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“Harry’s meeting us at one for lunch,” Remus said as he glanced around at the busy main street of Hogsmeade. “We’ve got an hour to kill, what shall we do?”
“Madam Puddifoots?” Sirius smirked, “never could get you to agree to a date there.”
“And you never will.” Remus turned his nose up but a small smile stayed on his lips, “want to go to Zonko's and make fun of their stuff?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Things with Sirius were better than they’d ever been before. Without the weight of the war on their shoulders and with the threat of being discovered lifted, it felt like they were seventeen again - drunk on love and stupid enough to pretend that nothing could ever hurt them. Except this time it was forever, and not just the forever they’d promised each other in the corner of the library between kisses and classes, but the forever that gave him a gold band on his left finger and a shared surname.
It suited them, Remus thought. The two months since the trial had seen them both recover the youth that had been stolen from them. Sirius no longer looked in the mirror and saw features that were a carbon copy of his cousin Bellatrix, but shiny hair his mother could never keep short for long, and grey eyes that were bright and full of life. Remus felt different too. He was laughing again and the silence that had followed him from job to aimless job, to lonely rundown apartments and through torturous full moons had given way to a patchwork home and days full of love.
It was a far cry from the dark days of the past. Time spent watching days tick by, wondering if he could have done anything differently, staring at the scars he’d received from the werewolves he’d been spying on - scars he’d received the day Harry had received his. He would never know how Sirius had felt locked in his cell, wondering why no one was coming to save him. Sirius would never understand how much Remus had begged for someone to listen, how many times he’d vouched for him. But that was okay. They could never understand each other’s experiences over the last twelve years but they listened and they cared and they supported each other through everything. That was what counted, and that was what they’d vowed to keep doing for the rest of their lives.
--
Harry had asked them to meet him in the Three Broomsticks, and it was only because Remus remembered the draw of the place from his own teenage years that he didn’t say no.
The pub was packed with students and teachers alike and, as they opened the door and bundled in, Remus wished he were shorter. He grabbed attention whether he liked it or not due to his skinny frame towering above most others, the scars on his face a curiosity for anyone who looked. At least now the eyes that snapped to him slid ever so quickly to the man next to him. Remus smiled, at least this was familiar. Sirius always did steal the attention of whatever room he’d walked into, and now was no different. Twelve years in Azkaban had stolen Sirius’ youth, but had left him with the type of beauty you couldn’t look away from. He was eerily beautiful with the dark hair and sharp features that revealed his Black ancestry, but the life that was etched into every laugh line and the happiness that lit up his grey eyes were something his family had never been so lucky to achieve. He was strength in the face of unimaginable hardship and people gravitated towards it.
“Sirius! Remus!” Harry shouted them over from the small table he’d secured in the corner of the pub.
Sirius bounded off towards his godson immediately, yanking Remus along with him. He smiled apologetically at the people they bumped on the way over.
Harry hugged them both when he saw them, so unlike any other fourteen year old boy who wouldn’t be caught dead meeting his guardians on his precious weekends off.
“So,” Harry began with his voice pitched low, looking just like James did whenever he was announcing his next hare-brained plan. One look at Sirius and he knew they were thinking the same thing. “I’ve been thinking, and can Ron and Hermione come to stay this summer? We have the rooms all done up now, right? And Ron has loads of ideas for the wedding - did you know he’s been to twenty weddings? I’ve never even been to one. And anyway he said his second cousin - or was it third cousin once removed - Gerald married some German wizard called Fredrik last summer and they had a snitch themed wedding cake, how cool is that? So then I was thinking -”
Remus thunked his head against the table as Sirius rocked back in his chair and laughed, loud enough to draw the attention of half the room. Harry was the perfect mixture of his parents - excitable and one-track minded like James, with the stubborn, loyal kindness of Lily, and it showed in moments like this.
Harry's cheeks darkened with embarrassment and he mumbled, “and Hermione wants to check out our library.”
“I’ll take Hermione, you and Sirius can deal with Ron.” Remus despaired at the thought of what his upcoming wedding was going to be like with what was essentially three children planning it. “But no snitch themed cake.”
The betrayed looks that were sent his way would have swayed a lesser man. Thankfully Remus had plenty of experience ignoring that look and simply beckoned Madam Rosmerta over to take their order.
--
Saying goodbye to Harry that evening was painful. Lunch had turned into walking around Hogsmeade which had led them to bump into Ron, who really did have a lot to say about weddings, and Hermione, who did have a burning desire to read every book in the Black library.
