"when you're gone, how can i even try to go on?"

*

"Pass the pepper?"

Eva mindlessly handed Remus the small shaker across the table, staring at her own bowl of tomato soup with a blank expression. He sighed, staring down at his own bowl as he sprinkled in too much pepper, but he ate anyway, barely tasting it. She hadn't even touched hers.

"Eva, you've got to eat," he said gently. His face was fresh with days-old scars and his worried eyes were like cold coffee.

She didn't say anything, just mixed her soup around the bowl with her spoon. They'd barley talked to each other at all in the last week. In fact, the most communicating they'd done was the planning of the Potters' funeral, and once that ended, neither wanted to open up. They just gripped each others' hands and said nothing.

Only a few necessary lights lit Remus' cottage. A cold wind whipped through the woods outside, shaking the little house's shutters and walls. Since Halloween, the weather had been terrible, almost like the sky was in mourning for their friends, too.

"Eva."

As much as he was hurting, Remus worried more about Eva. Her blonde curls hung limply around her face, which was abnormally pale from lack of sleep. She'd been staying at his place, and most nights, he heard her sobbing through the thin walls. Plain jeans and a black turtleneck seemed utterly out of character for his friend, with the only color in her entire look being a red flower drawn onto the back of her left hand.

"Hm?"

"You've got to eat something. This doesn't help anyone."

She ignored him and stood, pushing in her chair with a screech on the floor. "I've got to go, or I'll be late for Dumbledore."

"Forget Dumbledore," he snapped. "Look where he's got us! Besides, he wouldn't want you to starve yourself, either."

"I'm not. Just drop it." Eva sighed and pulled on her jacket, then quickly slid it off and threw it onto the couch. Remus didn't have to look to know it was her leather jacket. "Can I borrow a coat?"

"Yeah. Just grab one from the coat rack." Remus sighed and ran his hands down his face. "Do you want me to go with you?"

"No." When she saw the stricken look on his face, guilt washed over her. "I'm sorry. It's just... I really appreciate everything you've done for me, Remus, but you can't do everything for me."

"I'm not-"

"I know," Eva said. She slid on a threadbare coat made of brown wool. It had patches on the elbows. "I want to stop at my place after, though, so I'll be back late."

Remus stared at her doubtfully. "Is that a good idea?"

"Probably not. I don't care if it is. All of my things are still there. Honestly, I just need to be alone for a little while."

Her voice caught in the back of her throat as she said this, making her words sound choked. Remus rose from his chair and wrapped her in a silent hug. They both stood still for a moment, the sound of the wind and rain against the house echoing in their ears. A few tears slipped down her cheek, but she refused to let them cascade. She'd done enough crying in the past few days to last herself a lifetime, but she knew the pain was far from over.

"Don't be long," Remus whispered. She nodded.

*

When Eva apparated, she appeared in a back alley of Hogsmeade. Dumbledore offered the Floo network but she denied, wanting to just walk by herself for a little while first. She shoved her hands in her pockets and walked down the dark main road, kicking up snow and trying to ignore the ghosts that seemed to follow her everywhere now. Because there they were, chasing each other into the Three Broomsticks, dancing in the snow, laughing about the stupidest things.

"It's the three of us versus James, Pete, and Marlene, because Remus is APPARENTLY TOO COOL FOR BROOMS!"

"Well, for starters, you should stop being an idiot and give Blondie a kiss already."

"James, shut up."

She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the memories, but her attempts were futile. Whether she liked it or not, those moments, those people, were part of who she was. They celebrated with her, cried with her, and more than anything, were there for her.

And now, they were gone.

The walk up to the castle in the bitter cold barely bothered Eva. It seemed so trivial, and she hardly noticed when it started to rain. She didn't shield herself from the downpour, just let herself be soaked to the bone.

She made her way through the halls of Hogwarts in silence, though a few students stared and pointed at the somber young woman who passed them. She ignored the whispers, pulling her coat more tightly around herself. The lamps flickered in the otherwise dark corridors, their pale flames lighting the way to Dumbledore's office.

Eva became so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't notice another figure, also dressed all in black, until she ran right into him.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, picking herself off of the floor with no assistance from the man. It was only then that she glanced up at him, and her gaze froze as she recognized Severus Snape.

