Julian had been one of the first people she had met at the French Ministry. He worked for their own international relations department, and had embraced her on arrival.
“But you are so pretty!” he had exclaimed, kissing her on each cheek and speaking English with a strong but charming accent.
“Bonjour,” she said, smiling. If everyone was this friendly maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as she thought.
“Ah, none of that with me, you may speak your little language to the heart’s content! My mother, you see, was from the Scotland, so I speak very well.”
“You do, it’s very impressive.”
“I live to impress. It’s why I am so good at my job, you see? Your talent, I am sure, is that you are so pretty.”
Marty pursed her lips, thought of McGonagall, and tried not to laugh.
“There’s more to women than being pretty, you know. I am also charming and doggedly persuasive.”
“You are never a dog!” he insisted, looking surprised. “You are a butterfly!”
“Uh, thanks, although that’s not actually what I meant.”
He barrelled on regardless, either not listening or not caring. “Shall I introduce you to the boss? She love to meet you. Julian, she says, for that is me, I love to meet this English miss as soon as she come!”
“I’d like to meet her too.”
“Fantastic! You follow me, and I will also take you to your hotel. Now, tell me, I am hearing rumours that there is a man causing a big riot in the Britain, is this true?”
She had trusted him. They got on so well that she found herself thinking that she might even enjoy her time abroad if, every time she returned to France as her main base, she got to spend time with Julian. It was as if he filled the role of all her friends at once since she had left them behind. He could make her laugh like James and Sirius, listen to her and help with her problems like Lily, and like Peter, he would do anything she asked loyally and without question, smiling all the way. And at times, through his almost constant flirting and compliments, it was almost as though he filled Remus’s role as well.
One night, after she had been away from Britain for a few months and she had returned to Paris after six weeks of foreign travel, she was particularly homesick. She had received the photo of Harry, and wished she could see him in the flesh, give Lily a hug and a bunch of flowers, congratulate James and watch Sirius pretend he wasn’t emotional. But she couldn’t. So Julian took her out to a bar where, after a couple of drinks, she told him the basics of what she had missed.
“My best friend had a baby,” she said sadly. “And I don’t know when I’ll ever be able to see him. He might be a teenager, or an adult. I certainly won’t see him as a baby.”
“You cannot go home at all? It is easy! I speak to the boss, she sort it out. You see the baby, the mother, everyone is happy. That is, everyone except me. I miss my little butterfly when she goes flying away. But it is okay if she is happy.”
She shook her head. “No. I can’t. You know I can’t go back. It’s too dangerous.”
“But just for a week.”
“No. Not ever. It’s impossible.” And then, to her horror, she had started to cry.
“No!” he had soothed, switching seats so he was not opposite her, but next to her, and taking her in his arms. “You must stop. You are not to cry any more. It makes me too sad to watch someone so beautiful look so upset.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, pulling away and wiping her eyes. “I don’t want to make you sad.”
“Ah, but you do my little butterfly. I am sad every time you go away.” He reached out and wiped away her tears, just as Remus had done in the past. She missed him. She wanted to go home.
Julian leaned in and kissed her. And for half a second she almost kissed him back. But then she broke away.
“No! Julian, no, I’m so sorry. I should have told you. I already have someone, someone I love very much.”
“But he is not here. He does not come with you, you do not see him. How can you know you still love him? He still loves you?”
“I do,” she insisted. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry if I led you on in any way because I didn’t mean to. At all.”
He sighed, but smiled. “It is okay. I had suspected. Someone as lovely as you could never be alone, I am sure of it. Still, I think why not try, just in case?”
“I’m flattered, I am, but I’m sorry.”
“You must not apologise. Only if you ever change your mind, I am always here.”
“Thank you. That’s nice to know. But I don’t think I will. And, you know what? It’s late. I should go. I’ve got work to do before I leave again.”
“Of course, you must always fly away again. But why do you not stay at mine tonight?”
“Julian, I just told you ...”
“No, I do not mean in this way, although it would be nice, I am sure. But for the company. You are sad tonight, you should not be in that hotel on your own when you are sad.”
Eventually“mostly with the promise of an English breakfast the way his mother taught him in the morning“he persuaded her to stay in his room for the night, while he slept on the sofa in the sitting room.
