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February 15, 1981
“I’m telling you, something’s not right –
“Or maybe you’re just seeing what you want to see! We’re all on edge, Pads, we’re all paranoid –
“This isn’t just paranoia!”
Lily sighs down at Harry, sleeping peacefully in his crib, his favorite blanket clutched in one tiny fist. She can hear the heated voices from the sitting room even through the many spells she put on the nursery door. The hours spent getting Harry to sleep would amount to nothing if he wouldn’t stay that way.
“I don’t like this, Pads –
“See sense, James! It’s the most logical conclusion!”
Another minute of this and they’d wake Harry again. Lily takes one last look at her baby, wishing as she often did that she could be as unburdened, as oblivious, as simply happy as he always is. Part of her aches to just lie down next to him and sleep, hold him close, until they wake up together in the brighter world they’re all fighting for him to have.
Instead, she shakes her head and leaves to confront her husband, shutting the door softly behind her.
“Boys!” she hisses as she enters the sitting room. “Voices down, please! We’ve only just got Harry to sleep – if he wakes again, it’s on your head, Padfoot. Spend hours with him wailing in your ear, see how you like it,” she mutters, collapsing onto the sofa beside Sirius.
Sirius flings his arms around her immediately, pulling her in. “Sorry, love,” he kisses her forehead, “but I’ll have to wake him up anyway, won’t I? I couldn’t possibly leave without saying hello to my favorite godchild. And perhaps a rousing game of ‘throw James’s belongings all around the nursery?’” He looks innocently over at James, glaring back at him from his favorite armchair.
“You’ll have to stay for dinner, then,” Lily chuckles. “Maybe you can feed him his mushy peas tonight. James and I are fed up.”
“Got globs of it in my hair last night,” James grumbles.
“How is he anyway? Entirely justifiable hatred of peas aside.”
“Ugh,” Lily groans, nestling further into Sirius’s shoulder. “Darling, delightful, completely ungovernable.”
Sirius laughs.
“He’s wonderfully energetic,” James adds, grinning. “Gets it from me, I suppose.”
“Oh, you suppose?” Lily turns to glare at him. “Your son has the energy of a Niffler let loose in Gringotts.”
“I’ll have to buy him a racing broom for his birthday,” Sirius interjects.
Lily laughs as James groans.
“Please don’t. My stamina’s not what it used to be.”
“All the more reason,” Sirius retorts with a wink.
They fall into a comfortable silence for a few minutes, the kind Lily’s been missing lately. She thinks back to nights spent in the common room by the fire, frantically finishing up papers, practicing spells, or just enjoying each other’s company. Those moments had felt like they would last forever back then, and they feel long gone now. Which brings her mind to the thing she’s almost certain they’d been arguing about earlier.
“So,” she hesitates, savoring one last moment of peace, “what was all that shouting about?”
Immediately, the silence turns brittle. One glance at Sirius’s grim face confirms her suspicions.
“Oh, no. Not this again. Sirius, please.”
“I told him, Lily –
“I’m not just being paranoid.” There’s a hard edge to Sirius’s voice. “It adds up. And I don’t like it any more than you do.”
“Sirius!” Lily pulls away from him. “What possible reason could Remus have for selling out the Order to Voldemort?”
Sirius rakes a hand through his hair. “I don’t know! Fear, probably. Frustration, exhaustion, what have you – we’ve been at war, Lily, for so fucking long. We’re losing. We’re dying. Maybe it’s self-preservation. Maybe,” his laugh is hollow, bitter, “maybe he’s just been evil all along.”
“How could you say that? Especially about him! It’s Remus,” Lily pleads, looking to James for support. “Kind, quiet Remus, our Remus! We’ve always trusted him.”
“Yeah, mate, he wears socks to bed,” James adds. “He knits his own jumpers. Drinks chamomile tea. Not exactly Death Eater material.”
“I never said Death Eater. Informant, most-likely. Low-level spy stuff. We know Voldemort’s picky about his inner circle. Probably he passes information to be relayed to the higher-ups through Greyback –
“The man who bit him! Listen to yourself!”
“Werewolf attacks are on the rise, Lily. And always in areas under Order protection. They’re always ready to meet us. You know Marlene had a close call last month.”
“But that doesn’t necessarily mean –
“And who is our liaison to the werewolves?” Sirius pushes on. “Who spends months on end with them, cut off from contact with us? Who’s been in the room for every last planning meeting for every patrol that went wrong? Remus.” Sirius’s tone is final. “It makes sense.”
“What could the werewolves offer him that we couldn’t?” James asks.
“Protection, most likely,” Sirius sighs. “Or maybe… community. Belonging, like he could never really have with us, right?”
“Sirius,” Lily whispers, “no. How could you say that? We love him, he knows we love him.”
“But they would understand him, more deeply than we ever could.” Sirius looks down at his hands. “They would know his struggles, feel his pain. That’s a powerful thing. It’s why Dumbledore sent him out to find werewolves in the first place, to convince them to join us, or at least not to join up with Voldemort. Because they’d take it best coming from someone who understands them.”
“Maybe he doesn’t know he’s doing it,” James offers, unsure. “Maybe it’s like you said, he feels welcomed by them, and he trusts them too much and tells them things he shouldn’t, and they take advantage of that.”
“Maybe.”
Somehow, Lily doesn’t think Sirius believes it. The thought makes her stomach turn.
“You love him,” she says softly. “You love him, Sirius. You know him, better than either of us do, you always have. From our first day at Hogwarts.”
“That’s the problem.” Sirius’s voice is pained. He looks up at her with tears in his eyes. “I don’t think I know him anymore.”