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The smell of sizzling bacon wafted down the hall and to the bedroom, where one lone occupant laid in the rumpled bed sheets. At the appetizing scent, the man stirred and his mouth stretched into a wand. He pushed himself up on his elbow, raven-black hair falling over his bare shoulders as he sniffed the air.
A grin broke out over his face as he tossed the blanket off him. He pushed the blankets off him, slinging his bare feet over the bed. He stood and padded out of the cream colored room, stepping over discarded books and shirts.
Following the smell of the food, he stepped out into the hallway and let the frying sound of bacon lead him. The wooden floors creaked under foot and he glanced briefly at the pictures adorning the wall. There were a few faded photographs of the Lupin family with a happy, healthy Remus bouncing in his mothers arm. There were many more from their school days: Sirius laying across Remus’ lap as he read and Sirius smoked, Marlene, Mary and Lily dancing to James’ ABBA record, Lily snogging James senseless after a Quidditch game, the four Marauders cheering at a party and one of Sirius pulling Remus into a kiss.
A fond smile grew across his lips when he crossed the threshold into the kitchen. Remus stood above the stove, shaking the bacon in the pan gently. The record player had been moved into the kitchen and Sirius leaned against the door frame, smirking as Remus swayed and sung to himself.
“People stared at the makeup on his face…laughed at his long dark hair, his animal grace,” he sang quietly to himself, a content smile on his face. Sirius padded quietly to him, wrapping his arms around his waist.
Remus jolted a bit in surprise, a sharp inhale of breath. He reached for his wand instinctively, but then relaxed when Sirius pressed his face into his shoulder blade. He hated this. He hated that this war had destroyed all that was whole and good with them, twisting it into fear and panic, into revulsion and distrust.
“Morning, Pads,” Remus said, offering a shaky smile. Sirius had startled him more than he had let on obviously. Sirius breathed in his scent: chocolate, old books and autumn. “Sleep well?”
“With you? Always.” He mumbled. Remus’ chest rumbled with laughter, craning his neck back to survey him.
“Yeah, I could barely pry you away from me,” he chuckled, shivering as Sirius placed a kiss between his shoulder blades. “You should sit down. James sent a letter, saying we should come over for Harry. Besides, breakfast will be done soon.”
Sirius hummed a bit, nodding. He slid his arms out from Remus’, sidling to his side and raising his hand to cup Remus’ face. Chipped fingernails caressed his jaw, dancing over the scars marring them. Remus’ lips quirked up a bit.
“I didn’t get my good morning kiss,” Sirius complained. Remus cast his eyes up to the ceiling, his hazel depths shimmering with mirth.
“You’re so needy, Pads,” Remus grinned, but bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. Sirius chased it, his head tilting up to him. His heart pounded through his chest, but eventually, Remus relinquished and stepped back with twinkling eyes.
“Go on, I have to get the bacon out of the pan and that’s hard to do with you latched onto me.” He shooed him off, looking a good deal like Madam Pomfrey. Sirius grinned, skittering away and taking his place at the small, round table.
Remus slid crispy slices of bacon and fried eggs onto both of their plates, sitting across from them. They ate, talking easily over their food like those old romantics you always hear tales of. Their free hands were intertwined so tightly together that it seemed they had been melded perfectly for each other and each other only.
Too many times, this had almost been lost to them. Too many times, a curse had flown too close to them or a mission had almost gone awry. Too many times had Remus disappeared for longer than he had promised and Sirius was left to grieve someone that may not be dead, only to rejoice when he returned and mourn again when he inevitably left.
Now, Sirius made extra sure to savor each and every moment offered to them. Each smile, each laugh, each caress of the skin or the brush of the lips meant that they were alive, that they existed and that they existed together.
When they finished, Sirius waved his wand, sending the plates over to the sink where they began to clean themselves. Remus huffed, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “Would it kill you to do things the muggle way?”
“And give off a chance to show off my magical prowess? Never.” A smirk tugged on his lips. Remus rolled his eyes, brushing back his tawny curls from his own face.
“Of course. Spoiled little thing, aren’t you, Pads?” He smirked, dusting off his clothes. “Get dressed, I’ll get the floo ready, yeah?”
Sirius hummed a bit , squeezing the lean fingers in his own. Remus surveyed his face, taking in the features hungrily and Sirius knew he was also taking whatever chance he could to stare at him too.
Sirius quickly got dressed and returned in a blazer and one of his silk shirts. Remus stood by their crumbling fireplace with a fistful of powder. He looked up as Sirius returned, a faint blush coating his cheeks.
“You look nice, really nice,” he said with a grin, his face still pink. Sirius spread his arms wide, fully showcasing the outfit and turning in a circle. Remus’ hazel eyes followed him, roving over his whole body.
“Alright, alright, enough showing off,” he scolded. Sirius cackled as Remus’ Adam’s apple bobbed nervously. He tossed the shimmery powder into the roaring fireplace. The blaze consumed the power, orange bursting into green.
Remus looked to him, pulling his wand out of his belt. He gave him a grim nod and strangely, Sirius felt his pulse begin to pound and his mouth go dry. “Remus, I’m positive it’s-”
“I’d like to be sure,” Remus interrupted, his knuckles white on the hilt of his cypress wand. “We can’t take any risks, Sirius, you know this. We have to have-”
“Constant vigilance,” Sirius finished, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He could almost hear Moody’s gruff voice in his ear. “Yeah, I know. I could never forget” His voice petered out.
The corner of Remus’ mouth tugged upwards, warping one of the many scars on his face. “Yeah, constant vigilance.” His voice was still normal, too loud in the suddenly quiet room.
“I’ll go first. You can’t stop me, Sirius,” Remus sighed, his eyes softening at the blatant worry on his face. “Look, I’ll just pop in real quick. If it’s all clear, I’ll stick a hand through, yeah?”
