Chapter Text
Remus examined his hands, flexing his nimble fingers under the light of the full moon. He covered his face from its gentle glow and smiled sleepily. Feeling pleasantly tipsy in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time, Remus stretched his legs and heard their empty bottles clink on the grass.
"Beautiful night, isn't it?" James' voice called. He was standing at the edge of the pier on a very familiar lake. "Reckon Marietta will come if I whistle?"
Remus looked up at James, the moon shone on him so that his glasses reflected the light. A warm ache resonated in Remus’ chest.
"That joke has gotten old, Prongs," Sirius' voice said. Remus turned his head, Padfoot lay next to him on the grass.
“You hurt my feelings, Padfoot. Marietta and I are for the ages,” James cried dramatically as Remus snorted.
“I doubt the giant squid comes out at this time, Prongs,” Remus reminded him, gently. “It is quite late.. And the moon-” Remus lost his train of thought as he looked back up at the glowing orb, the light bright enough to light the tips of the grass.
"Hmm, but it beckons," James said in a thoughtful voice. He stood with his back to the edge of the pier. Grinning, he stretched out his arms and fell back into the lake, disappearing into the depths.
Both Sirius and Remus were on their feet. "Prongs!" They watched anxiously at the surface of the water.
James' head bobbed up, almost black in the night, ripples of moonlight circled him where he had disturbed the water. A breeze chilled their bones.
"Blimey, it is fucking cold!" James said finally.
"Of course it is you moron," Sirius said, his momentary panic replaced by laughter.
Remus smiled nervously, relieved James was alright.
"Come on in," James said, his gaze on Sirius in a way that wiped the smile off of Remus’ face. The hairs at the back of his neck prickled.
"Padfoot, you’ve been drinking," Remus grabbed onto his arm. "Too much at that - don't be an idiot."
"Live a little, Moony,” Sirius grinned at him, he was trying to tug himself away from Remus. “C'mon!”
And then James lifted one arm out of the water, his hand reaching out. He said, in an eerie commanding voice, "Sirius, come."
"No," The word was almost silent as Remus felt paralysed, watching Sirius rip his arm from his, and take a running leap into the deep waters.
The light of the moon seemed to glow brighter, stronger - Remus shielded his eyes, struggling to keep an eye on his friends.
Squinting, he could just make out dark shapes as both their bodies disappeared into the water, and the lake became still. Remus could feel in his paralysis, hair sprouting on his arm, something shifting under his very skin.. In a frenzied panic, he kicked the empty bottles until they all rolled into the lake. He looked up at the moon, at the full moon, and realisation broke in him as his limbs began to shake uncontrollably, elongating into something inhuman...
Don't go , a wolf howled into the moon.
Remus woke up sweating. His wide eyes searched around the room, slowly recognising the ornate carvings on the wardrobe, following the faded colours on the walls and then finally settling on Orion’s robes. He was at Grimmauld.
His chest heaved a sigh and he wiped the sweat from his forehead. Remus sat up on his bed, pressing his palms into his eyes as they began to sting.
-
Remus stretched as he walked down the stairs for breakfast, going past the stuffed elf heads who now had Father Christmas hats and beards that neither he nor Sirius had bothered to take down from Christmas holidays.
"Not like I am going to know the difference," Sirius had pointed out dryly. "You can keep telling me it’s Christmas for the rest of the year."
"And listen to God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs for the rest of the year? Release me from that misery," Remus had responded primly.
When he arrived in the kitchen, he was greeted by oddly scented fumes. In the middle of it was Sirius, assembling the broken music box. His plate of breakfast was near his usual seat on the table, along with tea in his favourite - not only Welsh but perfect too - mug. This has long been a routine that Sirius had grown irritated whenever he tried to thank him. (“Always the gentleman eh, Moony?”)
“You managed to fix it,” Remus observed as he sat down, and started wolfing down his breakfast. The eggs tasted odd with the scent in the air. Not that he would tell Sirius, who would insist on making his breakfast, perhaps an even more elaborate one, if he so much as told him there wasn’t enough salt.