She liked the feeling of having another person in the same flat. It was comforting, although she would never betray Remus“and besides, if it wasn’t for Remus she still wouldn’t have liked him in that way. Maybe she would have gone on a few dates with him, but she knew it wouldn’t have worked out. They didn’t fit together so perfectly as she and Remus had done, and she would have been constantly aware of it.
In the morning, she woke early, but it was the weekend, so she left him to sleep. Instead, she entertained herself by practising her French with the titles on his bookshelves.
That is, until she started to notice a pattern, and read some of them more closely. It was hard, and her translation skills weren’t perfect, but by the time he woke up she had a good idea of what was going on.
She just wished she hadn’t.
“My little butterfly!” he exclaimed. “How are you feeling?”
“Julian,” she said slowly, dreading his answer and praying that he could explain it away easily. “What are these?”
His expression darkened for a moment, but he smiled again. “They are books, silly! Now, I think I promised a breakfast, yes?”
“What are they about, Julian? Are they what I think they are?”
“They are nothing! I do not know what happens in your pretty head.”
“I’m serious! This is serious. These are about blood, aren’t they? Magical blood. Purifying it. Just like people in Britain want to do. The ones who have killed people I know. Good, innocent people.”
“I am not wanting to kill people!” he cried. “You do not understand. When we have children with the Muggles, it is bad. It makes problems. And the children with the Muggle parents, they are different. They have their own needs. I do not kill people.”
Marty put her head in her hands. She couldn’t believe this was happening. “You’re wrong,” she said. “Don’t you see? This is how it starts. You believe all that rubbish, and then you want to do something about it. And maybe not you, but someone will take it too far. Start thinking they’re not human, they need to be wiped out. And people die, innocent people. For nothing. It’s all lies, can’t you see that?”
Julian shook his head. “No, no, you are wrong, it is different. We are not your Death Eaters, we cause no harm. Not unless others cause harm first.”
“Oh, no. Oh, Merlin, no. Not a ‘we’. Don’t tell me there’s a group of you.”
“Marty, you have this all wrong. We only want magic blood, pure magic blood, to be preserved. It is an ancient thing, it should not be tainted.”
“Tainted? Just listen to yourself! This is wrong. It will only lead to people being killed.”
“But it will not! We learn from your Death Eaters, we do things different! We do not make people fear us, we make them see that it is for the great good! You must not worry.”
“Oh, it gets worse!” she exclaimed, standing up and running her hands through her hair. “I have to go. I can’t let you do this.”
Before she could reach the door, he leapt in front of her and pulled out his wand.
“I am sorry, my little butterfly, but you must not leave if you are to tell someone your fears. They will not understand yet, they think like you, that we want to take France the same place as Britain. I do not want to hurt you.”
“Hurt me?” she shrieked, beginning to grow hysterical with fear and panic. “I thought you weren’t going to hurt anyone!”
“Not unless they hurt us first. You going to the boss or to the law“this hurts us.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you. But I can’t stand by and let this happen again. You have to see that.”
“I do not.”
They both moved quickly. He shot a spell at her, but she ducked, pulled out her own wand, and sent a stunning spell at him. Then she tied him up, and Disapparated to the French Ministry. When she returned with nearly a dozen officials, he was awake.
“Marty,” he pleaded, struggling against his ropes. “Marty, my little butterfly. You do not know what you are doing! You are wrong! I have done nothing! I hurt no one!”
She had looked away, brushing the tears from her eyes. She hated it. Hated that people could let those ideas pollute them like that. That they had to pollute what felt like her only friend. That now she really was alone. She cried as she listened to them take him away.
It was from then on that she refused to stay in one place longer than a couple of weeks. She couldn’t allow herself to be close to anyone. She had to be alone. Anything else was far too dangerous.
“I don’t understand it, Dumbledore,” Marty confessed, visiting her old headmaster for the first time since coming home. “It’s been a week, and he still won’t talk to me. The funeral’s tomorrow. I mentioned it yesterday and he just got up and walked out. I was starting to wonder whether he’d ever come back.”
Dumbledore smiled at her sadly. “You have to understand, he’s not like you. He’s lost everything.”
“So have I! They were my friends too.”
He shook his head. “Your Aunt, little Linden. You still have family. When his parents died, he had no relatives to support him as you did.”