But the knowledge of the looming third task was ever present at the back of Remus’ mind. Harry seemed happy knowing that it was all going to be over soon, win or lose, and not having a cryptic clue nor the sight of dragons to think over was definitely helping him.
As he and Sirius apparated back home though, it was the only thing Remus could think about. He went straight for the kettle, flicking it on with his wand, and leant against the countertop while he waited for it to brew. The marble edge of the counter dug uncomfortably into the small of his back.
“Harry seems happy,” Sirius busied himself with pulling out their favourite mugs. “And how great are Ron and Hermione?”
“I just don’t buy it,” Remus hadn’t heard a word Sirius had said, too busy trying to connect the dots in his mind.
“Don’t buy what...Harry being happy?”
“No!” Remus waved a hand in the air vaguely, “I don’t buy this whole thing...this happy ever after.”
“You don’t believe in our happy ever after? What? You don’t want to get married?”
Remus snapped his head up at that, finally registering the tone of Sirius’ voice. He mentally backtracked, thinking through what they’d both just said.
“Christ, Sirius! Of course I want to get married, I’d have married you years ago. No, I don’t buy that this is it. That Harry will get through one more task then it’s over, we’re happy, there’s peace. I don’t buy it.”
“Oh…”
“Idiot,” Remus pulled Sirius into him. For how confident he always seemed, Sirius had always had moments like this, where he didn’t believe himself worthy of something good. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap, it’s just like I’m walking round waiting for the other shoe to drop the whole time. I just -”
“I feel the same.”
“You do?”
“Mmm, but I didn’t know if I was just, ya’know. Stuck in my head. Like the dementors made me.” The words were mumbled into his shoulder.
“I thought you said you’d tell me when that happened, so I could help -” He was cut off by Sirius stealing a kiss. “You can’t just kiss me when you don’t want to talk about your feelings you know.”
“Mmhmm,” Remus couldn’t help melting into him, despite his words. “I talk about it enough with Dr Genovesa, but I don’t get to kiss her, do I?”
“Better not. Anyway, don’t distract me. What are we going to do about the third task? Don’t you feel like something’s going to happen?”
“I don’t know,” Sirius was biting his lip, the telltale sign of his stress. When he’d come back from Azkaban his lips had been bitten raw. “I’m going to write to Minnie later, see what she knows.’
“Don’t flirt with her too much.” He turned to finish making their tea, a smile on his face. “I’ll get jealous.”
--
'Dear Minnie,
We saw Harry today and he seems happy, but Remus and I are still worried. There are so many unanswered questions about this tournament and why he’s in it in the first place. Remus is worried whoever put his name in the cup is planning something for the third task. Do you know what it’s going to be?
I know you will have checked it all out, but we’d feel better if we could check it firsthand. Not that we don’t trust you - you’re still the fiercest witch I’ve ever met (and in more ways than one).
Say the word and I’m yours,
Sirius'
--
'Sirius Black, stop your charming.
You can come to the school if you bring your better half with you. The third task is a maze. The Champions will face numerous spells, traps, and creatures in there. They have, of course, all been thoroughly checked over by the senior staff.
The maze is on the quidditch pitch (yes, I’m horrified), once you’re here send me a patronus and I’ll meet you there.
Come at eleven tomorrow morning.
Minerva McGonagall
Head of Gryffindor House'
--
They apparated to Hogsmeade and made the walk up to the school in relative silence. Remus was too stuck in his own head to enjoy the warm weather or the rare sight of Sirius without his leather jacket on. He just hoped that looking through this maze would give them the answers they needed.
The maze was immediately obvious as they walked down to the quidditch pitch. The normally pristine grass was covered in giant hedges, all at least nine foot tall, which created shadows so dark you couldn’t see more than a few metres in despite the sunny day.
“This is a nightmare,” Sirius moaned beside him.
“I know, I can’t believe they’re sending kids in there -”
“The quidditch pitch will never look the same again!”
Of course. Remus cuffed Sirius around the head, “just send Minnie a patronus you oaf.”
Sirius’ patronus jumped out of his wand, a silvery Padfoot who never failed to put a smile on Remus’ face. The reflection of Sirius’ soul was the part of himself he’d set aside just for him. Remus was always awed in the face of that fact.
He watched the patronus bound away towards the castle and huffed a surprised laugh when Sirius wrapped him in his arms and pressed a kiss high on his cheek.