There it was, that steely glint in hazel eyes. The hardening of bright eyes that meant he wasn’t backing down, his mind was set and there was nothing anyone could do about. Not even Sirius as much as he wanted to hold onto him, curl his fingers into his sweater and keep him sequestered here from all harm. That wasn’t possible in a war.
Remus surveyed him, taking a deep breath to still himself. Then, he turned before Sirius could even raise another protest and stepped into the flames.
Sirius’ fingers gripped one another, the frail bones in them grinding. He didn’t even notice the pain. That was nothing compared to watching Remus disappear into the green flames, even if it was only for a second. And he hoped it was only for a second. This felt too similar to all those times Remus had walked out the door from him.
His breath caught in his chest and the edges of the room seemed to blur around him. His hand fumbled for his wand, stumbling towards the fireplace. Forget this, he was going to go in there, signal or no. He was inches away from the fireplace, his ears ringing. Before he could burst through the flames, a thin hand appeared through the flames and gave him a huge thumbs up.
A relieved burst of air escaped his lungs. He barrelled into the flames, shouting out “Godric’s Hollow.” A dizzying array of colors and smells flew past him, until he was floundering out onto the hardwood floor of the Potter manor.
“ਅੰਤ ਵਿੱਚ! Finally, there you are, mate!” Immediately, muscular arms were wrapped around Sirius, pulling the shorter man into him. The smell of eucalyptus and baby powder filled his nostrils and a gigantic grin spread across his face. He wrapped his arms around James Potter, giving his shoulder blade a firm pat.
A soft tinkling laugh came from just behind and Sirius opened his eyes to peer over James’ shoulder. Lily stood next to Remus, one arm slung around her best friend’s waist and the other hoisting up Harry. Remus’ lanky arm was draped around Lily’s shoulders with red hair cascading over it as he cooed to a beaming Harry.
James pulled back from Sirius, surveying his face with the classic James Potter grin: crooked with too much teeth and dimples. “Good to see you outside of Order business, Pads. Remus keeping you well fed?”
“I’m not his house wife or servant, James,” Remus called in a flat tone before he turned back to Harry and let sparks fly out of his wand, much to Harry’s delight. Lily sighed good-naturedly.
“One day, you or James are going to catch him on fire if you keep doing that around him,” she chided but beamed as Harry grasped for the wand in his Uncle Moony’s hand.
James rolled his eyes, sharing a wink with Sirius. “She frets too much. A little fire never hurt anybody!” He strolled over to his wife and child with a boisterous smile. As soon as Harry saw James, he squealed and turned to him.
James’ smile grew even wider. He planted a kiss on Lily’s cheek, who despite four years together, still blushed. Remus nudged her shoulder with his, sending her a look to which she responded with a tongue out.
James picked up Harry, throwing him up in the air and catching him. Harry let out a small gasp, giggling when James caught him with all the grace of an experienced chaser. He cradled him against his hip, striding over to Sirius.
“And here he is! Your favorite godson!” James declared with an ear-splitting grin. Harry’s green eyes flicked to Sirius and he flashed him a gummy smile.
“Pads!” He cried out, trying in vain to wriggle out of his father’s grip. James rolled his eyes with a faux scowl. Sirius smirked, moving forward and sweeping the toddler out of his arms to Harry’s squealing laughter.
“Hello there, Prongslet!” Sirius crooned, holding him out in front of him. Harry waved chubby arms and legs, his tan face crinkling in mirth. “Have you missed me? Why am I asking? Of course you have!”
“He positively pines for you,” Lily said, her eyes twinkling. “Reminds me of Remus in his fourth year.”
Remus’ face flushed a dark red all the way up to ears framed by tawny curls. “I was not pining,” he protested, his voice cracking as it had not done in four years. “I was just-”
“Completely and irrevocably jealous of anyone who so much as breathed near him? Constantly whining and complaining?” Lily asked, her voice bland and her brows raised. Remus’ face flushed, if possible even more, causing his scars to stick out starkly.
Sirius bounced the toddler on his hip, a sly smirk creeping over his face. He let his silver eyes lift, drifting over Remus with a low hum. “Hm, that’s alright. I like a jealous man.” His smirk grew and he sucked his lip in between his teeth to stifle a laugh as Remus jolted, turning his face away.
James grimaced a bit, waving a hand. “Hey, hey, ਕਾਫ਼ੀ of that! You can snog each other senseless on your own time. Harry will report back to me if you do anything like that, right, tyke?” He grinned, ruffling the faint strands of black hair on his head.
Harry giggled and Sirius scoffed, hefting Harry up further. Harry turned emerald eyes, framed with dark lashes, onto his godfather. “We will be perfect babysitters, won’t we?” He looked at Harry, pressing his regal nose to his.
James perked up, his eyes softening at the sight of them. Lily’s lips remained pursed in doubt. She craned her head to look up to Remus.
“You’ll watch over him, right?” A faint note of exasperation ran through her voice. Remus’ lips quirked up in a crooked smile, giving her shoulders a small squeeze.
“I’ll take care of them both,” he said solemnly, flicking his gaze between the cooing Sirius and the nonsensical Harry. Sirius’ attention flicked up at that and then silence fell upon them.
There was a lot of silence between the group lately. There wasn’t much the war hadn’t taken away from them and even small, simple conversations had the current of loss in them. You never knew when you would see a person again, or if you would ever see them again.
You would think that would make a person want to talk, want to ramble and savor every single word, every single interaction that you had lest it be snatched away.
Instead, you had silence. Silence because how could you fully articulate what you wanted to say, because there was too much to say, because there wasn’t enough time, or enough words. It was silent because it hurts to grieve, it hurts to know that a moment cannot last forever, that a person cannot last forever.
James was the first to break the silence, to do something. Of course he was. The sun could not be contained, could not be dimmed. Even in the darkest of nights, its light shone through the moon.
