Work Text:
Stark naked nights were only enough if you could sleep through them. It had been a while of Remus not being able to.
Alongside the other werewolves, he was nothing but an animal trying to fit into the wrong pack. His pack was quite different — made up of a stag who forever knew the path, a rat so trusting it stayed by the predators, and a big black dog that was his joy simplified. Their scents by themselves were enough to calm Remus and the wolf he became at every full moon.
But Remus had never paused to wonder how one's pack could so easily fall apart.
His did, on the Halloween of 1981.
October 31st brought around pumpkins and kids dressed as ghosts, but 1981 was a year of war. Halloween was an afterthought.
It was that fateful day within which Remus, battered to the bone, picked up the ringing telephone and held it to his ear, only to hear his worst fear come alive.
"Remus, something awful has happened."
He wanted to watch the world burn before ever hearing those words.
###
Betrayal.
Peter tasted it on his tongue. Except this time, he was the betrayer.
The Dark Lord's cold, clammy fingers latched onto his shoulder, and the snaky man whispered words into Peter's ears, so soft and arrogant and beckoning — so undeniably something Peter wanted.
"Betrayal," Peter murmured.
The Dark Lord nodded, a slow, slimy grin stretching across his taunt skin. A ghastly sight, but it provoked fear in Peter that had him keeling over. "Betrayal," the Dark Lord confirmed, careless. "Only the powerful can manage betrayal, Pettigrew."
He had left Peter on the floor, two of the three Unforgivables casted on Peter's dummied body.
"Do not disappoint me."
"Never... never ever, my Lord."
Pathetic.
Peter Pettigrew was a pathetic man, and now he was paying the price.
###
Sirius screamed.
His lungs could not carry the weight of his heart, so all he could do was kneel next to the corpse of his best friend, and scream.
James is dead, Sirius thought, choking and unable to breathe.
James's cracked glasses reflected off the shattered image of Lily's dead body. Across the floor, blood scattered everywhere. There was no sign of Harry.
Sirius continued to scream.
Peter was standing at the doorway, watching with horror. When Sirius saw him, he immediately knew.
Rage.
Hot, consuming, effortless.
"I'm going to kill you!" Sirius screamed, pointing his wand towards Peter so fiercely it might've automatically done the killing itself.
"You won't," Peter squeaked.
That stupid rat.
Sirius lunged.
It was too late.
Peter left him a finger and transformed, his little rat figure making its escape.
Sirius fell to floor, knocked unconscious by a sudden heavy weight.
The next time Sirius woke up, he was being taken away to Azkaban, guilty of killing his best friend in the entire fucking world and James's lovely rosy-cheeked wife, the astounding Lily Evans.
What. A. Joke.
Revenge pooled itself at Sirius's chest. One day, he told himself, one day I will kill Peter Pettigrew for what he did.
Oh sweet betrayal.
###
Remus saw the papers. Remus knew the truth. Remus wanted to die.
Because Sirius Black had killed James and Lily and Peter, and it sounded so fucking unbelievable.
But there Remus was, believing it all.
Sirius had not just been his friend. Sirius had been his home.
Sirius Black had been Remus Lupin's lover, and Sirius Black had betrayed them all.
It worried Remus, that when the next full moon came by, the wolf howled to the moon — wishing for the dead stag, the dead rat, and even the traitorous dog.
The next full moon and the one after that, Remus's scarred body only grew more scars.
###
"Obliviate," Mary whispered.
She hated herself.
She hated everything.
She'd rather forget than live with it all.
So Mary MacDonald stood in front of the mirror, released a shaky breath, and whispered, "Obliviate."
There were worse things in life than relating to Snape, she supposed, because in that moment, the last thing she could remember before never remembering again was the beautiful flaming ginger hair and gentle forest green eyes of Lily Evans Potter.
###
Sirius stared at the moon, counting his days, crying and pouring his soul to the glowing orb in the sky.
The moon cherished the stars.
Sirius hoped, desperately, that it still did.
###
Quiet.
Remus's life was filled with quiet.
No more would he find happiness.
Just like the moon would no more find its shining star.