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The musty tapestries, the lacquered wood of the staircases, the heady scent of children – their bodies sweaty and aching with burgeoning adulthood. It is those smells that transport him back to a time when life had been rich, vibrant and so painfully worth living. The reality of returning to Hogwarts has shattered his hope that this place somehow had preserved, like a fly held in amber, the happiness he’d once felt here.
Out of the four of them, he was the one that should have predicted the brutality of their future. He should have felt it in his bones that broke and remade his form, stretching his flesh into a preternaturally vicious shape. He should have recognized that the world was submitting to darkness as easily as his own mind gave itself to madness each month. He should have read between the white puckered scars across his body – evil would inevitably ravage everything. And that ironically he, the one with a mutinous monster inside, would be the only one to survive.
The walk from the emptied Great Hall to his new office isn’t particularly long but it seems to him a gallows’ walk. He turns the corner and suddenly, within the flickering torchlight, he can see round-faced Peter, eyes sparkling, cheeks flushed with excitement. He was forever chasing after them, his short legs always a few paces behind. His hand clapped over his mouth as if he might just explode with the thrill of their hijinks, his joy contagious.
Peter - a bloody crater in the ground
He hurries on, if he can just make it to his office, he can start to unpack his things, find a place for everything, lose himself in the task so he won’t be crushed by memory. A small clutch of students crosses the corridor at the far end of the hallway. They’re the students from his compartment on the train and the boy - the boy - laughs sharply and it carries. His ears ring with that noise, every variant of it. The hearty noise James made while they plotted their pranks, each boy tucked in bed but their hangings open. The chuckle that came weakly when James had made a fool of himself in front of Lily for the hundredth time. The desperate gasps when James laughed so hard he couldn’t breathe because his mates had surprised him once more with their joie de vivre.
James - a dead body beside his dead wife
He turns back and begins to run, too ashamed to check if anyone sees him as he flies down the corridor. He must get away from here. Away from the sight of Peter’s shining eyes. Away from the sound of James’s laugh. He takes a hard right and makes a break for the front door. He can’t- He can’t breathe!
Stumbling out into the night, he trips down the stairs, landing in a rumpled heap on the grass. He rolls onto his back and shuts his watering eyes, blocking out the blurry, pinprick stars above. The night is blessedly silent, the air unburdened by the oppressive odor of the castle.
And that is when he finally feels the thing that he’s been dreading.
They’d been fighting like muggle boys, no wands, just slapping and shoving and throwing soft punches in jest. It was the canine in them both, an echo of how the dog wrestled with the wolf. But Sirius had pushed too hard, knocking them both off balance. They’d fallen to the ground in a mess of long legs and swears. Sirius’s heavy frame had landed on top of him, their hearts pounding from the exertion of the fight or perhaps from the closeness of their bodies. His breath had caught as Sirius’s lips pressed against his own - rough, pleading. He had kissed him back. And then desire driven by instinct had had him clawing at Sirius’s hips, twisting just below the waistband. They’d pressed against each other completely, the surprise of their mirrored want exhilarating.
Sirius – an anguished scream
He pounds a fist against the ground before standing. He’s always felt old in his broken body but tonight he can feel his feet sinking deep into his early grave. Turning towards the still open door, he strides back into Hogwarts. He will live here again. He will walk these halls with his two ghosts. And he will carry the knife that’s been twisted in his heart- a silver blade left there by the man whom he desperately wishes that he could wish were dead.
Remus - an echo