“Mate, we’ll be back. It’s a simple mission,” James said, his face too solemn. “We should be back by tonight, if all goes well.
“If all goes well,” Sirius repeated dully, swallowing the lump in his throat. There were too many if’s, too many chances for this to go wrong. If James was lost to the world, there would be no point. Everything would be dark and old and his soul would rot, rot, without James there.
And Lily, sweet, kind Lily who had held Remus after Sirius had ruined everything in fifth year. Lily, who brought out the best of the best in James, who held Sirius’ hand when Regulus died. Who Remus loved like a sister, who could always make him smile when Sirius struggled to pull him from the very depths of depression that dragged him, screaming and kicking, into his pit.
Remus was obviously thinking the same thing. His chin was ducked against his chest, his shoulders hunched to his ears. Lily’s palm drove small circles into the small of his back.
“We’ll come back, Remus. We’ll be careful.” Lily’s voice was soft, leaning her head against his shoulder. He released a shuddering breath, pressing his face into her hair.
Sirius looked to James, whose eyes were shimmering behind his spectacles. They strode forward at the same time, clasping each other into an embrace. They fumbled for a bit until Sirius was positioned so Harry was not crushed between them.Sirius clutched at his clothes, the fabric bunching beneath his fingers. He breathed out sharply, tears pricking his eyes traitorously. A shaky breath escaped him and he bit down on his lip sharply.
“It’s okay, Pads. I’ll come back for you, alright? For you and Moony and Harry,” he whispered into his ear, just for him. “I love you, mate.”
There were so many words in those four alone, so many things unsaid but somehow, James managed to squeeze them all in those four. A hopeless laugh escaped him, nodding jerkily.
“Yeah, yeah, I-I love you too, mate,” Sirius said with a sniff. He felt James smile into his hair, gripping into his shoulder before pulling back. “We’ve got to go, Sirius.”
Sirius bit his lip, managing another trembling nod. Remus had practically enveloped Lily, his thin fingers shaking so bad that strands of hair kept falling from his fingers. He let go, his eyes wet as Lily wiped away the tears spilling from her own eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, we-Moody will kill us if we’re late,” she trailed off with a swallow. James moved from Sirius, pulling Remus into a hug and whispering something into his ear too. Lily buried her face in Sirius’ shoulder, shuddering against him.
Too soon, they were pulling away, their eyes wet. Too soon were they walking James and Lily out of the Fidelius charm bounds. James took Harry from his godfather’s arms, pulling him into a tight hug. Lily pressed a shaky kiss to his forehead, trembling so bad that her lips struggled to make contact. Harry blinked up at them with a wide, toothless grin. A tearful laugh escaped Lily at that, her right hand clenching the fabric of her robes. She forcibly turned herself away into James’ arms and his arms were right there, perfectly crafted for her existence.
As the couple walked away, the sun and his flower, Remus’ shivering fingers wrapped around Sirius’ wrist, sending it into small trembles. The air rippled as they stepped out of the bounds of the charm. With one last look back at them, they were gone with a sharp crack and the faint smell of sulfur in the air.
Sirius’ lungs struggled for breath, his eyes stinging. His heart fluttered in his chest, a crackling breath forcing its way out of heaving lungs and heart. He ducked his head against Remus who let his arms wrap around him, perfectly fitting into the curves of his body.
“They’ll be okay, Sirius. They-they’ve got each other.” His voice cracked, belying his confident words. Sirius craned his neck upwards, his heart shattering as he saw Remus’ lashes, clumped together with salty tears.
“Moons,” he breathed out, his free hand reaching to caress his jaw. His fingers snagged briefly on the deep grooves in his beautiful, freckled skin. Remus allowed himself to relish in the touch, his face rolling into his fingers with a sharp exhale from his nose.
For a moment, only they existed. Two souls intertwined with each other, shrouded with grief and longing, two souls with their flames dulled with a war fought by people far, far too young.
Remus’ hazel eyes stared down into Sirius’ slate. They flickered over his face and for a brief moment, Sirius’ heart flitted like he was still in fourth year, watching Remus cross the common room and thinking “he’s stunning.”
“Moon-moon!” Harry’s voice rang out, breaking the stilted silence. Remus’ gaze broke away from Sirius, a faint smile tugging at his lips when he looked at Harry.
Remus’ tremors seemed to calm as he raised a hand to touch Harry’s tuft of black hair. “Hey, cub,” he said quietly, his eyes softening. He looked to Sirius, shivering as a breeze ran through the trees and cut through his shirt.
“Come on. Let’s get inside. Prongs would kill us if we got Harry sick,” Remus mumbled, squeezing Sirius’ hand and guiding him inside. Harry wiggled in his godfather’s grip, clearly just as displeased by the cold. Sirius pulled him closer, pressing his face into the soft black curls.
Remus jerked open the oak door, waving in Sirius and Harry. His eyes roved the street, scanning the rows of perfect houses with their festive Halloween decorations leering at any passerby.
Any other time, Sirius might have found them humorous. Maybe he would have pleaded with Remus to decorate their apartment or even the Potter’s house, doing the best puppy eyes he could muster and professing his love until Remus was red in the face, fighting not to burst out into a beaming smile until he finally relented. Maybe he would even drag Harry into it.
Now, they mocked him. The skeletons jeered with ghastly grins, their empty sockets boring into his back. The pumpkins laughed at their grief, their mourning with glittering eyes. The cobwebs waved their silky tendrils, waggling in a mock wave.
Sirius wondered vaguely if he was going mad.
Remus stepped in behind them, shutting the door behind him and waving his wand effortlessly. The locks and deadbolts twisted with a resounding click and Sirius felt a small weight lift off his shoulders. The locks wouldn’t stop Voldemort, wouldn’t even stop a first year with a snapped wand.