Marty’s heart wrenched. The death of Mr and Mrs Lupin had been something else she had missed while she was away. She wished she could have been there for him. She wished she could have seen them one last time, or at least gone to their funeral. They hadn’t even been her family, but since sixth year they had always felt like it.
“He still has me,” she insisted. “If I’m all he has left, why would he insist on pushing me away?”
“Perhaps he feels it would be easier than watching you leave him by choice.”
Marty, for a moment, was stunned into silence. “I... I’m not going to leave him.”
“Is that so?” he replied conversationally, as if they were discussing that season’s most fashionable cloak colour.
“I’m not!” she insisted again.
“Very well. Tell me, how have you felt since returning home?”
“I“well. It’s been hard. Of course it has. I loved James and Lily. I loved Peter. Sirius“well, I still can’t understand that. But it has been good to see my family again. I missed them.”
“And Remus? Has it been good to see him?”
“It“well... At first, of course it was. I needed him so many times while I was away, but I couldn’t reach him. Seeing him there in the flesh... it was good.”
“And did he live up to your expectations?”
Marty paused. Her heart was beating too fast but she took a deep breath. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you needed him. I’m sure you still do. Has he been the help you thought he would be?”
Marty closed her eyes, folded her arms. “You know the answer to that. I just said he’s not spoken to me for a week. You know, I heard him speaking to Garfield of all people, but he can’t speak to me. And I have tried.”
“I don’t doubt it. Tell me, Marty, what is it that you want?”
“What do you mean?”
“It must have occurred to you. What do you want to happen now? With your life, with the future?”
“I want Remus to speak to me again.”
“Naturally. But your career? Your life? I am sure you could regain your old position at the Ministry; they need as many on board as they can get. You could help to renovate your family’s café now that they are free from danger. And, I am sure, you could always continue your work abroad if you wished.”
“But“Voldemort’s dead.”
“Possibly. I was referring, of course, to your other work“the more official travel and diplomacy.”
“Oh. Well, I suppose I did enjoy travelling, when I wasn’t worrying about what was happening here. I constantly wanted to come home and see the people I loved but sometimes... sometimes I would look out of the window of a completely new place and it was like being free.”
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. “Free from what exactly?”
“I... I don’t know. Going to the same place every day, seeing the same people for the rest of my life, it all sounds so... it’s like being trapped. But it doesn’t matter anyway. Remus wouldn’t come with me, and I can’t leave him again. Besides, I’d miss my family too much.”
“It’s true, you would leave things behind. However, you would this time, of course, be perfectly able to return at your leisure, and keep up as many regular correspondences as you wish.”
“Professor, forgive me, but“it sounds like you want me to leave Remus behind.”
“That is not true. But you must remember, life is too short to be unnecessarily unhappy. And if it is your commitment to Remus which is making you unhappy, then that cannot be a fact which is ignored forever.”
Marty nodded, a million thoughts endlessly filling her mind. She stood. “Thank you, Professor Dumbledore. I assume I’ll see you tomorrow at Godric’s Hollow?”
Dumbledore inclined his head in respectful confirmation. As she was about to leave the office, he said, “You know, Marty, you are now perfectly at your leisure to refer to me as Albus.”
“Sure, Professor,” she agreed, smiling slightly. “Whatever you say.”
“Marty,” Tabby said, coming up to her amongst the other mourners after the funeral. They had invited people back to Garfield’s house and the air was sombre, but for some also hopeful. After all, Voldemort was gone“for many this would be the last funeral they would have to attend for quite some time. Thankfully, they still kept their distance from those who had loved Lily and James most of all.
“Yes?”
“How are you, sweetheart? It’s just that all day you’ve seemed... distant.”
Marty raised her eyebrows, but without her usual humour.
“Well, of course, given the occasion, but I was wondering if it was something more. Ever since you came back from visiting Dumbeldore, you’ve barely said two words to anyone. In fact, the only person I’ve seen you really engage with is Linden.”
Marty said nothing. She didn’t want to admit that the naivety of a four-year-old was preferable company to adults who were fully aware of everything that had happened to her.
“I was just wondering... what are your plans now?”
When this question was met with silence, Tabby continued. “Of course, you should absolutely take a few more weeks to get back on your feet. But do you think you’ll stay in Britain now that it’s safe again? I’m sure you could get your old job back easily.”