“Not really,” Sirius muttered. “It still sings that ghastly tune. I just didn't want it to-” he paused, looking for the right word.
“Remain broken?” Remus suggested, through a mouthful of fried egg.
“Something like that,” Sirius said with an odd wistfulness. He caught himself and said, “Most of the house is clear now. No more precious heirlooms and dark objects - think we have managed to get everything. This might even be a decent home to live in now.”
Remus looked up at him, “Do you want Harry to be here after the term is over?”
“It’s the best I can offer now. He shouldn’t have to go back to the place if he doesn’t want to. He keeps playing it down but..”
He cleared his plate and waved his wand - the plate started scrubbing itself clean near the sink. “You think he is unhappy where he stays?”
“He doesn’t tell me straight out,” Sirius said. “But yeah. I hope to bring him here. And maybe after the war is over, we can sell this mausoleum and go somewhere in the country. Some place where we can see the sky.”
Remus smiled, living in Grimmauld Place, sometimes one forgot what the outside world looked like. Each time he went out for a mission, the colours of the sky and the streets were hard on his eyes with so many days spent inside the darkness of the house. He couldn’t even imagine what it would be like for Sirius, who barely stepped out. Yet, the shadows of the house were also a reprieve for him…
He surreptitiously walked into the pantry, where Kreacher had taken to storing meat for him in exchange for Black family heirlooms that Remus could rummage out of their rubbish bags. It was an arrangement Kreacher had not taken lightly.
“Kreacher would do anything to protect the treasures of the most Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, even if it means associating with common beasts,” he sniffed as he took the hastily spellotaped portraits of the family. “Oh my poor mistress, forgive Kreacher for what he had to resort to in calamitous times.”
“What are you up to?” Sirius’ voice called from the kitchen.
“Just looking for something,” Remus said casually, going through jars of flour and cereal.
“In the pantry?” Sirius asked, incredulously. “Moony, I told you to tell me in case you want to eat something you like. It's just like you, playing martyr at a breakfast table.”
Remus felt immediately guilty as he pocketed cuts of meat. Feeling quite like Kreacher being caught with Walburga’s gloves the other day, he walked out of the pantry. “It's nothing like that,” he told him, hoping Sirius did not notice his hands clenched inside his pocket.
Sirius’ eyes searched his face but seemed to decide to drop the matter. He went back to the assembled music box and tapped the bird that spun dizzily out of control, warbling the tune that made Sirius grimace. Leaving him to it, Remus quietly walked out of the room into the hall, and felt pinned to the spot by the narrowed eyes of the portraits of the extended Black family. One of them even wiped their monocle to watch him suspiciously as he climbed the stairs to the second floor.
"Can't be worse than anything you did, Aunt Elladora," Remus muttered under his breath, eliciting a shocked gasp and scandalous looks among them.
-
Remus opened the door to the bathroom, the ghoul immediately began to groan and clink at his chains. He conjured a plate and placed the meat carefully.
“Quiet or you’ll both get us into trouble-”
“Well, well, he is a liar and a thief,” Sirius announced from the doorway. Remus nearly jumped out of his skin and the plate of cold meat fell with a clang on the bathroom floor. The ghoul strained against its chains.
“You must be fucking joking, Moony,” Sirius said leaning against the doorframe. “You really are your father’s son.”
Remus scowled at him as he picked up the pieces of cold meat and threw them at the open mouth of the ghoul. “You can’t expect me to leave it to go hungry?” He watched as the ghoul ate ravenously.
“No actually I do, would save us time on thinking of a way to get rid of it,” Sirius shook his head. “And you’re feeding a ghoul off my mother’s fine china, no less. What would Kreacher say?”
Remus waved his wand, the pieces of broken plate flew back together. “Kreacher is just doing what’s expected of him.” Without another word, he walked out, pretending there was nothing unusual about what just happened.
“Don’t tell me you’ve teamed up with the little gremlin as well now?” Sirius followed him back into the kitchen. “Hang on, are you the one sneaking him some old photographs I’ve been trying to toss out?”
“I have no idea what family photographs you are talking about.”
“I can’t believe you,” Sirius laughed incredulously. “What’s going on with you?”