It was just a blanket of security, something they could hold on to in order to make themselves feel better but could be snatched away so easily.
“Right then.” Sirius plastered on a smile, peering down at the beaming Harry, green eyes in an oh so familiar face. A lump welled in his throat and he pressed quivering lips to his forehead.
Remus moved behind him, pressing his body into his back as he leaned over Sirius to peer at the child. Harry babbled when he saw Remus, brown fists waving to latch onto his nose. Sirius’ heart ached as Remus’ uneven nose scrunched up. It was positively, heart wrenchingly adorable.
“Let’s make this the best Halloween, yeah?” Remus murmured, pressing his face into Harry's tiny fists. Sirius’ faux smile wavered a bit, thinking of Lily and James risking their lives in the nippy fall air.
Then, Remus tilted his face out of Harry’s weak grip and into Sirius’ jaw. His warm breath raised goosebumps on his skin and instinctively, he melted into his touch.
Remus didn’t speak, but he never had to with Sirius. Both of them struggled with words for different reasons, so they’d adapted, evolved. A single brush of the hand could bare the most shattered parts of themselves to the other and maybe Remus or Sirius couldn’t fix it, but that was okay. That was okay because all the sharp, uncut edges could be fashioned into a beautiful mosaic far removed from all the hurt of the world.
So Sirius knew exactly what Remus was asking of him. Pretend. Just pretend. Pretend that we’re not in the middle of a war, that our best friends could be dead right now. Just pretend that we can be happy.Sirius was never good at saying no to Remus, so he nodded with a sharp, desperate inhale. A wry smile tugged at Remus’ lips and the lightest of kisses brushed across his jaw.
“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice so tender that Sirius’ bones ached with love. Remus flashed a toothy grin at Harry, his fingers dancing down Sirius’ spine until he finally pulled away. Sirius immediately wanted to fling his arms out and pull him back, but well, he did have the best godson in the world in his arms.
Harry instantly protested his uncle, but calmed when Sirius swung him up to perch on his shoulders. He giggled, chubby fists gripping onto his godfather’s raven locks. A genuine smile broke across his face and he tilted his head up to stare upwards at Remus.
“Right, then. Let’s get this holiday started!” Sirius declared, sending Harry into a fit of giggles.
And so they did. Remus rifled through the Potter’s records, scoffing at James’ frankly awful taste. He finally settled on one of Lily’s Fleetwood Mac records, magicking the record player on. Sirius scrounged through the kitchen with Harry, pulling out bags of sugar and flour and declaring his ambitions of a Halloween cake.
That process in itself was difficult. Sirius could barely make a manageable cup of tea, let alone a chocolate cake as Harry (and Remus) had demanded. Sirius balanced Harry on his hip, his lips pursed in concentration as he doled out cups of sugar and flour. This task was made even more difficult by the fact that Harry kept making the utensils float and knock into Sirius.
Eventually, Remus decided to put Sirius out of his misery and actually be useful, stupid bugger. He moved over, wedging Harry in between the two men. Cooing to Harry all the while, he fixed Sirius’ botched measurements and replaced all the flying cutlery. Even doing the most menial tasks made Sirius’ blood sing, which was probably not helped by the fact that Remus kept knocking his hip into Sirius’.
When the cake was finished, Remus whipped up chocolate icing and allowed Harry to messily slather it over the fluffy cake. Sirius watched as Remus smeared chocolate over the toddler’s face, who squawked his joy. The cake was cut and Sirius and Remus took turns feeding the child, their hands interlocked on the table.
A sugar-high toddler was a force to be reckoned with. Harry bounced from wall to wall, quite literally, encased in a magic bubble. It took the better part of an hour for Remus to finally persuade Harry to come down with the promise that “yes, Pads will play with you.”
So it was that finally Sirius managed to wear the boy down between playing fetch with Padfoot, riding on his back and terrorizing his uncle Moony, who he also demanded read books with him and help him with his miniature broomstick. . It was with a great sigh that Remus finally laid back on the couch, a content smile gracing his lips in the moonlight after having laid Harry in the magic swing across from them.
Sirius flopped down on top of Remus, rather gracelessly. A grunt escaped Remus’ lips and his eyes squinted open to peer down at him as Sirius nuzzled into his collar bone. Slender, scarred fingers twined through his hair as Sirius’ eyes drooped to half-mast.
“Hm, are you exhausted too?” Remus said, his chest rumbling with his chuckles. “Do I have to put you down to sleep too?”
Sirius hummed softly, pressing a kiss in the hollow of his neck. “It’s exhausting looking after a kid. Dunno how Lily and James do it every day,” he grumbled, relishing in the sharp exhale that his kiss drug from Remus.
“Well, I suspect they’ve had a lot of time to get used to it,” Remus remarked, twisting a lock of Sirius’ hair around his finger. “They’ve had him for over a year now.”
Sirius hummed a bit, burying his face into Remus’ chest once more which shuddered with a laugh. A satisfied silence covered them, warming the cold worry burning in their chests. Remus’ hands trailed down his back, rubbing soothing circles into his back. A swell of love rose in his chest and without fully registering, Sirius blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“I think we should get married,” Sirius rushed out. Remus’ muscles tensed beneath him, tendons tight and heat immediately rose in Sirius’ cheeks. He pushed himself up using Remus’ chest, eliciting a grunt from the other man.
“I didn’t-wait, that-that wasn’t a good moment. I meant-well, I meant for it to be-I just-” He stammered, his heart pounding against his chest. His gaze remained firmly fixed on the wall off-centered from Remus’ eyes. Remus had not said a word, but his body remained rigid under Sirius’.
“I’m sorry,” he finished lamely, his eyes squeezing shut. There was a heavy pause and a sickening feeling rose in the back of his throat. A painful vice squeezed itself around his heart and Sirius thought he might die if someone didn’t release him. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and he made to move off him.