Marty shrugged.
“But if you don’t want to go back to working for the Ministry, I do have an idea. Linden’s started school now, so I’m a little freer to start working again. And Taffy’s never went bankrupt, so technically I still own that entire building, and it’s just sitting there. Now, I don’t have time to run it myself... but I would love to open it again anyway. And I was thinking, if you wanted... you could manage it. We would be partners, of course, and I would still help out, but you could essentially be in charge. You’ve got more than enough experience and I’d always be on hand if you needed advice. And... I know you’ve never liked staying in this house. I know the café is still your home. So you could live in the flat above it with Remus if you liked. You wouldn’t have to pay the rent of your other place, and it’s a lot bigger. And, you know, I don’t think it’s doing him any good staying there. Just like it’s not doing you any good being here. You need to be together, love.”
“Well, try telling him that,” Marty muttered, and then immediately wished she could take it back. Tabby didn’t need to hear about her relationship troubles.
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing.”
“I know things have been difficult...”
“He doesn’t speak to me, Aunt Tabby! He’s barely said two words to me since I’ve come back! Why do you think I’ve been spending so much time in this house if you know that I hate it? It’s because I’d rather be with my family in a house I hate than with a... a stranger in the flat I used to share with the man I loved!”
“Remus will never be a stranger to you, sweetheart. It’s hard for him.”
“And it’s not hard for me too? I needed him for over a year, but I had to do without because I was on an incredibly top secret mission and to see him would put us both in danger. Now that doesn’t matter anymore, but I still have to do without. And why? As far as I can tell, no reason at all.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you want to do?”
“At the minute... I want to travel again. I’ll keep in touch and I’ll come back as often as I can. But I want a new start... somewhere away from here.”
“And Remus?”
Marty shrugged. “If he’s prepared to come with me, then fine. But I won’t be tied down be him if he’s just going to slowly self-destruct.”
Aunt Tabby stared at her, deep in thought. She could see her niece’s pain, and she wished there was a way to take it away. Unfortunately, the best thing she could do was give her some advice.
“Give him one more chance before you decide anything. Try to get him in something resembling a good mood, and then tell him exactly how you feel, and exactly what you want to do. Then give him the choice. And... and don’t leave yet. We’ve only just got you home.”
Marty nodded, and they hugged. But her mind was suddenly a thousand miles away.
Remus knew he was ruining all his chances of happiness by refusing to interact with Marty. But he couldn’t help it. It was like he was trapped in this awful void of pain and suffering and he couldn’t find his way out, no matter what he did. And Marty was like this light, this beautiful, burning light, but all he could do was turn away from it. He didn’t deserve light“just like she didn’t deserve a pathetic part-human like him. He’d always known it, deep down, but when she’d left, it had become more apparent than ever. When she’d returned, he had watched her slowly wither into this kind of shell. And he knew it was because of him. She needed to be free, and he could never give her that, and so she was disappearing. He wished he had the strength to cut her free, but he couldn’t do it. He was weak and pathetic and he couldn’t be the one to officially end whatever it was they still had. Besides, she would never be free unless it was her choice to leave.
And leave she would. He knew it as surely as he knew that he would never again find someone he loved in the same way that he loved her. The signs were all there. When she had first come back, although she had made a point of coming to their flat every day, she hadn’t moved back in. She told him in one of her prattling monologues intended to fill the silence, that it was because she needed to clean and tidy the flat into a “liveable state” first. She had even asked him to come back with her to Garfield’s house and stay with her there, but he knew she didn’t really want him to say yes. And so he hadn’t.
And ever since the funeral, she had been coming less and less. The desperate stream of chatter was more half-hearted, and she only ever stayed for about half an hour, cleaning and organising another section of the flat and then leaving again. She told him it was because she was also refurbishing the café, because Tabby was thinking of reopening it, and so she thought she would help her out while she had nothing else to do. He wondered what would happen when their flat was completely clean again and she had no excuse not to move back in. Would she think of some other reason, or would that be the day she severed their ties for good?
But still. Even though her visits got shorter each time, and he continued not to say a single word to her, he still looked forward to them endlessly. He spent each morning waiting in anticipation to hear her key in the door, just because turning from the light was better than having no light at all. And when she left, he spent the rest of the day in a pit of despair, hating himself for causing the hurt look in her eyes every time she greeted him anxiously, hoping he would at least greet her back. He never did.