He carried on ignoring him but was stopped in his tracks when Sirius placed a hand on his shoulder to turn him around. His friend’s grey eyes stared at him, it was impossible for Remus to not feel as if he were under a spotlight. Jaw clenching, he tried to look away.
But Sirius found the answer already. “You don’t like that we have it chained up?”
“Neither of us liked it, Padfoot,” he pointed out, noticing as he did so, a barest whisper of movement of Sirius' wrist on his shoulder. An unconscious twitch.
Sirius gave a nod of understanding. “Yeah, we don’t - but its a ghoul, Moony. Tell me you get that?”
“What is there to get, Sirius?” Remus dragged a hand through his hair. “We would be served the same trial, if at all, captured by the same division. If the Ministry sees us the same then why should I question it,” He sighed, recalling the pamphlets he was sent of the new legislation for registered Werewolves. “If Umbridge says day is night and night is day - so it shall fucking be.”
“You’re going to let that bitch decide where you fit?”
“It’s easier if I accept it, or else the anger gets uncontrollable,” Remus chuckled. “So you’ll forgive me? You would always pass me a couple of scraps of rabbit meat during full moons. See it as me paying it forward to our ghoul friend in there.”
"I may have a better idea," Sirius said, a gleam of something like youthful mischief returning to his deadened grey eyes.
—
The sea was roaring against the cliff, crashing piteously at the bottom of the outcrop that held the ruins of a long forgotten castle. It had been challenging to disapparate with a dog and a groaning ghoul under an oversized robe but somehow they had made it. Remus was removing the magical manacles from their new friend, as Sirius sat on the white sand of the inlet. Raising his face, Sirius closed his eyes to the sound of the wind and throaty call of the gannets.
“I can’t believe you convinced me to do this,” Remus muttered. “I can’t believe we are here.. Talk about morbid, Padfoot.”
Sirius opened his eyes and smiled wryly, “Morbid? I’ll have you know I swam in these waters and earned my freedom. A place of my greatest triumph. Perhaps our friend here can find a similar happy ending. Plenty of ruins here for him to mope around in.”
As the final chain clicked free, Remus cast a Protego before the ghoul attacked them. Sirius smiled lazily at the ghoul, righting itself after being thrown back from the shield charm. “Don’t fall in the water - it is fucking cold,” he told the angry ghoul knowledgeably. “It feels like fire at first…and then, you get used to it. The worst part is when you get on the shore, when your body doesn’t know how to…. Yeah, that’s the worst part.” He trailed off. “Run along now, and make yourself useful and haunt some Children of God.”
Remus sat down beside him as they watched the ghoul slouch its way towards the castle on top of the cliff. “Will it be okay, do you think?”
“It will be fine,” Sirius said dismissively, staring out to the sea. “This is the best either of us could do. If you want to worry about anyone Remus, worry about us.”
“Us?”
“Molly is coming over for lunch. She is going to know you broke me out.”
“Oh fuck,” Remus groaned.
“Well,” Sirius grinned, a frenetic gleam in his eye as he stood up. “If we are both going to get chewed out, might as well have some fun.”
His friend transformed into a black dog, and gambolled on the shore in a wild joy that was contagious. Remus ignored the small prickle of anxiety he felt at the sight of him near the very waters that swallowed him into 12 years of darkness but it was quickly diminished as he saw the grey black dog chase waves and yelp as he touched the waters. Remus laughed as Padfoot skipped over rocks, and playfully snapped at a couple of gannets that were shooting towards the sea from their nests on the cliff face. Not for the first time, he felt envious watching Sirius. A part of him wished it was a full moon tonight, so he could enjoy himself like the old days with his friend by his side. The cold air made his muscles tight and bones creak unpleasantly, and he wanted to be reminded of the feel of his paws pushing the earth to fly through onerous terrain. Memories of their Hogsmeade runs rose in his mind’s eye. He removed his shoes and socks, just to feel the sand underneath his feet. He spread his toes feeling the grains as he sunk them deeper … How would the rocks feel under pads of that paw, how would the air smell with that nose, how would this look in the moonlight? He smiled as Padfoot came running back to him.