Remus’ hands quickly reached up, cupping Sirius’ face. “Sirius, look at me.” His husky voice filled his senses and he could not deny him this. Sirius’ gray eyes flicked to him and he jolted when he found Remus’ face split into an uncharacteristic beam, his cheeks flushing in a way so similar to fourth year.
“Sirius…no, that’s perfect. It’s wonderful…” He said, his voice oh so quiet and oh so gentle. “I-” Sirius felt a jolt lance through him, causing him to sit up straight.
Remus's fingers danced over his face, his bright smile dulling slightly. "But, love, I can’t give you what you deserve,” he croaked out, his fingers caressing his chin carefully with butterfly touches.
“What?” Sirius’ voice came out in a heavy rasp. “Remus, no. No, that’s-for someone so bright, you’re incredibly daft.” A rough laugh escaped him. “Remus, you’ve given me everything. You’ve given me freedom. You’ve given my lungs a reason to draw breath, for my heart to keep pumping. You’ve let me have life, a real life without chains or-or expectations. If anything, I don’t deserve you, Moony.”
Remus’ face softened, the too harsh lines that normally marred his face smoothing out. His touch became more perceptible and his hazel eyes shimmered. “I want to give you everything. I want to serve the world up on a platter to you, Sirius. I-my condition won’t allow that. You know that, Pads.”
A huge lump rose in Sirius’ throat because he did know. He had grown up in a house full of hatred and bigotry. He knew all the hateful, vile people that existed in this world, people who would hurt his Remus because of venom coursing through his veins, venom that had been thrust upon him by a true monster, werewolf or no.
Sirius vividly remembered the first time he had crossed the threshold of his parent’s house after discovering Remus’ secret. He had immediately trekked up to his room, but not before he stepped across a gray fur carpet, always draped in the hallway. A carpet made from the pelt of a werewolf.
Sirius had promptly dashed to the water closet and heaved his guts out.
and Sirius felt an overwhelming sense of joy bubble in his chest. A crackling laugh escaped him before their lips crashed together.
It was a moment and forever, an end and a beginning. Something so beautiful, so pure captured into the loving caress of hands, the soft words murmured against their lips, their bodies pressed against each other as their souls tried to meld into one.
Remus tugged at his hair, something he had always loved to do and Sirius ran his hands over Remus’ scars, kissing all the ones he could reach, claiming each one as his. His Remus, his Moony, his fiancee. The word felt delightful in his mouth and he whispered it in between his I love you’s and kisses. Remus giggled and Sirius wanted to bottle the sound and hide it where only he could have it. How lovely that he could drag that sound from him.But a moment isn’t forever and even an eternity cannot truly mean forever because eternity might change. And eternity is just a measure of how much time is available and sometimes an end is truly an end, a beginning abandoned.
At first, the couple didn’t notice anything amiss, so enraptured, so entranced they were with each other. They didn’t notice the release of pressure and faint gust of wind as the wards dropped, as the protective magic fled the house.
Only when the front door was flung off its hinges with a bang did Sirius jolt up, his lips swollen. There was a brief second of stunned silence. Remus’ hands clenched the fabric of Sirius’ shirt, his chest heaving with panic, no longer passion.
Cold fear crept its way up his spine and for a moment, gray eyes locked with hazel. Remus’ mouth worked fruitlessly, his face blanching. “No-” he stuttered out, his voice barely more than a whisper. “No, it-he can’t-”
Because there was no else it could be. There was one person and one person only who wanted the Potter’s, only one person who would possibly be barging into the house because who else would he entrust with the task but himself?
“Voldemort,” Sirius breathed out and a choked noise escaped Remus. Sirius quickly scrambled off Remus, a sickening wave of dizziness crashing over him. He fumbled for his wand, his fingers going numb. Remus swung his legs over the sofa, his face stricken.
“Sirius-” He began, but Sirius shook his head, cutting him off. His heart thrummed in his chest, but a resolute determination let him square his shoulders. He couldn’t afford to be scared now, not when his fiancee’s, his fiancee’s, and his godson’s life were in danger.
“Take Harry. Take Harry and run. Hide upstairs. I’ll fight him off.” The words spilled from his tongue with ease, because of course, of course he was going to protect two of the people he loved most. There was no question about it.
A sob pushed its way past Remus’ lips, still glossy from kissing Sirius. Despite the panic coursing through his veins, fogging his mind and ringing in his ears, all Sirius wanted to do was move to Remus and cradle him.
“Sirius, no. No, you can’t-you can’t face him alone. No one can,” Remus pleaded, his words rushing out in a tidal wave and Sirius was almost tempted to cave, to allow Remus to help him.
Then he heard a step on the foyer, the slithering of a cloak. His lips twisted and something must have shifted in his expression, for Remus closed his eyes. He dashed for Harry, stumbling and gasping. Harry made an indignant noise as Remus plucked the boy out of his swing, cradling him close.
With quick strides, he stalked over to Sirius who immediately pulled Remus and the wriggling Harry closer. For one instance, they breathed in tandem, shaky breaths puffing into the cold room. Salty tears streamed down Remus’ face into Sirius’ hair as Sirius’ fingers clutched at the fabric of his jumper.
War wasn’t fair, he knew this. He had known it when Gideon and Fabian had been slaughtered, when Marlene and her whole family had been executed like lowly criminals, but it seemed as if fate was being especially cruel to Sirius and Remus.
Their forever was quickly approaching a bitter end. Sirius knew this and so did Remus, his tall, lanky body shuddering with sobs. Silent tears trickled down Sirius’ chin as he pressed his face into Remus’ chest, inhaling his scent one last time. The familiar smells greeted him like an old friend: chocolate, books and autumn.
