A/N: This was my attempt at writing something short for a change.
Set shortly before Book Three.

Dedicated to Seej, my inspiration, and Jammy, my friends and sister.









Back Again

It’s raining.
I am standing alone on a dreary street corner with nothing but the clothes on my back and the suitcase next to me.
And it’s raining.
It is at moments like this that I wish I could be home. Not the place I live—used to live, since I was evicted from my apartment yesterday—but the place where I felt safe and loved. It has been fifteen years since I last saw it, but Hogwarts was, is, and always will be my home.
I miss it.
And sometimes, I wonder how it could have been different.
If only James had not been murdered. If only Sirius was not in Azkaban. If only Peter was not dead.
If only.
There are no ‘if onlys’ or ‘what ifs’ in life, only the reality of what cannot be changed.
I know this, and yet, sometimes, I wonder.
Would I be so desolate if my friends were still beside me? Would I, last of the Marauders, still feel so alone?
I don’t know.
The rain falls hard, and I have no place to go. I would like to go home, but do I deserve it? Fifteen years, and all I have to show for it is exactly what I left with. Three Sickles and five Knuts, just enough for the ticket. The suitcase James gave me, the sweater Lily bought, the quill that was Peter’s parting gift, and the book from Sirius. I have sold all my other books, but not this one. It is the one thing I have left of the Marauders. A copy of Hogwarts, A History, signed by my friends.
And I wonder. I wonder of what may have been, and I think of what is.
Harry.
I have only seen him once, but he always holds a place in my heart. He is James’s son.
And I wish I could see him now, if only for a moment, and tell him how sorry I am he grew up without his father.
Something flies overhead, and I look up.
It is a bird, an owl.
A school owl.
I know it. I don’t know how, but I know it.
It circles and finally lands on my suitcase. I reach over and untie the letter from its leg.
I was right. The familiar crest of Hogwarts is clearly impressed into the wax seal.
I turn the letter over. It is for me.
The rain splatters over the green ink letters, but they have been magically enchanted not to run.
There is only one line. The name of the addressee.
And as I read it, I know I am going back home again.
Professor Remus J. Lupin












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