“You’re such a sap.”
“Speak for yourself.” Remus turned so he could kiss him properly, “your patronus was made for me.”
A laugh broke them apart.
“Boys,” Minnie said, “this brings back memories.”
“Don’t -” Remus didn’t need to think about the time Minerva had caught him kissing Sirius goodbye outside her NEWT transfiguration class. She’d made Sirius transfigure heart shaped balloons out of dust in front of the whole class for that.
“Jokes on you Minnie,” Sirius grinned, “even you were impressed I pulled that off, admit it.”
“What’s more impressive is you haven’t scared Mr Lupin off yet.” She started walking towards the entrance to the maze, “quickly, don’t waste my time.”
--
The maze was frustratingly simple. The traps and puzzles the Champions would face were fiendish in places, but they weren’t impossible and they didn’t hide any concealed Dark magic. They found their way to the gleaming trophy in just under forty minutes.
“Here, catch,” Sirius chucked the cup at him like it was a quaffle, and Remus only just managed to grab it. Quidditch had never been his strong suit. It was a heavy thing, old silver scratched with age but still shining despite it. Filch must have been getting students in detention to polish it for months. Remus held it up to his eye, twisting it this way and that, but all he could see were the etchings of names - past Champions who had been promised glory but who had been forgotten with time. The thought of Harry’s name joining the others didn’t give him any joy.
Remus put the cup back down.
--
'Dear Minnie,
We’ve accepted that we can’t stop Harry entering that maze, but we haven’t accepted that there’s nothing we can do.
Here’s the plan:
During the task Remus and I will patrol the maze - me as Padfoot, Remus under the invisibility cloak. If you’re amiable, you’ll keep a close eye on the staff and students and raise the alarm if anything unusual happens.
Rem and I will intervene only if things get out of hand in the maze. In that case we’ll try and get Harry to the cup as soon as possible to put an end to the entire thing.
Here’s where we need your help - Remus and I need to be seen in the audience otherwise it will raise a lot of suspicion. So we need polyjuice and we need two willing partners to become us for the evening, and we think we know just the duo.
Agreed?
Sirius'
--
'Dear Sirius,
Agreed. Fred and George will be delighted. I’ll brief them after dinner this evening, they have detention anyway.
Come to my office on the day of the task with suitable outfits for Mr and Mr Weasley and I’ll get you to the maze unseen.
Minerva'
--
Fred and George were uncharacteristically serious when they arrived in Minerva’s office. They shook hands with Sirius and Remus with smiles, but pulled out the polyjuice potion without flourish. It was so unlike the boys Remus remembered from his defence lessons last year that he had to check if they were okay.
“You don’t have to do this, you know.”
“What?” Fred said, “no. We want to help, we want to do our bit.”
“Yeah, Harry’s in danger right?” George looked grim. “He’s practically another little brother. We’ve been looking out for him since he joined the quidditch team in first year.”
“If this helps then we’re in.” Then he smirked, true to form. “Plus, I’ve always wanted to try polyjuice.”
Remus was touched by the sincerity in their voices. He knew Harry thought of the Weasley’s as family, but he always thought that was mostly because of Ron and Molly, but he could see now he was wrong. He cleared his throat and plucked a small, wavy brown hair from his head.
“Who’s unlucky enough to be me?”
To his surprise, Fred and George fought over it. Sirius laughed at the look on his face, “after all this time you still don’t believe you’re handsome, do you?”
“It’s the scars,” Fred said.
“Very je ne sais quoi,” George nodded.
“You lot don’t speak French, do you?” Sirius was still laughing as he took a long black hair from his own head and plopped it unceremoniously in George’s vial of potion. The surface bubbled and spat for a few seconds before it settled on a deep midnight blue. It almost looked like it had stars in it.
Too busy looking at George, who’d downed the potion in one, Remus missed his own hair turn Fred’s potion into a warm, chocolatey brown.
“Wow,” Sirius said as he looked their dopplegangers over, “people aren’t exaggerating when they say we look good together.”
“Oh for the love of -”
--
The music and fanfare of the third task rang in Remus’ ears as he waited, invisible, inside the maze. He was so deep in the maze he couldn’t see the crowd, or any daylight at all, the tall hedges seeming to close in on him from every side. He was standing by a section of hedge that was spelled to spit curses whenever someone tried to pass and his nervous pacing had triggered three stupefies and two petrificus totalus jinxes already.