He looks awful. His skin appeared ghastly white, and his black hair looked messier than usual. His glittering black eyes were bloodshot.

"It's fine," he muttered back. "Just watch where you're going."

From very early on in her life, Eva felt deeply for others. She always looked out for the underdog, finding her home in a group of misfits. She spent long hours in the library with Regulus, claiming that the time was for studying because the Slytherins would have given him a hard time otherwise. She took care of Remus when he neglected to do so himself. She fell in love with Sirius, a disowned son of the worst family in Great Britain. Everyone always told her that the war hadn't changed her, not one bit, but as she stared at Severus, a man who watched her torture at the hands of Lord Voldemort, a man who worked for the madman who destroyed her life, she found that she had no more sympathy left to give.

It didn't matter that Dumbledore trusted him. It didn't matter that he was cleared of all past transgressions at a Ministry hearing earlier in the week. Her empathy was like an elastic band, stretching closer and closer to the breaking point, and on Halloween, it snapped.

Whatever he had to mourn, he could mourn it by himself.

Eva swept past him without another word and walked up to the entrance to Dumbledore's office. She stood in front of the massive stone gargoyle and pulled a slip of paper out of her pocket.

"Fudge Flies." The gargoyle granted her entrance, and she slowly walked up the stairs, her footsteps echoing oddly.

The office looked as it always did. Bookshelves lined the walls, along with the portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses. Silver trinkets cluttered any available space, and the golden Pensieve occupied its usual place. Fawkes cawed his usual hello, flying down to greet the visitor, but other than the phoenix, the room was empty.

"Hey there," she murmured as he landed on a shelf. Fawkes looked at Eva critically for a few seconds, and his big dark eyes filled with tears. Sighing, she reached out to stroke his head. "Don't cry for me. You can't fix any of my problems with your tears."

"Oh, you," a snide voice said from behind her. "The Mudblood my great-great-grandson was so infatuated with that he tainted our family name just to be with her."

Eva spun around, coming face to face with the portrait of Phineas Nigellus, an unpleasant man and past headmaster. He eyed her with disdain.

"Hello, Headmaster." She subconsciously pulled at her sleeve, making sure that her scar was hidden from his sight.

"Am I correct in saying that your husband has been imprisoned? Rumors do fly."

"Yes," she said stiffly, gripping onto the back of a chair until her knuckles turned white.

"Thirteen murders in one night?"

Tears bit at the corners of her eyes. "Yes."

"Twelve Muggles?"

"Yes," she got out.

"And his best friend?"

Eva couldn't take it anymore. She slammed her hand down on the desktop and snapped, "shut up."

Phineas raised his eyebrows, astonished. "You dare speak to me like that?"

"You're a charmed canvas and acrylic paint," she snapped. "Even if you were here in front of me, I'd say that. Don't you see? I don't care anymore. Nothing matters anymore!"

"Youth," he scoffed. "Thinking that their pain affects the world. You are nothing but an insignificant speck in the bigger picture of life. You want my comforting words because your family is dead at the hands of your deranged husband, and you don't know where you fall in that spectrum. You want my sympathy, but it won't satisfy you. If I did oblige, then you'd snap at me for pitying you, you naive girl-"

"That's quite enough, Phineas," a quiet voice said. Eva didn't even see Dumbledore enter, but he stood near the entrance, a frown on his face. He seemed years older than the last time she saw him, a mere few weeks ago.  Phineas took a step back in his canvas and sat in his chair, apparently done with speaking. Dumbledore's blue eyes fell on Eva, and he kept his face even, although she looked like a different woman entirely. "Have a seat."

Eva obeyed silently, shooting Phineas a final glare as she did. Even sitting, she didn't say anything. There was nothing for her to say.

Professor Dumbledore stroked Fawkes' head before taking his own seat. His long fingers tapped on the desk and he avoided her eyes. "How are you?"

"I- I've been better."

"You've been avoiding me, Mrs. Black."

"Don't call me that." Eva closed her eyes, recalling the horrors of the past week.

"There she is!"

"Mrs. Black, I'm Rita Skeeter of the Daily Prophet, can I have a few words?"

