Chapter Text
When James finally gets together with Lily, Remus expects a time of elated celebration.
James’ pining for Lily had been a constant within the history of the Marauders. It was a rule, as Sirius put it one drunken night: James Potter will always be in thrall of the red fox named Lily, and we brave knights of the Marauders must aid him on his eternal quest.
Despite that none of them truly believed in the eventual coming together of James’ destiny, they persisted in their support, and against all chance and laws they thought they had understood about this world, Lily fell in love, and the dream became reality.
Remus, in his floating thoughts of future eventualities had once or twice wondered upon the possibility of success, and theorized that the time after would be one of great hope for all for them. It should have prophesied great fortune, formed a new found grace to the universe; the impossible became possible.
What they get instead is a muted adjusting period.
James does partake in elated celebration, but he celebrates with Lily, not with his friends. His absence is a shock to all of them. Although retrospectively, they should have seen it coming.
The consequences of his absence are destructive to say the least. The Marauders don’t feel like the Marauders anymore. This makes Remus stand back and reflect. Because when one fourth of a group leaves, shouldn’t the majority that is left behind keep the group from disintegrating? Shouldn’t they be able to click together in this new form and adjust to the change?
The answer of this is, of course, no, because although they had been a solid group of friends before the fraction, they have never been a balanced assembly. And also proven by this experiment, there is a problem with codependency somewhere and it’s not so subtle as it was before.
Sirius and James have always been the main core of the group. Not as individuals, but as a pair. Their synergy is what fuels the Marauders, their friendship forms the basis where Remus and Peter hold on to for dear life. They are like two planets twirling together in collision, always pushing and pulling, but never fully destroying the other.
Peter is the sole inhabitant of the planet called James. He’s made insignificant due to sheer difference in size – both literally and figuratively – but he is welcomed. Their friendship is one of worship and kindness, with a hint of selfish use on both sides.
Remus is the moon orbiting Sirius, which is ironically fitting as a metaphor. Always close-by; attracted by the gravitating personality and charm, but never too close, always at a distance. Observing, waiting, hiding. Wanting.
Now that James left their apocalyptic dance, their universe crumbles.
Peter is lost, Sirius is missing his other half, and Remus is left reflecting. He comes to the conclusion that he can’t let them slip through his fingers like this. It’s been a month since the happy couple reigned destruction upon their peaceful lives, and Remus is willing to lecture a certain James Potter for being a shitty friend in order to get some semblance of balance back.
Because Peter is hinging on being officially depressed and/or drowned in food because James isn’t here to tell him that eating the eleventh chocolate frog of the hour is not a smart choice, and Remus is tired of being a replacing motherhen.
And because it’s torture to see Sirius like this, walking around the halls like a zombie, as if James took all the creative energy with him and stole Sirius’ enthusiasm for good measure. Sirius is so lonely that he attaches himself to Remus like a cat, always near, always demanding attention. Remus can’t read a book without having Sirius’ head on his lap. Which Remus doesn’t mind in theory, but unfortunately, having someone on you all the time is not practical in reality, or very comfortable. Certainly if the reason behind this tactility is not affection towards Remus, but a reaction to the absence of another person.
Remus can’t take his hand through Sirius’ hair like he wants to without feeling like he’s committing atrocious crimes by selfishly using Sirius’ vulnerability to his advantage. This is why he prefers distance to temptation. With James around, Sirius’ inherent need for touch based comfort is divided between two people, which makes it easier to deal with.
Conclusion: James should get his arse back here and think hard about if he really wants to abandon his friends of over 5 years for a girl, admittedly a girl he’s been pining over for that same amount, but still. The Marauders are like family, a quote directly from James’ mouth, and family calls each other out on their idiotics.
So Remus unceremoniously pushes Sirius off of him in order to go on a warpath.
Sirius takes one look upon his face and knows what he’s planning. His telepathic tendencies have only grown worse, now that Remus is the only subject of his terrifying attention.
Sirius smiles a grim smile before releasing Remus from his hold. “Punch him for me.”
“I’m not going to punch anyone, but I’m going to lecture, if necessary,” Remus replies, shrugging on his coat and looking at the map– If he’s quick, he can intercept James from his quidditch training after which he will walk to the lake to meet up with Lily.
Sirius skips the trainings because, allegedly, James does not shut up about Lily, even during practice. After a while, Sirius stormed out of the trainings fuming and started avoiding James all together.
Which brings Remus to the second part of the problem, and the reason why he has the responsibility to drag them out of this rut. Sirius and James are actively fighting and refuse to talk to each other. They both blame the other for the lack of communication, which turns into avoidance, which turns into another reason for James to be absent.
“A lecture. I like where this is going,” Sirius says smugly. He stretches on the bed, burying into the spot where Remus just sat. “That’s worse than being punched.”
“If you weren’t childish and talked to him yourself, I wouldn’t have to do this,” Remus snaps, looking down at Sirius.
Sirius’ expression flickers from annoyance into his self-righteous pout within a fraction of a second. “If he hadn’t been a bloody bastard, I would still be talking to him.”
Remus sighs and gives up.
When he walks out their dorm he looks back one last time, meeting Sirius eyes and pulling his best solemnly concerned face. “I’ll talk to James, and then you two will talk. Please don’t be difficult about it. I just want to fix this.”
That seems to touch Sirius somewhere, because although he frowns, he nods too. Remus quirks a quick smile at him and mouths thank you before leaving to verbally kick James back into orbit.
---
The sun is setting, dyeing the sky in a blood red hue, which only deepens the sense of foreboding Remus is feeling. Frantic doubts cloud his mind as he marches towards the quidditch grounds. This feels like their last chance as the Marauders. Remus knows that thought is nearing Sirius-level dramatics but he can’t help but feel it anyway.