It was eerily quiet even though the Champions had been sent in over half an hour before.
“Diffindo!”
The shout broke the silence, but it wasn’t the voice Remus needed to hear. The deep voice belonged to someone much older than Harry. He peered around the corner and watched Cedric Diggory try to fight his way out of a patch of Devil’s Snare.
Think! We went over this in defence last year; you need to use light.
As soon as the thought crossed his mind a bright beam of light shot out at the plant until it cowered back, but it hadn’t come from Cedric’s wand.
Harry stood, panting. “Devil’s Snare, Devil’s Snare, it likes the cold and damp, but light it up with a lamp to give it a nasty scare.”
“Thanks Harry,” Cedric pushed a hand through his sweaty hair, “don’t suppose you know where the cup is as well?”
“Nope,” Harry laughed, “but I’d avoid turning left out of here. There’s a whole load of blast-ended Skrewts round that corner.”
And with that, Harry disappeared. Remus darted after him as quickly as he could, but by the time he rounded the corner there was no trace of him left.
He wandered around the maze, checking every pathway twice, but there was still no sign of Harry. He was getting worried, every turn without seeing his head of messy black hair was another stab in his side.
Then finally, something.
The pure silver light of a patronus blinded him, and Remus instinctively put a hand to his eyes to shield them from the light. The light moved around him, and though he knew logically that patronuses didn’t give off warmth, this one seemed to. Remus opened his eyes.
Prongs was in front of him. As regal and proud as the last day he’d seen him, prouder still for living through the son that had conjured him. Remus had seen Harry’s patronus before, but never like this. The feeble attempts he’d managed last year had been nothing compared to the magnificent stag before him now. His heart grew three sizes in pride, and longing, and love.
Prongs reached out his delicate muzzle and butted him on the forehead before turning and galloping off down the dark path in front of them. Remus stumbled forward. He would always follow where that light led.
Harry stood in the centre of a pathway, the light from his patronus dancing around him, protecting him from the dementor boggart that hovered just on the edges of the silver threads. Padfoot was by his side, Prongs next to him. The sight of the best friends together again, standing strong by Harry’s side was almost too much to bear.
Sirius stood where Padfoot had just been. He stared and stared at the patronus, his hand raising of its own accord to try and hold on, to try and feel something at all from the form of his brother. The vague warmth was all that was there.
“James…” Sirius breathed.
Remus made an aborted move forward, and Sirius snapped his neck around. He lowered the cloak and stepped forward, taking Sirius’ hand. Prongs bowed his proud head to them and vanished.
“What are you doing here?” Harry hissed at them, his voice low but full of anger.
“Making sure you’re okay.” Remus used his teacher's voice, the one that brooked no arguments. “I don’t trust this tournament.”
“I don’t want you to help me. I’m not going to cheat my way to a win.” Harry’s green eyes were blazing with anger, no doubt feeling like they didn’t trust him to look after himself. Remus didn’t have time to explain that it was everyone else they didn’t trust.
“You’re fourteen, Harry. The others already have an unfair advantage on you.”
“Remus is right.” Sirius had recovered enough to step forward, “we aren’t letting you do this alone. The cup’s only a few rows that way, let’s go.”
“You’re not coming with me!”
“Harry.” They’d never had to be strict with him before. “I’m not letting anything happen to you because you’re being proud. Like it or not, we’re with you.”
Harry gritted his teeth and nodded, letting them follow, one invisible and one canine companion, as he turned in the direction Sirius pointed out. Just as Sirius had said, the cup came into view a few minutes later. The only thing that stood in their way was a group of rowdy pixies.
“I guess this is it then,” Harry said and reached a hand out to the cup.
A few things happened all at once.
The cup glowed bright blue. Harry gave a sickening lurch forward off the ground. Padfoot leapt through the air to try and reach him. Remus instinctively grabbed hold of Harry’s sleeve.
Padfoot flew through the air and landed on grass, alone.
The cup was gone, and Remus and Harry were gone with it.
--
The nauseating pull of a portkey was all Remus registered before he landed with a grunt, pulling Harry onto him so he didn’t take the brunt of the fall. His cloak fell off his shoulders, exposing his head and torso to the damp, chilly air - weather different to the clear evening they’d left behind.
“Kill the wolf,” a high, terrible voice said.
“ Vivere dolor.”