One day, around two weeks after the funeral, she came much earlier than usual. In fact, as it was ten o’clock in the morning, he hadn’t even gotten out of bed yet.
“Right,” she said, storming into the room. “That’s it. Out. If you refuse to talk to me, you won’t be able to protest. And if you can’t protest, I can pretty much do whatever the hell I like. I thought after knowing me for so long, you would have realised that, but apparently none of my lectures ever sank in and now you’re going to pay for it. So get in the bloody shower.”
He stared at her. The light was brighter than ever. Instead of ebbing away, it seemed to have come back in full force. He didn’t want to turn away any more.
“Is this a freak show? Stop staring at me and get in the shower! It was an order, not a request. And here, use all of these appropriately. I don’t want you out of that thing for at least fifteen minutes, so I know you’ve done it properly.” And she thrust several bottles of hygiene potions towards him. “Well? What are you waiting for? Am I going to have to drag you out of bed myself?”
He shook his head, took the bottles, and headed into the bathroom, glancing over his shoulder as he went. He didn’t know what had happened to her, but it was as if something about her new drill-sergeant attitude had given him just the tiniest bit of hope. Maybe she wouldn’t give up on him after all.
Exactly fifteen minutes later, he emerged, and she had laid out fresh robes on his bed, and apparently used the opportunity to clean the bedroom“which he knew was the final room she had to do. Once he had dressed, he began to smell bacon, and wandered into the kitchen just as she served up two full English breakfasts.
“Sit down and eat yours. All of it. You’ve neglected yourself for too long now and you’ve got a long day ahead of you.”
He looked into her eyes. He wanted to ask what she meant by that and she stared back at him, daring him to do so. Just to speak to her. One question wouldn’t kill him, surely?
He sat at the table and ate in silence, staring down at the food and refusing to look up again. He heard her sigh. She didn’t attempt to half-heartedly supply one side of a conversation, but the tension only grew stronger.
When they had both finished, she handed him his cloak and took his arm. He flinched at her touch“not because it repulsed him, but the opposite. It burned like fire, and he was unused to it. But though she must have noticed, she didn’t let go, just gripped his arm tighter. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them they were in a wood he didn’t recognise and she was already walking away from him. He stayed where he was and she turned around.
“Well, keep up. Do I have to tell you everything?”
He caught up with her, and she strode off again. It was November and all the trees had lost their leaves, but it was beautiful. It hadn’t rained recently and it was so cold that the ground was hard and the leaves crisp. The cold air was somehow fresh, and the brisk walk seemed to clear his head. And they didn’t walk in silence. Instead, she told him stories of her time away, describing at length the numerous places she had been and the people she had met. Some of it was beautiful, some of it was funny and some of it was incredibly sad. When she told him about a man named Julian, he had almost been jealous. But at hearing the sadness in her voice as she described the feeling of finding his pureblood literature, any feelings of bitterness went away, and he just wanted to comfort her. Without quite realising what he was doing, he took her hand. She jumped, and her words faltered for a moment, but then she just carried on talking. She seemed to know what a huge step it had been, and that she shouldn’t scare him off by making a big deal out of it.
After they had been walking for about an hour and a half, they came to a clearing and she stopped. He stopped too.
“Do you know where we are?” she asked. He looked around him. He had been almost in a trance, seeing the places Marty had been describing rather than their actual surroundings. But suddenly it hit him. He let go of her hand and turned away.
She walked around and stood directly in front of him. When he turned his head, she reached up, and forced it so that he was looking at her.
“Don’t just turn away from me. You have to face this. Now I’ll ask again. Do you know where we are?”
He nodded.
“Where?”
He shook his head.
“Where?”
He swallowed. And in the smallest voice he could manage, he said, “Graduation.”
She blinked. As much as she had wanted him to, she hadn’t really expected him to respond. “That’s right. Or, more specifically, Graduation night. And we went camping here. All six of us. Do you remember what we talked about?”
He couldn’t look at her any longer so he closed his eyes and pulled away. He felt her arms fall to her sides. “Don’t,” he mumbled.