"What do you think about your husband's imprisonment?"

"Did you know he was in league with You-Know-Who?"

"Did he ever try to hurt you?"

"Did you know?"

"Do you still love him?"

"Mrs. Black, Mrs. Black, Mrs. Black!"

Dumbledore folded his hands and nodded in understanding. She wondered if he had used Occulemency, but she didn't care. His violating her mind was better than having to explain what was going on inside it.

"As I said, then, Eva, you've been avoiding me," he said carefully. "But I have matters to discuss with you."

"Why didn't you let me have Harry?" Eva asked brusquely, staring down at her hands as tears filled her eyes. It was the only reason she'd agreed to this meeting in the first place. "I'm his godmother, Professor. You sent him to live with his wretched aunt and uncle. They hated James and Lily, and they'll hate him. They never even met him. Remus and I could take care of him, I swear we can, please just let us-"

"I don't feel like I can disclose all of my reasons to you right now, but you must place your trust in me. I do have my reasons, and Harry is safer growing up away from the Wizarding world."

"Trust?" She asked, hate in her voice. "You want to talk about trust? When Lily and James are dead? When Peter and Marlene are dead?"

"You and I both know who is at fault for that," he said calmly, "and it is not me."

"Stop," she begged, raking a hand through her blonde tangles in agitation. "Don't talk about that."

"I won't." Dumbledore flicked one of the silver instruments, and it made a clinking sound that echoed in her ears. "I do wish to extend my greatest sympathies, however. I understand your pain."

Eva felt like something had broken inside of herself. "You - you think you understand?"

"Loss is an old friend," he said simply.

"Loss? You think you know how I'm feeling?" She sprung up from her chair and started pacing, her voice rising in volume. "Bury four of your best friends in a month! Have your best friends' son taken from your arms when he's all you have left of them! Watch the love of your life get dragged off to prison for eternity while he's screaming your name! As if these aren't bad enough, relive them each and every night! Then come tell me that you understand, because you don't, damn you, you don't!"

She was crying. The tears cascaded down her cheeks and she didn't even try to stop them. Instead, she pushed her pride aside and sank to the floor, her sobs a weak and pitiful sound to the headmaster. Her hunger left a dull ache behind, and her head felt like it was splitting open.

"They're gone," she whispered, distraught. "And it's all my fault! I should have... I should have noticed something... But I never thought that... I never even suspected..."

"That's quite enough of that." Dumbledore sat on the marble step next to her. "None of this was your fault, and I'm sure your friends wouldn't want you blaming yourself for the rest of your life."

Eva stared at the red flower on her hand, the petals jagged and blurred due to the shaking and the tears. "Why am I here?"

"I find myself in need of a professor for next year," he admitted, stroking his long white beard in thought.

"I know Professor Slughorn's retiring. I was terrible in Potions, I thought you knew that."

Dumbledore almost chuckled. "No no, that post has gone to Severus."

"So that was why he's here? You hired a Death Eater."

"I have vouched for him time and time again," Dumbledore said calmly, having expected this reaction. "He was indeed a Death Eater, but he joined our side over a year ago. Severus Snape is no more a Death Eater than you or I."

"How do you know?" Eva asked harshly. "You've been wrong about that before, remember?"

She pulled her sleeve up, revealing mudblood carved into her skin from the night when she discovered Alexander Wicker's true colors.

Dumbledore shook his head in sorrow, remembering all that happened as a result of his failure to see what his hire really was. "I want to offer you the post of Muggle Studies professor. I thought that-"

"No."

He glanced over at her, surprised. "I'm sorry?"

"I said no." She stood to leave. Dumbledore also stood and strode over to his desk, hiding his perplexion.

"Forgive me, but hasn't that been your dream for many years?"

Eva spun around, her hand still touching the doorknob. She looked him right in the eyes.

"I had my dream already, Professor," she said in a deadened voice. "And it just died."

*

By the time Eva arrived in Diagon Alley, it was well past midnight. Once again, she allowed the rain to pour down on her without a care. Slowly, she ducked into her building and climbed the steps, each movement more unsure than the last. The last time she'd been home was Halloween night, the night her life fell apart.

