Work Text:
Remus raised an eyebrow at the two of them and the little knapsack sitting between them on the bed. “I take it I’m going to be alone tonight then?” Peter was with Benjy in the Hufflepuff dormitory and had told them earlier that he was staying the night.
“We’ll be back later,” Sirius said.
Remus sighed, shaking his head. “I guess that’s better than staying here.” The first time they’d had sex in their room, Remus hadn’t been able to stand the lingering smell and an arrangement had to be made so he could actually live there. “Have fun, be safe.”
James winked at him. “Always.”
Remus just rolled his eyes and went back to his book-- it was a novel that he knew muggles his age were reading for school, and that was why he’d picked it up. He didn’t particularly enjoy it, but it let him feel connected to his mother’s world. His letters home felt more genuine now that they shared life experiences-- even if those experiences were reading terrible books and whinging about them.
He didn’t hear anything, but later something felt… wrong. He tried to shrug it off, but it was a persistent prickling on his neck and he couldn’t focus. He couldn’t see anything from the window, but that didn’t mean much. He grabbed his wand and left, heading down the stairs, and only doubting himself for a moment before exiting the common room.
The sense of unease heightened the more he walked, and he felt disturbingly out of his depth. He took a deep breath that did little to ground him. He was going to find James and Sirius, make sure they were okay, and get all of them back to the dormitory. ...That isn’t exactly what happened.
Professor McGonagall was ranting at them, cheeks red with emotion as she told them they should’ve stayed in the castle and “Under no circumstances should the three of you have attempted to fight. You’re students; you’re underage! When you saw the Death Eaters, you should have turned around and gone back to your dormitory. This is not one of your pranks! Being out of bed in the middle of the night was dangerous.”
She took a breath to continue, but James said, “People were getting hurt,” before she could.
“And it could’ve been you!”
“So we should have stood back and done nothing?” Sirius asked, fire in his eyes. “Plenty of people were doing that as it was, there wasn’t any need to add to it.”
“Minerva,” Professor Dumbledore cut in calmly. “It’s late. Perhaps we can continue this discussion tomorrow after we all get some sleep in us?”
“Of course Albus,” she said even though it was obvious she disagreed. “For Morgana’s sake boys, go to your dormitory and stay there until breakfast.” She paused, peering at them. “Were any of you hurt?”
They shook their heads, but she stared at them a while longer, trying to discern if they were lying. They weren’t, so she waved them off.
Across the country, Voldemort listened to the report of the battle. Bellatrix was spitting mad, wishing she had been there even though total destruction had not been the point of the attack and, had she gone, she would’ve left unsatisfied.
Potter and the traitor Black fought well, more trained for their age than they should have been. “They have potential,” he mused aloud.
Bellatrix sneered lightly, the remembrance of a disappointment rather than the active feeling of it. “My lord, I do not believe there is a force on this earth that could make my cousin support us. Where he goes, Potter goes; there’s no convincing them.”
He hummed tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair idly. “What of the other one?”
“Lupin, my lord,” one of them answered. Voldemort didn’t remember his name; he wasn’t important. “He’s a suspected werewolf.”
“A werewolf… Find Greyback. If that boy’s a werewolf, he knows. Besides,” he continued, more to himself and Bellatrix than anyone else, “perhaps it’s time we gain an ally.”
“My lord?” Bellatrix asked evenly. She hated werewolves, wanted them wiped from the face of the earth, but she wasn’t going to question his decision in public.
He glanced at her. “Everyone can use attack dogs.” And if it gained them a werewolf who was well trained in magic, then all the better.
Getting ready for bed was a quiet affair, Remus barely pausing to mutter “Goodnight” to them before closing the curtains.
By the time their own curtains were closed, James was shaking. Sirius wrapped his arms around him and kissed his head, whispering over and over that he was okay, he was safe.
“It feels real,” he eventually said. “I mean, I knew it was real, but it didn’t feel like it until tonight. We’re at war, and we have to fight.”
“We don’t have to.”
James laughed in a way that made it obvious he didn’t think anything was funny. “We’re going to choose to though.”
Sirius didn’t say anything for a little bit. “We’ll keep each other safe.” He kissed his head again. “I promise.”