-
Molly was peeling carrots with extra ferocity this afternoon, not even bothering to use magic. A pile of orange strips was building ever higher so that even Kreacher had to give a double take as he walked past surveying the mountain.
Sirius and Remus watched from a safe distance as the woman muttered under her breath
“Do you need help?” Remus offered politely.
She looked up at them as if noticing them for the first time. “Oh, no no, you two stay there - I’m almost done.”
Remus glanced at the pile of still unpeeled carrots beside her. He cast a side glance to Sirius who raised his eyebrows and shrugged back at him.
“Who else is coming this evening?” Sirius asked.
Molly wiped a carrot skin that got stuck to her forehead from her hastiness. “Just the usual.”
They watched as the woman worked the peeler as if the carrot itself were Voldemort.
“Molly, there’s barely anything left of that bloody vegetable,” Sirius said. “Is anything the matter?”
Having peeled the carrot much too thin, the peeler slipped and Molly yelped in surprise. Remus stood up quickly and pulled out his handkerchief. “Here,” he said as he pressed it to her bleeding finger. “There must be something wrong, what happened?”
Molly sighed. “It’s Bill.”
Remus acciod a bottle of Dittany and began to dab some of it on her finger.
“What’s wrong with Bill?” Sirius asked. “Did something happen to him?”
“Yes,” Her lip trembled as she took in a breath, Remus paused, staring at the woman anxiously. “He told Arthur and myself last night that…that..”
Remus waited, he heard Sirius stand up from his chair and walk towards them.
“He got engaged,” Molly said with a tight voice. “With Fleur.”
Remus frowned and looked beside him where Sirius stood, he too seemed to be trying to understand some ancient ruin.
“And that’s a bad thing?” Sirius asked.
“Yes!” Molly cried incredulously, as if the possibility of it being anything else was as far-fetched as Kreacher using the carrot peeler to destroy Walburga’s portrait.
Sirius nodded slowly but seemed to still be trying to work out some missing piece of this confusing puzzle.
Remus pocketed the handkerchief again. “I thought they loved each other, Molly, what has given you reason to question the engagement?”
“I don’t believe that girl- my boy is very handsome and I don’t think she - this is too soon!” She wiped her eyes. “Oh why didn’t he give Tonks a chance?”
Remus stiffened. “Tonks?”
“They had gone on a handful of dates but it never worked out,” Molly picked up her wand and waved it over the carrots, the peeler magically picked up from where she had last left off. She walked over to where a large pot of soup was stewing and she tossed some of the carrots in. She clapped the sides of herself in frustration. “Look now, I’ve forgotten the potatoes in my stress, that girl has even managed to ruin the soup.”
They watched as Molly untied her apron and pulled on her robes to go buy what they presumed were potatoes. She wiped her eyes as she muttered. “Imagine what she’ll do to Bill.”
Remus and Sirius silently exchanged looks, knowing that Bill would fare much better than potatoes.
Remus eventually retired into the drawing room, filled with multiple servings of soup - that had thankfully not been ruined by Fleur (Sirius had declared it free of The Delacour Influence - earning a smile from Molly). But despite what could have been described as a pleasant evening, Remus couldn’t quite get the thought of Tonks out of his head. Her pink hair seemed to be making appearances even in his most mundane thoughts lately, and with the discussion of engagements, Remus found himself imagining the impossible.
“Still moping I see,” Sirius came into the drawing room, a bottle of whiskey in hand.
Remus eyed the bottle making sure his expression matched his displeasure. “Now you see, this is where the two of us differ, I let you have your tantrums without following you around from room to room.”
“The problem is mate, you don’t have tantrums, you have years and years of bottled up self-deprecation.” Sirius took a drink. “It’s pitiful.”
Remus sat down quietly, he was in no mood to take part in this conversation. “I’ve found it suits me well, took me years to perfect it in fact.”
“Self-deprecation never looked good on you - you have a chance to have something like James did.”
“A normal life? It's an absurd wish. I’m not James, Sirius.”
“No shit.”