“We talked about our future,” she said forcefully. “How we would defeat Voldemort once and for all, and then we would be happy no matter what. We would rebuild our lives and make ourselves be happy. No matter how many of us was left. Well guess what, Remus, it’s just you and me, and you don’t seem to want to keep your word.”
He opened his eyes and looked deep into hers. And then without realising quite what he was doing, he stepped towards her, closing the gap between them, placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her intensely. For a moment she seemed completely shocked, but then she gripped his waist and kissed him back. She had missed him. She had missed this.
After some time, he let go, and stepped back. They stared at each other, both looking scared and slightly breathless. Then she reached out her hand for him to take.
“It’s okay,” she said when he looked unsure. “I want to take you somewhere else. Away from here.”
He took her hand, but mostly just because he wanted to get away from the clearing. He didn’t like being around such strong memories of his friends. It was almost like he could feel them still here, at eighteen, sitting under the stars around a fire and talking about all the things they were going to do, their hearts full of hope and love. He couldn’t bear it much longer.
When he opened his eyes this time, they were indoors, and it was dark. Marty pulled out and waved her wand. Hundreds of lamps and candles lit up the room, and he recognised it as the café on Diagon Alley. Although the curtains across the windows were drawn, the place looked better than he had seen it in a long time. It retained the old, homely look of Tabby and Saffy’s era, but it was somehow newer, younger, more modern at the same time. Marty had kept true to her mother and her aunt, but she had also put something of herself into it.
“You’re not just helping Tabby refurbish. It’s yours.”
Marty looked torn for a moment, but then she shook her head. “No. She offered, and maybe one day I’ll take her up on it. But not yet. No... I’m going abroad again.”
Remus’s knees buckled. Marty flicked her wand and one of the comfortable armchairs shot towards him, just in time for him to collapse into it.
“I want some time to get away, Remus. I know that sounds crazy, I was away for so long. But I’ve not come back to the same world that I left behind. I need to start again somewhere completely new. I went into the Ministry today and they said they had a permanent post for me in Paris. But there’s no secret mission this time, and so I can write to my family and I can visit whenever I like. There are too many bad memories in Britain to just take my old life back. And even though I was miserable on my own last year, I enjoyed seeing the world. I liked just being out there. I was free. I’d never felt like that before. Do you understand?”
He understood. He’d known it all along. “You’re leaving me.”
She fell to her knees so that she was on his level in front of the chair, and took his hands. “No. I’m asking you to come with me. We can start again. But we can start again together. I love you, Remus. I’ve loved you since I was sixteen years old. Completely and terrifyingly and wonderfully in love with you. I would never want to lose you. What’s keeping you here? Just come with me and we can start afresh.”
He stood up and walked away from her. She turned around, still on the floor. On her knees.
“Please.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“You can.”
“No. You don’t need me tying you down. You can’t have a fresh start if I’m there for you to worry about. You don’t deserve that.”
“I’ll worry about you whether you come with me or not.”
“I’m sorry.”
She stood, and walked up behind him. She touched his shoulder and he turned to look at her.
“Think about it,” she said. “The Portkey leaves tomorrow at 6pm from Garfield’s house. Please meet me there. I love you.” And she reached up, kissed him on the cheek, and Disapparated. She knew there was nothing left she could do.
He was staring at the clock.
Miles away, so was she. She had her cousin on her lap but it wasn’t him she was waiting for.
At five fifty-seven he stood and tried to disappear but he couldn’t. Of course their house was still protected. Her aunt wasn’t stupid.
He dived for the fireplace. The pot of powder was empty. She had cleaned the mantelpiece but she hadn’t replaced the spillage.
He ran out of the flat, not even bothering to close the door. He ran downstairs and stuck out his arm, bounding onto the bus that appeared.
He shouted at the driver, who wouldn’t listen. He got his wand out and something in his eyes made the man make an exception just this once.
The bus appeared on the street and he got off, not even stopping to say thank you. He ran up the pavement and then up the path of the house. He banged on the door desperately and stood in agony as he waited for it to open.
“Am I too late?”
Her eyes softened with pity. “Oh, sweetie,” Tabby said, putting her arms around him. “I’m so sorry. She’s gone.”
Marty,
I’m sorry.
Whatever you do now, please be happy. For me.
But whatever happens, you don’t need to think about me anymore. And please don’t worry about me.
You’re beautiful.
Good luck.
Remus x