Remus would have stayed like that forever, enveloped in his arms but Harry grumbled at his harsh awakening. Sirius tenderly nudged him back, but Remus stumbled as if Sirius had punched him. His fingers wrapped around Sirius’ wrist, shaking and Sirius relished in the comforting touch. Sirius, please-” His voice cracked.
For the first time ever, Sirius denied him. He shook his head slowly, stretching up on his toes to capture his lips in his. He tasted of salt, bitterness, of so many years lost when they had barely begun. Too soon, he pulled away, staring up into the eyes of the man he loved.
“I love you, Remus,” he breathed out, the words hanging in the air between them. A hiccoughing sob tore its way out of Remus’ lips and his body juddered with the pure force of it. He sucked in a deep breath, inhaling Sirius, inhaling the last scraps of love offered to him.
“I love you too, Sirius.” His voice crackled, the end of his name warping until it was barely recognizable. A pang shot through Sirius’ heart that he would never hear his name spoken with the reverent love he had become accustomed to after all these years again.
Sirius wanted to latch onto Remus, curl his fingers in the threads of his jumper and claim him for his own. Sirius didn’t want to go, not when Remus was right here and his arms were open and Harry, oh, Harry, was staring at his godfather with those familiar green eyes in his brother’s face.
But then, there was a step on the stairs and his grip was tightening on his wand. Remus clutched Harry closer, his small fists twining through his sweater. Remus stepped back, his gaze never leaving Sirius’ face until he reached the stairs to the third floor. Then he had no choice but to turn and dash up the steps.
Sirius closed his eyes, burning Remus’ face into his eyelids. He tried to wipe the grief-stricken expression from his face, insteading painting that familiar smirk on his face, his hazel eyes glimmering with mirth.
Remus Lupin was a worthy image to die to.
Sirius rolled his shoulders back, turning to the archway of the stairs. His body trembled, but his wand hand remained steady. He gritted his jaw, a strange calm stealing over him. He was not ready to die, but then, life had never given him what he wanted.
The steps grew closer and with a deep inhale, he stepped forward to meet him, but he was Sirius Black after all and he would greet death with a sneer and an embrace.
“Alright, you slimy bastard!” Sirius shouted, his voice steely. “You want a go, hm? Come on, then! Just you and I, none of your stupid cronies!” His voice arced up more, rage coursing through his veins and his vision blotched.
The steps grew closer and Sirius kept his wand trained for the steps, the spell on the tip of his tongue. Perhaps the Black blood coursing through his veins, pumping through his too-fast heart, decided it must make its appearance before his heart stilled forever.
As the hooded figure stepped over the landing, a bone-white hand, clenching a bleached wand, Sirius opened his mouth. White-hot anger surged through him, almost smothering the love clenching around his heart like a fist.
Anger and love combined was a tsunami in itself.
Sirius’ lips twisted back in a sneer and he jerked his wand back. “Avada kedavra!” He shouted, his whole arm jerking with the force of the spell. Fire lanced up his arm and he ground his teeth together, a sharp spike of shame ramming through him, but no. No, this was-this was necessary, prudent to protect the man and boy upstairs.
His hope promptly shriveled and died as Voldemort easily sidestepped, his cold, shrill laugh ringing through the room. Thin fingers raised the wand, pointing at his chest and Sirius felt not fear, but regret. Oh, what he would do to change this. What he would do to hold Remus one last time, to laugh with James, to hug Lily, to bounce Harry on his knee. Hug his brother one last time.
The last one seemed closed at hands.
He wanted to close his eyes, but he waited. He was a Gryffindor, he was brave. A wide smile split his face and as the wand raised between his eyes, he inhaled once more. His Remus still lingered and he hoped beyond everything in the world that these few seconds had been enough.
As the green light shot towards him, he allowed his eyes to close to fixate on the portrait of Remus he had painted who brimmed with love. A hot jolt of pain shot through his chest.
Like a falling star, Sirius plummeted.
~lacrimae~
Remus bounded up the stairs, his long legs stretching over the mahogany steps. The familiar ache was building in the joint of his hip, a tendril of fire stealing through his veins. It was nothing compared to the burn in his chest or the salty tears streaking down his face.
Harry protested in his arms, whimpering and whining his displeasure for his rude awakening, for the jarring steps Remus took in his mad dash up the stairs. Maybe for his parents, or his godfather-
His vision blurred at the mere thought of his star, his foot catching on the next step. A surprise gasp ripped itself from his throat and somehow, he managed not to tumble head first onto the stairs with Harry in his arms.
He scrambled upwards, his toes smarting in stocking feet. Harry squirmed in his arms, his brown face scrunching as Remus wrenched the door knob of the nursery with so much force he was surprised he hadn’t yanked it off.
Almost mechanically, he stepped inside the room and shut the door behind him. A strange sense of detachment stole across him as if Remus’ soul had fled to remain with Sirius and now a shell remained in an empty nursery.
The shell of Remus drew his cypress wand, pointing it to the door, the door painted with figures and constellations, dutifully painted by Harry’s father and his godfather. Once again, panic latched its claws into his heart, tugging at it, threatening to rip it from his chest and leave him to spill crimson over the floors.
Remus forcibly turned his attention back to Harry as a plaintive whimper tore itself from his throat. With a heaving chest, Remus stilled the tremors through his hand.
“Colloportus,” he choked out, his eyes flooding with fresh tears as a click resounded from the door. Now, there was no chance of Sirius fleeing up to them, no chance he could make a quick dash to safety, to Remus’ arms.
The thought nearly sent him to his knees, but no. No, he couldn’t afford to be weak now. He had been strong all his life ever since that cursed wolf had slunk into his bedroom and wrecked his life so irrevocably. Even when he had begged for release, begged for death or just some relief, please, just give him a break.
Dimly, he found himself waving his wand. The wooden dresser in the corner scraped across the polished floor, a large white line etching itself into the floor. It stopped in front of the door and Remus gave it an extra push, his pulse pounding.
