Chapter Text
He was far too tired for twenty years old. The transformation this month, the first one alone since he was fourteen, had ravaged his body and he longed for the warm healing hands of Madam Pomphrey.
It was a night of firsts; first Hallowe’en without his friends in eleven years, first time in many years that he had hurt himself so bad that his consciousness hadn’t returned for longer than a few hours after moonset. He had lain on the orange and red blanketed floor of the Forest of Dean for five hours after the sun rose.
In the afternoon of October 31st, 1981, Remus Lupin slumped against the door of his apartment. He fumbled the key from his robes and clumsily shoved it into the keyhole. He was clutching his side, and favouring one of his legs as he dragged himself into the small flat. It was empty.
The emptiness was not unusual during the war, Remus and Sirius were hardly in the same place at one time, and recently their relationship had been strained. This full moon Sirius was supposed to go with Remus, just the two of them, as they had done for the last couple of years. At least that had been the plan before Sirius had been called out on a mission.
Remus liked the full moons with Sirius. They were able to escape the war, the constant ‘missions’, the balancing act that was shelving his emotions in the name of the ‘Greater Good’. He sighed, it did no good to him or his injuries to dwell on his anger at Dumbledore at this moment.
Remus limped to the bathroom and began to assess. His ankle was probably broken, it was twice it’s usual size and mottled purple and yellow. He knew he had a nasty cut on his ribs, but nothing felt broken in his upper body. He reached out to the bathroom cabinet, and he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His face was sunken and pale, and on the left side of his head the hair was matted with blood. Reaching a tentative hand up to touch it, he flinched, there was a large gash on the side of his head, pouring warm, sticky blood.
He tried to wrench his eyes away from the skeletal man that looked back at him, when he realized how old he looked. The war had taken decades off his life in three short years. He suddenly thought of his father, he couldn’t’ve been much more than ten years older than Remus was now. Whether he had transferred the anger he felt from the war, or his emotions were on the fritz because of the full moon, Remus felt anger towards the dead fool. He thought bitterly, You kill yourself over a werewolf son? How weak could you be? He spent a moment mentally bashing his father; Remus had surely been through a million times more suffering than Lyall had, and he was still here. Perhaps he was just stronger, perhaps he overestimated his father’s strength.
The gauze that had been balancing on the side of the sink fell to the floor and suddenly Remus was painfully aware that he had been ignoring his injuries. He tended to his ankle with a quick spell, and investigated his side.
After he bathed, combing the pieces of dried blood out of his wet curls, and carefully cleaning and bandaging his side, he dressed. It was well past three o’clock when Remus settled down on the couch with a book and a mug of tea. He knew he needed to sleep, but stubborn as he was, he decidedly stayed conscious, waiting for Sirius to return from whatever Order mission he was on.
Remus, not really reading the book in front of him, imagined sitting with Sirius, combing through his beautiful long hair, inhaling the scent. He wanted the whole world to stand still just so he could relive the precious moments with Sirius when it felt like they were actually young and in love, instead of just pretending.
~~~
Remus woke with a small start, the mug that had been balancing on his chest as he slept tipped over and spilled the remaining tea on his sweater. “At least it’s cold” he said out loud for no particular reason. He lifted his head off of the cushion and it began to throb horribly.
Remus stumbled to the small kitchen, his ankle still tender, but mending, and shuffled around in the cupboard for the painkilling potions that Marlene had insisted he store for this exact reason. He found one and drank the bottle, it left a stomach-clenching bitter taste in his mouth. He turned around and looked out the window, it was now dark and the few stars that weren’t blocked by clouds glittered softly.
Glancing at the digital oven clock, he saw it was 10pm. And then he felt an anxious fluttering in his ribs. It took him a second to realize exactly why he felt anxious, and then he remembered, Sirius. Sirius had been on that Order mission for almost twenty-four hours now! Something had gone wrong, Remus was sure of it. No mission lasted that long.
Remus strode over to the fireplace and grabbed a fist of floo powder. He jabbed his wand at the ashen logs and flames burst into life, dancing merrily, contrasting the cold dread that had settled in his stomach. There must be at least one person at Order Headquarters, Remus thought, and he threw the powder at the flames and they flickered emerald.
Sticking his head in, he said clearly “The Potter’s, Order Headquarters.” He felt a sickening spinning, and then he opened his eyes, and gazed out into the living room of the Potter’s living room. “Hello?” Remus said, loudly.
No response.
“Hello?!” Remus said again, a bit of desperation creeping into his voice, “Is anyone there?” This call seemed successful as he heard footsteps hurrying around the corner.
Mary McDonald, dressed in purple robes, hurried over. Remus looked at her face, there were tears streaking down her face and her eyes were red and puffy. “Oh Remus!” She sobbed.
Remus’s stomach leadened. Something had gone wrong with the mission. Remus’s mouth filled with sand but he choked out, “What’s wrong? Is Sirius okay?”
Mary blinked, and then her face melted into sorrow again, “Oh you haven’t heard!”
Remus became horribly aware of his body, still anchored back in his flat, and all the blood drained from his face. “Haven’t heard what? What ha-” But Remus was cut off by a pounding on the door of his apartment. “Oh shit, Mary I have to go” and he pulled his head out of the fireplace. He banged his head on the mantle.
“Fuck” He murmured, rubbing it, and then it came again,
BANG BANG BANG
The door rattled on it’s hinges. And from outside a muffled voice came, “Moony!”
BANG BANG BANG
Relief flooded his body: It was Sirius. He didn’t sound hurt, or in mortal peril either. He sounded urgent though.
Remus closed the distance between the fireplace and the door in two strides. He wrenched it open and standing in the hallway was Sirius. Remus scanned him quickly, there was no blood or anything to suggest any injury. The only thing that was abnormal was the small wrapped up blanket that he held in his arms. Sirius smelled like himself, his shampoo, his distinct body odor and motor oil, but there was another acrid smell that lingered around him, and emanated from the bundle in his arms. Remus remembered the scent from his encounters with Deatheaters while on duty for the Order: Dark Magic.
Finally, Remus looked into Sirius’s eyes. They were wild and crazed, there was ash in his hair and on the shoulders of his thin cotton shirt. Sirius opened his mouth, and something very small and very quiet sounded out.
“W-what?” Remus verbalized.
“Peter” Sirius responded, his voice shaking and only slightly audible this time.
“What about Peter?” Remus asked, and then panic seized him as he remembered Mary, crying at Order Headquarters. “Did they get Peter? Is he okay?”
Sirius just shook his head and then extended the bundle of blanket out towards Remus. He took it from Sirius, and looked down. A small face was swaddled in the blankets, with a tuft of jet black hair sticking out, and something new. A horrible red mark was still bleeding on the babe’s forehead, and when Remus looked at it, the smell of Dark Magic overwhelmed him.
“How’d Harry get this mark?” Remus asked very quietly, matching Sirius’s volume.
“Peter.” Sirius repeated hoarsely, and then he turned and started walking back down the hall.
Remus looked at him, confusion and terror still bubbling up in him, “Oi! Sirius!” He yelled after him, “How’d Harry get the mark?” Sirius kept walking. “Sirius! What’s going on?!” Remus bellowed down the hall. He heard the crack of apparition, and then silence.
Remus looked down at the small alien in his arms, who had awoken after all the yelling and was looking up at him through Lily’s eyes.