Christopher Barley
Christopher Barley became Clive Durham.
Literally.
Christopher Barley was in his4th year when he first read this book named Maurice by E.M. Forster. At the time, it was his tiny little secret—a book he would keep under his pillow, and stuffed deep into his drawer for no one to discover. Well, until Remus Lupin came along.
From then, he shared many of his ‘guilt’ books (as he called them) with Remus, and Christopher felt great. Finally, he knew he wasn’t weird or odd—that he wasn’t alone in what he was going through. As much as these books provided him with some sort of comfort, they could not compare with how much Remus Lupin had helped him, even if Remus might have done so unintentionally. Christopher wasn’t that stupid—he knew that Remus’ feelings were not reciprocal to his—but he couldn’t help himself from holding Remus dear to his heart. That was the least he could do to remember the boy, and to never forgive him.
Fast forward to about a decade after his marriage with Åsa, and a couple of years after the birth of his son, Henrik, Christopher was cleaning one of his drawers—his Hogwarts drawer, more specifically, full of items from his youth. After a couple of minutes of pulling out his old Hogwarts uniforms, old books and various random items, he stumbled upon Maurice by E.M. Forster. He stared at it for a good minute, before realizing he had been holding his breath since his eyes laid on his once-favorite book. Christopher let out the breath, and—thank God his wife was out with friends and his son sleeping—couldn’t hold back the tears. Book in hand and drawer open, Christopher Barley was sobbing his heart out on the floor of his bedroom.
That morning, he had stumbled upon Remus Lupin as he exited out of the sauna. Of course, Christopher had been shocked and ashamed, but was also… relieved? Glad? Despite the immediate fear, some warm feeling had spread in him as he observed—for the first time in years—the boy who Christopher had admired during all his years at Hogwarts. This encounter was actually the reason why Christopher was prompted to clean his Hogwarts drawer. Curiosity and nostalgia had gotten the best of him, and the next thing he knew, Christopher was seated on his bedroom floor going through memories of his life as a Hogwarts student—the best years of his life if anyone asked him.
Christopher revisited his encounter with Remus as he continued to sob on his bedroom floor. What had he done with his life? Why couldn’t he be brave like Remus? Why couldn’t he—had he done something wrong? But this was how everyone’s supposed to live, right?
Then, Christopher looked down at the book in his hands—this book that he was once cherished with the entirety of his broken and confused soul. His favorite character had always been Maurice—quite obviously—but, then, collapsed on his bedroom floor, Christopher made a realization. He remembered that, years ago, he promised himself that he would never become Clive, and that he would always try to be like Maurice. Whatever came his way, the young Christopher Barley made himself promise that he would never live a life in which he wouldn’t be himself. Now, however, the adult Christopher Barley realized that he betrayed his own self.
Christopher Barley never became Maurice Hall.
Christopher Barley became Clive Durham.
Remus Lupin was the one to become Maurice Hall. Or—at least—it seemed so.
Though, how was Christopher to complain? To any outsider, he had made it in life—he got a nice wife, a beautiful son, a high-paying job, a majestic mansion… What more could he ask for?
What more could I ask for?
Everything, he thought.
Yet, Christopher Barley had everything.
Somehow, though, Christopher Barley felt constantly empty.