A flash of green light lit up his eyes. Great slashes of agony ripped across Remus’ face and he twisted on the ground, still wrapped up in the cloak. He felt small hands clasp at his shoulders, heard a voice as if from a distance shouting at him to be okay. The pain was on his chest now. Pinpricks, like the feeling of cursed claws ripping into his own skin. This was pain he knew.
The hands that had been shaking him and fluttering around his head disappeared. Remus knew enough to know that the hands belonged to Harry and he fought to open his eyes to see what was happening, but the pain was too great and all he could see was darkness.
--
He was consumed by the pain in his body. The reawakening of scars, the rebreaking of bones long healed. It was the pain he experienced every month on the full moon, but never like this, never for this long.
Through the dense fog of pain he registered very little. He struggled, his mind yearning for him to give into the pain but his heart beating to keep him awake. There was someone more important than him, suffering while he lay there giving into his own pain.
His eyelids opened and he saw the terrible shape of a being, not quite man, rise out of a bubbling cauldron.
--
A shout of pain worked its way into Remus’ head, bouncing around until alarm bells rang and he forced his body to obey him. He pushed against the earth which had gone damp and muddy from his blood and forced down the nausea that rose up in him as his head lost its earthy pillow.
“No,” he managed to croak out. Harry, tied to a gravestone; Voldemort, his finger touching the scar on Harry’s head; Death Eaters, jeering and laughing. The images flickered in his patchwork vision, each sight searing itself into his memory.
It all stopped as Voldemort stepped back and looked his way. Red eyes met his own. The pain tripled as he was forced to relive his worst moments again. A cruel, high pitched laugh grated his ears.
“It looks like we have a guest...the wolf with feelings, the wolf who loves. ” Remus was lifted into the air and dropped at Harry’s feet. Invisible bands kept him from moving an inch. “The werewolf spy. The one who taints the House of Black. If Wormtail is to be believed, he’s the one who cares for our dear Harry Potter. ”
“He is not without talent. No, he has some skill. If he’d only joined his wolf brothers and sisters he could stand here with us. Instead he lies in the dirt at the feet of a boy who lived by chance...Wormtail, show him what happens to traitors and half-breeds.”
Peter stepped forward and raised his wand in a shining, silver hand. Remus stared into his small eyes. This was a man he would have died for, once.
“ Crucio.”
The pain in his body ramped up, but he fought the urge to scream. If Peter was going to do this, he’d have to mean it. He’d have to look him in the eye and want him to hurt.
“Weak,” the high voice hissed, and the pain dropped back down. “What is your use, Wormtail, if you can’t even hate a wolf like him.”
“Don’t call him that.” Harry’s voice cut above the laughter of the cloaked figures. Remus tried again to sit up, the bravery in his godson’s voice spurring him into action. He found he could move, but he didn’t get far before Voldemort cut him down with another “ crucio”. The pain was worse than any he’d ever experienced. It ran through him white hot, coursing through the still bleeding scars Peter’s original curse was still causing. He couldn’t stop the scream that was ripped from his throat, but it wasn’t enough to drown out Harry’s pained shout. “STOP IT!”
“Very well,” the pain stopped at once, although the effects of the curse still echoed around his body. “Untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand. You have been taught to duel, Harry Potter?”
Remus’ heart stopped at those words. He got to his feet, his wand miraculously safe in his hand. He stood as tall as he could while his ribs broke inside him again and again in a cruel cycle, no longer even registering the sick crack they made each time. The pain blurred into background noise in the face of Harry’s trial.
“Always someone willing to stand in front of you and die, isn’t there Harry Potter? His sacrifice won’t protect you like your mudblood mother’s did, but if you insist on trying I shall...honour your choice. See how love fairs against me this time.”
“Love...isn’t...weak,” Remus managed to get the words out, “and...neither...are...we.”
He raised his wand and pushed every inch of magic he had into his spell, every bit of love he felt for Harry into the meaning behind the words, “ Protego maxima!”
The shield pulsed out from his wand and held strong against the curses thrown their way. Every jolt of energy that hit the shield chipped at its defenses, but it was enough, had to be enough to hold them back.
“Harry,” he gritted his teeth and forced the words out, “Cloak...cup.”
His arm was shaking with the force of the spell and the shield was faltering. The Death Eaters were volleying hit after hit his way and the steady green light emanating from Voldemort’s wand could only be one thing. If the shield fell, he’d die. If the shield fell, he’d fail Harry.
Harry grabbed a handful of his jumper and Remus could feel the strength in his grip despite how hard he was shaking. The cloak rested over his arm.
