its sharp flames and barely made it back.
Suddenly she remembered.
Breaking down and sobbing into his arms, nights filled with grief and days filled with fear. An enemy that took and took and took until they had nothing left of themselves to salvage. Burying their friends, one after the other. Suspicion and distrust lacing every interaction. The people she had once laughed with dropping like flies. Because they once had laughed. Before the lies and betrayal, before the war had stripped them of themselves, they had had each other.
Mary remembered late nights drinking round the fire in Gryffindor tower, summer camping trips and last-minute study sessions. She remembered the love that had filled her life.
Before she knew it, Mary had raced across the hall and flung herself at the scarred Professor. Her Remus.
He stood up to meet her, a bitter smile full of pain and sorrow painting his face. Tentatively, he reciprocated, his arms coming up to circle her.
“Mary,” he whispered softly, “I didn’t know if you’d remember.” His voice sounded choked, and Mary realised that her face was wet, and when she raised a hand to cup Remus’ face, his was too.
“I- I didn’t,” she gasped, the sudden rush of memories flooding her senses, “Lily, and James- Mary, Marlene, Dorcas, P-Peter and Sirius, oh Sirius-“ Remus stroked her hair as she became overwhelmed yet again, they had lost so much.
“Look, Mary, I have to speak to other parents tonight, and I’m sure you have other teachers to see too, but how about we meet somewhere later tonight – I take it you’ll be staying in Hogsmeade?” Remus asked gently as he eventually disentangled himself from the her shaking arms.
“Um- uh yeah. The Three Broomsticks, I don’t know if you’ve heard of it?” the air was stuffy and claustrophobic around her. Remus chuckled softly to himself.
“I know it. I’ll see you there at nine, okay?”
~
That evening found two friends reunited in front of a roaring fire, cheeks rosy and butterbeers in hand. They shared memories of what they had had and of what they had lost. They laughed until they cried and they sat there together until their eyelids grew heavy.
Mary caught Remus up on the past 12 years of her life, on her ordinary job and her ordinary family in their ordinary house and in return Remus told her of his ordinary flat and his ordinary partner.
Though their lives had become ordinary, Mary took joy in the knowledge that once upon a time, they had been extraordinary.
As they parted ways with a watery hug and promises to write to one another, Mary gave Remus one final, slightly tipsy admission,
“For the last twelve years I’ve always felt like there was something missing, like I’ve had this ghost sitting on my shoulder. And I know now that I’ve lost so much, we both have, so many people that we loved. But that ghost, I think it’s her, I think it’s the Mary you talk about, the girl I used to be. So thank you Remus, you’ve come back to me, and you’ve brought them all back to me, and you’ve brought her too. When I decided to obliviate myself I think it’s because I felt empty, I didn’t know what to do with all that loss. But now I’ve had my fair share of ordinary, and the loss has become something I’ve gained, I finally feel full again. So thank you Remus. Thank you.”
Remus smiled warmly at her, and Mary knew she had found her missing pieces.