Harry was still squirming in his arms, trying in vain to escape his uncle’s arms, reaching down for the floor. Remus curled him closer, his chest heaving with sharp gasps as the prickling numb feeling continued to creep up his spine.
Sirius shouted something downstairs, his voice harsh and coarse. Remus recognized that tone. He could almost see Sirius’ upper lip curling into a sneer, his silver eyes hardening, his shoulders hunching up as he let knife after knife fly from his lips.
Despite the terror of it, the true hatred and anger spilling from him now, Remus would have given anything to see it, would have given anything to be the person he yelled at. At least he would be there, at least he would be close by. At least he could stare at him instead of having these locked doors and solid walls in between them.
Remus shook himself once more as Harry’s face scrunched up with a displeasing whine. He swallowed back the tears and fought back his own whimper. A locked door would only hold Voldemort for so long and however skilled Remus may be, he was no match for him.
Their only option was escape.
Hazel eyes scoured over the room, black spots blurring his vision in panic. Just when his breath began to catch in his chest, his eyes zeroed in on the window. He inhaled sharply, the air whistling through his teeth.
Remus darted over to the window. His free hand scrabbled for the latch, his finger nails breaking with the desperate force, the need, to escape. To save the precious bundle in his arms.
Finally, shaking fingers jerked the window up, sending it banging up against the wall. With one hand clutching the window sill, he craned his neck over the side, his chest heaving and digging painfully into the wooden sill.
Darkness enveloped Godric’s Hollow, smothering the usually peaceful neighborhood. Lanterns alongside the street lit the cobbled streets, costumed children bouncing from house to house with glee as bags swung from their arms.
He tore his gaze away from them, squeezing the whimpering Harry closer. There was no way Remus could scale down the house with Harry. He probably couldn’t have even done it without a wiggling one year old, what with his bad hip.
But it was their only option, their only hope to save his nephew, to see his sister, his best friends, his Sirius and Remus would rather have to live through a full moon every day, live through his bones and organs twisting every night before he lost them.
Remus fumbled for his wand, his fingers curling around the familiar cypress. He bit down on his lip, stilling the trembles. If he was very concise, he could manage to levitate both him and Harry down. Then, they could run, run and never stop running until Harry was safe and there was help and Remus could go and save-
As if from a distance, Remus heard the high-pitched laughter, so harsh and cruel that chills raised on his arms. His blood roared in his ears and his limbs locked up, freezing him in place. That laugh could only mean one thing.
No person heard that laugh and lived.
Turning as if moving through sludge, he took one shaky step forward, an insistent ringing building in his mind. Every inch of Remus was at war, screaming itself hoarse, tearing and ripping itself apart by the tendons. Sirius, his Sirius, his love, his fiance, his star was downstairs, fighting for his life. Fighting for the world that never deserved him. And he shouldn’t be there, shouldn’t be in this war. He should be home in Remus’ arms, waking up to sleepy kisses, dancing in the living room, saying their vows under a blooming arch and staring up at Remus with shining eyes.
Instead, he was alone, facing something he never should have. That no one should ever have to, but especially not Sirius, not his Sirius, God, please, not him.
A wretched sob tore its way through his throat, straining his vocal cords. “Sirius-” He croaked out, taking a long, shaky stride forward.
Remus knew that he shouldn’t, that he should be noble, good, brave. He should take this chance and save his nephew, his best friend’s son. That was what Sirius would do. Well, no, Sirius would probably barrel through and manage to save them both, but Remus was not Sirius.
Remus was selfish and yes7q, Remus would do anything for Harry, but there was no Remus without Sirius, no Moony without Padfoot, no moon without the stars. The thought of one without the other was dizzying, impossible, because the world couldn’t possibly be so cruel, right? Life wasn’t fair and Remus Lupin knew this more than any other person, but couldn’t he have one thing? Couldn’t he have the stars?
Remus looked down at Harry who was still wiggling in his arms, straining for the ground. Remus’ throat bobbed and he squeezed his eyes shut. James would have to forgive him, but Remus had to try. He had to try to save Sirius, surely James would understand. After all, by saving Sirius, he would save Harry too…right?
Thoughts and half-made plans surged through his brain, slipping through his fingers before he could grasp a solid thought. His hand trailed to his belt where his cypress wand was tucked, his body thrumming with anticipation.
His sock-covered feet skimmed over the wooden floors, sucking in quick, sharp breaths. He could put Harry in his crib, race downstairs and he could face Voldemort with Sirius and win. It seemed so impossible but maybe, just maybe…they stood a chance. Hadn’t they done impossible things for years? Sirius had become an animagus at the age of 15, Remus had survived being torn apart for 16 years, they were a gay couple in the 70’s, for Merlin’s sake. If anyone could do this, the two of them could.
Harry still wiggled in his arms, blissfully unawares as Remus strode over to the door. His loose hand fumbled for the holster on his belt, fumbling for the familiar cypress wand. With trembling fingers, he raised the wand to the dresser he had moved mere minutes ago. Everything seemed so slow, the visuals warped and the audio cutting in and out like a bad record.
His limbs shook, his bones trembled in their sockets. Everything spun around him in a dizzying array of colors and emotions, snagging their hooks in him for a brief moment before being whisked away. A sudden surge of Gryffindor bravery shot through him, latching and sticking on.
The levitation spell lingered on the tip of his tongue, but it never met the air.
As Remus summoned the magic pooling in his gut and shoved aside the panic curling in his chest, it happened. The impossible happened, the unthinkable, because life, God, the universe couldn’t hate him that much, right? He was one man, one measly wizard. Why must everything be taken from him?
There was a shrill shout, shaping horrid words, terrible vowels and consonants that Remus’ brain refused to acknowledge. Horrid green light illuminated the room, seeping in from the horrors downstairs.