Remus pressed the bridge of his nose. “Enough with this.”
“No, I see the way you look at her. You act like a bloody teenager around her - happy, you’re happy,” Sirius sounded frustrated, desperate even. “Merlin’s sake Moony, when last?”
“When last for both of us?” Remus shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Tonks can’t possibly have any feelings for me, this conversation is wasted, Sirius.”
“Are you just cynical, or are you choosing to be an imbecile?”
“Sirius, stop.”
“You know, I think it’s neither,” Sirius ignored Remus’ warning. “I think you know she has feelings for you, but you’re too afraid. Rather stay miserable, hey Moony?”
He felt wounded, as he often did when Sirius barreled through his feelings and laid them bare in front of him. “That’s a bit rich coming from you,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “Have you any idea what you look like?”
“Like shit, I reckon,” Sirius said, his voice hard. “Don’t you understand - you have a chance! I can see how she looks at you-”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t matter how she feels?”
“That’s not what - I can see what you are trying to do, Padfoot- you are trying to bait me-” Remus was faltering on his words, trying to find a way to beat him to the punch. But Sirius was too quick, as he had always been.
“You need to be baited! You need to be fucking pushed. You are a stubborn little shit who believes he doesn’t deserve anything and that’s not true, Remus.”
“Funny. Pot, meet kettle,” Remus said, leaning back into the couch and rubbing his eyes. “Why aren’t we talking about you? You shut yourself up and you don’t let me reach you-”
“You don’t need to know what haunts me.”
Remus’ chest tightened, he watched his friend’s expression darken. His own anger turned into urgency, “Maybe I do, Sirius. Maybe I can help - you don’t even let me in half the time- it’s like pulling teeth-”
“Kettle, meet Pot.”
Remus gave an exhausted laugh, a relief to have Sirius back from the dark thoughts that had just plagued him. “Will you never make it easy to be your friend, Padfoot?”
Sirius grinned, “I’d wager we both are going to give each other a very difficult time.”
“Like sucking water out of a rock,” Remus said dryly. “Cheers to never becoming wiser.”
Sirius swung his feet onto the couch opposite him, he lay back, the bottle of whiskey dangling from his one hand.
“What would James think of us?” Sirius said, staring up at the ceiling.
Remus looked down at his hands, he traced old scars with a finger, feeling the puckering skin. He smiled bitterly. “He’d tell us we’re old and boring.”
He looked up as he heard Padfoot chuckle, his grey eyes glistened as they kept staring at the ceiling. The two of them didn’t speak the words, Remus could feel the ache in his chest as the painful longing for their brother echoed between them.
-
Remus’ world ended in a dance - a dance he witnessed between his best friend and his hated cousin on the dais that held the ancient archway, - a fluid back and forth of spells, sing-song jeering and mocking taunts that belied the history of their family. “You can do better than that,” Sirius called, and the world ended. A spell hit him squarely in the chest and pushed him towards the archway.
Remus could feel his legs moving, running, as he watched Sirius’ laughter freeze on his face. He watched Sirius’ body curve gracefully as he fell through the ragged veil that hung from the archway and disappeared into nothingness.
It’s over. The shock of it made Remus stop, his extremities numb and cold. The veil fluttered as if in high wind and fell back in place as if signalling the end of a performance.
As he heard Bellatrix’ triumphant declaration like a gladiator victor, a voice pierced his paralysis - a young boy’s desperate screaming. Harry. He was vaguely aware of grabbing onto him, and he said the words that burned his throat, “He’s gone.”
It’s over.
His eyes pricked with unshed tears. He blinked them back as Harry clawed at his arms. He dragged Harry back from the dais, as the veil rippled with eerie serenity. Remus could hear himself, as if from a long way away, as if his voice was floating away from his body, trying to reason with a frantic Harry. “He can’t come back-” it was only when he could hear his voice starting to break that he felt it was truly his own words. “Because he is-”
“HE- IS-NOT-DEAD! SIRIUS !”