“Ready?” Harry whispered.
“Do it!”
“ Accio cup!” Remus didn’t let his attention falter from his shield for a second, but he heard the metallic ring of the cup as it soared through the air towards them. It landed in Harry’s arms with a thud and they were pulled through space for the second time that night, the blue light of his shield the only thing he could see.
--
They hit the ground. Remus wanted to hold Harry against him, to protect him like he had before, but his arms were too weak, his whole body too drained to do anything.
The stars were blinking above them now, the rain from the graveyard leaving behind a clear night. The half moon was mocking him. Why should he feel this bad when the moon was only half awake?
Harry’s ragged breathing was the only thing he knew in that moment. Distantly, he heard the screams of the crowd and the pounding of feet on the grass.
Arms that stole Harry’s warmth from his side, hands that brushed hair away from his face, the strands sticking in his blood and pulling at the wounds, one voice closer than the others, calling for him.
Remus opened his eyes to see Harry safe in Sirius’ arms and grey eyes staring straight at him.
He let himself drift.
--
“What curse hit him?”
Remus’ head was groggy with pain but he woke up as he was moved, alertness coming to him as adrenaline coursed through his body. Harry. Where was Harry?
“I’m here Moony,” Harry’s voice reached him when his eyes couldn’t focus on anything in particular. He slumped back down, his head hitting a soft pillow. The smell of the room was strong with healing potions. “I didn’t recognise the curse. Something like...Viv-er-vive dol...or something like that?”
“Vivere dolor, ” Sirius breathed. “To relive pain. All his old injuries, all the pain from the transformations...shit, Remus.”
“And then,” Harry’s voice was getting too quiet for Remus to make out, but he heard what he said next. “Then they used the cruciatus curse. V-Voldemort did it when Pettigrew couldn’t.”
Madame Pomfrey must have done something then, as the blood which had been flowing from his scars into his eye suddenly stopped. She wiped at his face with a warm cloth and spelled the worst of it away. He opened his eyes fully. More people than he expected were crowded around his bedside. Sirius and Harry were almost sitting on the bed, and if it weren’t for Pomfrey’s bustling and tutting, Remus was sure they would be. Fred and George, still the spitting image of he and Sirius, were trying to peek over Dumbledore’s shoulder. Minerva was talking quietly to Ron and Hermione.
“Harry,” Remus managed to croak out. “Are you okay?”
“Me? I don’t care about -”
“Harry, please.”
“I’m fine.”
“Sirius?”
“He’s been checked Re, he’s okay.”
At that confirmation Remus nodded and let his head loll back against the pillow, falling straight into unconsciousness.
--
The next time Remus woke it was to the same view he had had every full moon at Hogwarts. Body aching and sore in a bed warm with healing charms and Poppy Pomfrey’s comforting blend of magic, with Sirius sitting in the chair next to his bed, his clever fingers twirling his wand and creating flowers and little origami shapes that were left littered over the bedside table. If he squinted, the boy in the bed next to his could even have been James.
“I’m sorry,” this part was familiar too, as was the knowing look Sirius sent his way.
“Harry told us what happened. You saved him, why are you saying sorry?”
“I couldn’t stop it, Siri. He’s back. Voldemort is back. He hurt Harry. I’m sorry.”
“The plot was bigger than we knew Re. You’ve been out a while, you see and…”
“What happened?”
“Barty Crouch Jr. He had Moody locked in a chest and was taking polyjuice all year. He’s the one that set up the portkey.”
Remus blinked a few times and shook his head. He couldn’t make sense of it. But as he opened his eyes and looked around he saw, on the bed to his right, the skinny shell of a man who could only be Alastor Moody.
“They got a full veritaserum confession from him. He’s on his way back to Azkaban as we speak. Probably already there.”
Tears pricked at Remus’ eyes. No matter what he could have done, it never would have been enough. He tightened his grip on the hospital sheet that was covering his bandaged body.
“He’s back.”
“I know.”
“It was Peter. He’s the one who brought him back.”
“I know.” Sirius’ voice cracked. It would never be easy to think of the boy they’d known. How could he hate someone he’d thought of as a brother? How could he feel any lingering fondness for the man who’d caused them all so much pain? Sirius was the only one who understood. He grabbed his hand. “I’m never letting you two out of my sight again.”
“I know.” He smiled a little and looked over at Harry’s sleeping form, “Me neither.”