He still doesn’t quite know what to say to James. The word ‘lecture’ is a vague and general term that answers nothing in terms of the nuance needed in order to solve this mess. What if he can’t get James to talk to him? What if James has already given up on them, chosen an seemingly easy relationship over dealing with his slowly adjusting friends? What if Remus comes back empty handed and Sirius will blame him for ruining their last chance and leave him too?
Remus shakes himself out of that ridiculous thought spiral. Thinking in terms of what if’s won’t help him. He just has to confront James, prompt him to reflect, and hope for the best. He can’t do more than that. He can’t change anyone’s behaviour, despite fervently trying in the past.
Even though there isn’t much light left, Remus recognizes James from afar. He calls out, and jogs towards him. James turns at the sound, and for the grace of Merlin, stays put.
“I want to talk to you,” Remus rushes through elevated breaths when he reaches James. James grimaces and slightly turns away, as if trying to slip away would help him out now. Remus isn’t letting this go.
“I… Lily–” James mumbles, but at Remus’ expression he quiets and his shoulders slump down as if he’s suddenly carrying a dozen bludgers. “We could sit down at the bench?”
Remus nods and they walk back to the quidditch grounds in silence. James is dragging his bag behind him and holds the general aura of someone who is going to his own funeral.
Remus coughs awkwardly to get James’ attention. “I’m not here to attack you, I just want to talk.”
James snorts. “You’re here to lecture me.”
“If necessary,” Remus agrees.
They reach the bench and sit down, looking out to everything but each other. The sunset is aesthetically pleasing, but Remus can’t focus on anything except James’ presence next to him and the bloody what if’s still tormenting his mind.
Eventually, James leans back and turns to Remus with a half smile, which makes him a little more hopeful.
“Lectures are worse than punches,” James says seriously, but with a teasing undertone.
Remus smiles despite himself. “Sirius said the same thing.”
And that was exactly the wrong thing to say, because James’ face falls and he tenses. He doesn’t turn away, but he stares off into the distance, his hands fiddling in his lap. “Yeah, Sirius.”
Remus has no clue what to do, or what to say. So he keeps his mouth shut.
None of the previous anger that drove him here has remained, and he can’t go on a rant without the rage. Now, sitting next to James after an admittedly long time, possibly the longest in the course of their friendship, Remus realises how much he’s missed this. How much he’s missed James. To him, it was almost automatic to follow Sirius when he pulled away from James. He never consciously decided it, but it’s what had happened. He never really went out to hang out with James on his own. He didn’t avoid him exactly, but he did not take appropriate action either. Maybe he’s not here to lecture. Maybe he should be here to apologize.
When Remus nearly has gathered up enough courage to do so, James clears his throat.
“I don’t know what Sirius told you about our fight…”
“–Nothing much,” Remus fills in.
“Oh, okay. Well, anyway. We fought about Lily, and my absence in the group.” James trails off. Remus hums to show that he’s listening and to prompt him to continue.
“We both said stupid shit, in the end. But what stuck with me were Sirius’ parting words.” James takes a deep breath, and Remus feels like there are a multitude of spiders crawling over his skin. He can guess where this is going.
“Sirius said he wished that Lily never had fallen in love with me, and that I would kept on pining like the stupid perverted idiot I used to be. That I single handedly ruined the Marauders and our friendship by being selfish and uncaring and always getting my way in the end. That Sirius should have known better to be friends with me because I would abandon him eventually.”
Remus can’t do anything more than drop his head in his hands and sigh deeply at that.
James chuckles bitterly at his reaction and continues, “After that he told me he’s quitting training.”
“That’s why he came back so haunted after the last one,” Remus mumbles, puzzle pieces falling into place.
“I cannot believe he didn’t tell you guys any of this. I thought that was why you and Peter were avoiding me, too. I thought you were all angry at me.”
“Merlin, we made a mess of this,” Remus sighs, rubbing his fingers to his temple. “We were angry at you– or no... we’re hurt, maybe disappointed. But not because of anything Sirius said. We just thought you were done with us, that the Marauders were done for you. That you had had enough and moved on with your life. And personally, I didn’t want to intrude upon your time with Lily at first, because I know how much you wanted this, for so long. I can’t imagine how it would be to finally have it.” Remus stops himself there, and then sighs again. “I came here thinking that I would need to remind you that you have a life outside of your relationship. Peter is in need of his mother hen. I swear, I don’t know how you keep up with his antics. And Sirius is eating himself up over missing you.”
It’s quiet for a tense second but then James gently bumps his shoulder against Remus. Remus leans against the weight.
“And you?” James asks finally, softly, as if he doesn’t want to break the relatively comfortable silence they created sitting next to each other.
“I miss you, a lot. I miss us, I miss the Marauders. I miss the balance,” Remus says honestly, and suddenly it feels like he’s been released from a curse, the heavy pressure in his chest gone, making him feel dizzy. “I’m sorry I didn’t go to you earlier. I’m sorry for avoiding you. I didn’t mean too, but I’m sorry anyway. I... just thought it wouldn’t be welcomed.”
James throws an arm around Remus, a warm and grounding weight – and slightly sweaty smell – around his shoulders. Merlin, he has missed James. “It’s welcomed, Remus. It really is.”
They watch the sunset together and Remus stops worrying for the first time in a month. They will get through this. Remus is sure of it. The Marauders are anything but void, anything but ruined.
So Remus says, “We’ll fix this, we’ll get through this.” And receives a comforting squeeze in his shoulder for his conviction.
“Yeah, we will.”