There was No Point in Remembering

The cry of a child startled the woman out of her reverie. She turned from the window, where she had been contemplating.

"Mummy? Mummy! Where are you?!"

The woman entered her child's room.

"What happened, dear?" she crooned as she sat on the small bed. A white, scared face was visible in the moonlight.

"I had a bad dream..."

"Well, it's over now, sweetie." Siri had never known how to deal with her children's nightmares. She had never been a very imaginative person. Her nightmares consisted of not being able being able to make ends meet in her household. She had never dreamt anything like her daughter's long, fantastic dreams.

"Would you like to tell me about it?" the mother asked. The shaking, little figure then plunged into the story.

"Well, I was in this dark forest, and a bangee started chasing me and den..."

The woman smiled. Her second youngest child's nightmares always started off in a forest. At least, she wouldn't have to worry about Beth wandering off into the forbidden forest when she started at Hogwarts. She shouldn't be the one to talk about not going into the forest, though. When she had gone to Hogwarts...

"And den, Mummy? D'you know what happened? A big, black dog came towards me! At first I was scared but den he was nice and helped me but den he left and den..."

Siri froze. A big, black dog? She closed her eyes and saw, from her past, a big black dog, a rat and a deer moving across the grounds of- No, she shook her head. There was no point in remembering. Her daughter, Beth, was finishing.

"And den I woke up. I was so scared, Mummy..."

"It's alright, dear." Siri soothed. "It was only a bad dream. Would you like me to sit with you until you go back to sleep?" The child whimpered an affirmative noise.

As she sat in the small room, staring into the darkness, Siri thought about the dog Beth had dreamt about. It wasn't that unusual for children to dream about animals, why did it make her so uneasy? "Why do I ask?" Siri mumbled to herself. She knew perfectly well why it made her uneasy. It didn't mean anything to Beth though. She didn't know what her uncle was...well, no point in even thinking about it. Siri looked down at her now sleeping child. With her curly black hair and rosy cheeks she strongly resembled Siri's side of the family, not Roger's. The woman glanced up at the photograph on the wall. It showed a happily waving little girl who bore a remarkable resemblance to Beth. If she flipped the picture over she knew what would see on the back. She would see familiar handwriting saying:

Siria Elizabeth Black at the age of six

It had been a long time since she had born the name Black. She had been Siri Wilberforce years before the surname Black had any shame attached to it. Any shame indeed...she shook her head. What was the point in remembering? None. None at all. Siria heaved herself up from the bedside and resumed her place at the window, staring north, as though willing herself to see into the far distance.

It is many miles, even as the bird flies, from Siri's cosy house to the spot where her mind dwelt. A small house in the south of England can bear no comparison to this place. It is dark and cold, with wild waves crashing all around. At least, that is how it was when I was last there, and that is how I imagine it is still, if it still exists. It has no beauty, it is rock. Harsh, hard rock. Dreary, depressing rock. It is a place where happiness, joy, is not possible. A horrible place.

The same night that Siri stood at the window, a black dog was pacing the floor of a small stone cell. He was pacing in his own hell. He ravaged his mind for a kind memory but was incapable of recalling one. He was driven deeper and deeper into despair. As he curled up on the cold, stone floor unaware that many miles away a patient face had her thoughts turned towards him.

"Thank goodness there are clouds tonight." were the thoughts of one tired man who stood in the middle of a forest. He leaned against an oak, exhausted. That particular oak reminded him of...well, what was the point in remembering? His thoughts wandered back to the letter he had received earlier that day. He would be faced with even more memories if he accepted the post that was offered within the letter. But could he not accept?: Could he accept? Now was not the time for a moral conflict, he noted, as the clouds began clearing and moonlight became visible.

Siria turned from the window and began to head downstairs. She had to finish her assignment from work. At the top of the stairs, she noticed something disturbed her. There was a light underneath a door.

"Callie!" she called, "turn that light off and go to sleep!"

"Aww, Mum.." her oldest daughter replied. "I'm just at the good part.." Siri enter her daughter's room.

"Calandra Wilberforce. It's 10:30. You know you cannot be up this late reading. Especially when it's muggle books like that one." She did not notice the look of pain that crossed her daughter's face.

"I'm just at the part where he's racing to Rivendell with the Black Riders behind him. Can't I just finish the chapter?" Callie asked.

"No" her mother snapped. "You can finish it tomorrow. After you're done your History of Magic essay, of course."

"But Mum.."

"No." And with that Siri closed the door. Halfway down the hall, she paused. Rivendell? Black Riders? Where did she know those names from? She knocked on her daughter's door.

"Er, Callie?"

"Yes" a voice replied shortly.

"What're you reading again?"

"The Followship of the Ring. First part of the Lord of the Rings. By Tolkien. J R R Tolkien."

"Oh" Siria replied. "Thank you. Goodnight, sweetie."

"'Night Mum."

The Lord of the Rings. No wonder the names had seemed familiar. Two of her friends from Hogwarts had loved that book, they were muggle born. Lil and Gwen had read Tolkien books year after year and were constantly making references to it. They could remember every small detail from it.

She could almost hear Lily's voice saying, "Shame, shame, Rea. Not letting your daughter read Tolkien? How can you?"

Then she recalled Gwen's voice saying, "Y'know, Lily. I'm so glad that we don't have the kind of mother's who discourage us from reading. Wouldn't it be awful if we did?"

"Shut up" said Siri to the two voices that came from beyond the grave. "Fine. If that's the way you want it..." She stomped over to her daughter's door again.

"Callie? You can read for half an hour longer if you like. But no longer."

"Thanks Mum!" her daughter's glad voice cried.

As Siri walked down the hall, she asked, "Happy now?" to the silence.

Far away, a woman was holding a battered, old book in her hands. Its smell reminded her of times past, a time when the dog, the mother and the man in the forest had all been together. She sighed and placed the book on the night table. The electric light illuminated the title, The Fellowship of the Ring.

A/N: Some thank you's to certain people. Firstly, thank you to Andrew for patiently Beta reading this for me, and putting up with me shooting down all his ideas. And thank you to Sirius and Trinity Day and Qwyneth for reviewing all my stories. Thank you to Qwyneth for all the constructive advice she gave me. And thanks to all the other wonderful people who took the time to review... and by the way...review this part please...