At the door, she hesitated. You are a Gryffindor. You've got to be strong. With an unsteady exhale, she pushed open the door.

The apartment looked exactly as it always did. A golden and scarlet blanket was draped haphazardly over the couch, which sat right in front of the empty fireplace. Her drawings and band posters hung all over the walls, and motorcycle magazines littered the countertop. Two cups of cold coffee and a mostly-empty bowl of candy sat on the coffee table.

Eva walked through the rooms like she didn't recognize any of them, like some of her best memories hadn't taken place inside of these walls. She tried to forget how many times Sirius had scooped her off of the couch and carried her to bed, both of them laughing hysterically. She tried to forget all of the movie nights where they'd have a competition to see who could stay up later. She tried to forget studying art at the tiny kitchen table while he worked on cases for the Auror department. She tried to forget dancing to Billy Joel and ABBA in their pajamas.

Trying to forget only made her remember more, and suddenly, she couldn't breathe.

The tears fell more violently this time and she hurried over to the kitchen to pour herself a cup of water. She dropped the first glass and it shattered all over the hardwood floors. With no regard for her safety, she clumsily tried to clean up the shards, ignoring how much each slice in her hand hurt. She didn't want the pain to go away, not yet. It felt better than numb acceptance.

Eva started to go through the kitchen drawers blindly, hoping to find some bandages, but her bloody fingers brushed against a small box instead. She hesitated, then her fingers closed around it and drew it out. Her breath rattled as she stared at the little box, at the thing she hated so much, the thing that had stolen someone she loved.

She slipped a cigarette into her mouth without another thought.

Using her wand to light the end, she closed her eyes and inhaled the stench that killed her father, hoping and praying that this little stick of cancer would take her, too. The smell made her want to throw up, and as soon as she inhaled, uncontrollable coughing followed, but she kept it between her teeth because it smelled like Sirius, and she was weak.

Eva took her cup of water and carried it into the bedroom, where she poured it on top of Francis and sat down on the corner of the bed. Her eyes fell on a picture on the nightstand, and her hands trembled as she picked it up.

The Quidditch World Cup seemed decades ago, but in reality, only four years had passed. She could remember it so clearly as she stared at them all, back when they were eight, not two. There was Kriss' USA baseball cap, and Peter's obnoxious laugh, and James' goofy smile. There was Remus' guidebook, and Marlene's red lipstick, and Lily's favorite green top.

And there were two stupid kids, a girl with a blonde braid and a boy with ripped black jeans, and their hands were joined.

"I'm sorry," she whispered raggedly, coughing on more smoke as tears soaked her cheeks. "I'm s-s-so sorry."

Hours later, Remus found her sobbing in the exact same spot, blood from her fingers smearing across the glass frame. He sat down next to her and folded his hands, quiet for a moment. Then, he turned to her, his dark eyes meeting her tear-filled ones.

"You shouldn't have that," he murmured, taking the cigarette from her. He threw it away, and all that he found, just for good measure. When he returned to the bedroom, he sat down right next to her again. "You're stronger than that. This isn't you."

"I don't even know who I am," she whispered brokenly. She traced her scars, her finger trembling.

"That's okay. Me either. Not anymore." Remus pulled her closer to him and shut his eyes, burying his face in her hair as he tried not to break down.

Her voice was muffled when she spoke again. "I can't stay here anymore. It hurts too much. Everything hurts too much. I don't know where I'm going, but-"

"I'll go with you."

She looked up at him, her green eyes widening. "R-really?"

"Of course I will, Eve. You're... you're all I've got left, too."

"Where will we go?" Eva asked. She twisted her wedding ring back and forth, debating whether or not to take it off. It's wrong, but I still love him.

Remus thought for a moment before settling on the perfect place. "I have an idea."

THE END

Hello! This is the official end of 'Epoch'! Thank you guys so much for reading this sequel, it means so much to me. I hope I haven't stomped on your hearts too much.

The third installment of this trilogy, 'Epiphany' will be out soon! The introductory chapters will be posted today, so be sure to check them out!

Thank you so much for caring about Eva's story. Your support means the world to me. Please be sure to check out the third book and my other works!

Xo, the author ;)