Harry's agonised voice was ringing in the cavernous room. He could not tell what was more painful - Harry’s denial, or his certainty of it, an inevitability, like the waning and waxing of the moon. It’s over. He could not bear looking at the veil - at that thing anymore. If he looked anymore, he would not be able to contain his howl of misery and grief… The moment Harry looked to be on the precipice of numbness and defeat, Remus looked away from the archway. He’s gone , he repeated to himself.
-
Remus picked up the velvet robes, tailored to fit him by Sirius. His eyes scanned over them, nothing had felt more foreign to him, yet Sirius had tried, he had tried to make them both fit in this home.
In the end, none of it was real.
Sliding an old wooden coat hanger through the robe, Remus hung the robes back into the wardrobe. They didn’t belong to him, even if tailored that way, he wouldn’t be able to wear them again where he was going. He closed the doors to the wardrobe, his fingers still clutched the brass handles, not quite ready to end it.
-
Remus stood with his suitcase, the house was already a stranger to him without its haunted resident. On the dining table was a very familiar music box. He opened it, and the box sang, La pureté de notre famille est notre fierté.. Remus smiled weakly.
He heard the door open. The moment he caught sight of her - pale and tired as he probably was, his heart gave a tired skip. He didn’t say anything.
“Funny song,” she ventured awkwardly. J amais ne s'éteindra … jamais ne s'éteindra … The black bird sang into the deafening emptiness of the kitchen.
“Yeah,” he tried to smile, but it came as a grimace.
“I heard that you are taking up the job- to live among them,” she said, eyeing him carefully. “Is that really what you want?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want, besides, they’re my kind,” he said forcefully, and he looked her in the eye. She flushed. “I don’t have a place here anymore.”
“Your kind? Remus, you belong here with us,” she took a step towards him, starting to look agitated.
Remus hesitated before responding, “I’ve been pretending for Sirius’ sake, and I don’t need to anymore.”
Tonks stared at him.
“It’s alright, you don’t understand,” He added.
“Don’t condescend me,” her voice was getting louder. “I know what you are doing and why- I lost him too, Remus! I lost him because-”
“No, you didn’t” he snapped, taken aback by the heat in his voice. “You could never understand-”
Tonks walked up to him, looking up at his face with those bright eyes, grief stricken, but still alive. “Then help me to, speak to me,” She grabbed his hand and held it between hers. “Don’t go, Remus.”
For a moment, Remus could have given into her, collapsed into her arms and continued to pretend. Then the music box began to whirl as the tune ended, the small birds stopped as if frozen in time. “I’m the only one left.”
Remus wanted to follow them, disappear into the depths with his brothers, where even the memory of Peter was still pure and foolish.
“Bollocks,” she said, snapping him out of a memory. “There’s still the whole Order. You don’t know the risks and you may run into-” she stopped, looking at his face. She looked suddenly horrified. “Do you want to run into him?”
He brushed a strand of light brown hair from Tonks’ face, she leaned into his hand with her eyes pleading up at him.
“How I wish I could keep at this,” he said quietly.
Worried that if he lingered longer he would second guess his decision, Remus placed the music box into his pocket and walked briskly out of the room.
-
Alfred never did see anything more stranger than the man and the dog on the street. Sometimes he saw an offensively bright punk woman, an exotic Black man in rich robes that they definitely did not sell in London’s Woolworths. He could even swear that once he had seen the Oliver Twist actor, the dog and some third party that must have been a child because it was groaning under a robe as if being dragged to the dentist. But the sightings of them were so sparse and random, the dog only making two appearances at most, that Alfred tried to blame it on unusual weather changes and dust particles playing with his vision.
It was a crispy June morning when he saw his last sighting, or better put, first introduction. He was thrown backward onto the pavement after he collided into the man. He had a lined face, and he looked distraught as he was running across the street. What was he so upset about? Did he lose his dog?
"Remus!" a voice cried, and out of thin air, he saw a woman, pale and wan, with brown hair run after the man. "Don't go!"
Oh - a lover's quarrel, how tedious. Could they not have saved the dramatics while they were inside the house? They both melted into the other side of the street. Whether the woman caught up with the man, he did not know. Alfred got up, dusted his trousers and hoped he wasn't late for work.