Remus’ breath caught in his lungs, sticking in the cage of his ribs. His heart thumped, straining against his soul to reach its other half. Perhaps it had missed. That was possible, wasn’t it? The killing- the spell was a guaranteed death if it hit you, but only if it hit you.
Sirius was fast, nimble, graceful. He was Gryffindor’s best beater, second only to Marlene. His steps were always easy and light; they had to be when you lived in a nightmare of a house.
So yes, there was every possibility that Sirius was still alive, still standing, still fighting, still ready to rush back into Remus’ arms because he always did.
Then he heard the thud.
Remus’s world screeched to a halt, silent in the devastating implications of that simple noise. His pulse pounded in his ears as a breath punched out of him, echoing and ringing in the void. The colorful colors of the nursery blurred in front of his eyes, black spots flaring in his vision.
No. No, it couldn’t be. Sirius had just knocked over something. Yes, one of his spells had gone awry and knocked over one of Lily’s knickknacks or perhaps he had finally done it. Maybe Sirius Black had been the one to finally end Voldemort’s reign of terror and he’d come bounding up the stairs any moment now, sweeping Remus into his arms and kissing him like a lovestruck fool. Because there was no universe in which Sirius could leave Remus.
Then there it was again. The cold, cruel vindictive laugh. Remus staggered, clutching onto the dresser he had levitated in front of the door, his chest heaving. Harry cried against him, pushing at him with small fists but Remus barely registered it.
That laugh cut him to his soul, severing any ties, cutting at the marrow of his very bones. That was the laugh of someone who had won.
Sirius was gone. Sirius wasn’t going to get back up, wasn’t going to sweep Remus off his feet, wasn’t going to wake Remus up with sleepy kisses, stubble scratching at his chin. Sirius would never get to plan their wedding, their secret wedding that wouldn't be official but would be right in all the ways that mattered. Sirius would never get to grow old with Remus, their hands interlocked on a porch far away from the war.
Remus would never be able to tell Sirius how he had saved him.
A strangled noise tore itself from Remus’ throat as his knees finally gave out. He slumped, his hand trailing down the fine wood of the dresser. His breath escaped in small wheezes, rasping his vocal cords.
No. No, please. Oh, Merlin, God, please, whoever-please let it not be true. It was supposed to be him. Remus was the one supposed to die first, supposed to succumb to the moon, to the sickness that had plagued him for his whole life.
Not Sirius. Not beautiful, brave Sirius. Not Sirius who tossed his head back when he laughed so the whole world could hear his joy. Not Sirius who kissed every one of Remus’ warped scars. Not Sirius who could never go anywhere without James. Not Sirius who loved so furiously, so dangerously that sometimes it spilt over in the worst ways but it was beautiful in its destruction.
A choked wail rose in his throat, but it issued forth as nothing more than a whimper. Remus was used to pain. He practically lived off it. There was never a day where he wasn’t in pain.
This, however…this was something different. This was a pain that could never be fixed, never be healed. This was a wound that would gush red, pool around him and drain him of any life he had left in him before he was a walking corpse. A corpse who had loved the brightest star in the sky and who had felt the searing pain of that star as it imploded into the galaxy.
A sob tore itself from him, his shoulders quivering with the full weight of grief. His whole body curved inwards around Harry, around his shattering heart as he tried desperately to just breathe.
From a distance, from a removed part of himself, he heard the footsteps on the stairs. He heard the slight hiss the cloak made as it trailed behind its wearer. Remus knew that death was approaching quickly and it would not stop for him to mourn.
For a moment, Remus debated letting Voldemort come up those stairs, letting him point his wand at Remus’ chest and uttering those two cursed words, but two words that would end all of his suffering.
Then, Harry’s black curls tickled his chin and he jolted, sucking in a deep breath. No. No, he couldn’t. Harry was still here, innocent Harry who had so much to live for and who never should have been involved in this war. He had to survive for just a little bit longer to ensure Harry’s life.Remus shoved aside the grief, locking it deep inside him. It still ached everywhere, consumed his every being, but he had to hold it back. Harry needed him. Harry was…
Harry was still alive and Sirius wasn’t.
That thought nearly tore him to pieces, severed the threads holding him together. Remus shoved that thought back deep inside him, his whole body shivering. With a shaky exhale, Remus managed to get to his feet, his knees quaking.
There was no escape now. Remus had wasted too much time grieving and trying to be a hero. When had being a hero ever worked for Remus Lupin?
The footsteps grew louder, more closer. Each one sent a jolt of fear through his body, fear that Remus had not experienced except for that fateful night of blood, teeth and a mother’s arms cradling his pain.
Remus was a child no longer, hadn’t been a child for a long time.
So it was that Remus gritted his trembling jaw, squeezing Harry close to his chest. The baby wailed his protests, but for once, Remus ignored them. He took a deep breath, pressing his face into the familiar black tuft of hair, tears tracking down his face.
“I’m so sorry,” he rasped, striding towards his crib with trembling legs. “I’m so sorry, Harry, I’m so-so sorry.”
He wasn’t entirely sure what he was apologizing for. There was so much to say, so much to apologize for. Maybe he was saying sorry that Harry would never have his godfather back, or that there was a possibility that Harry would be slaughtered alongside his uncle and godfather like pawns in some sick game. Everything about this was a twisted game.
Tenderly, Remus settled Harry into his crib right beside those four plush animals James and Lily had bought him: a stag, a wolf, a dog and a mouse in place of a rat. The sight of that plush mouse made him want to scream, to fling himself out of the house and find his friend, his brother, who was swiftly tearing everything from him.
He didn’t have the time for that though. With a great crash, the door burst open, his carefully placed barricades skidding to the side. He couldn’t stop the small croak that escaped him, whipping around and brandishing his wand. Harry whimpered at the noise, his small fists clenching into Remus’ sweater through the bars of his crib.
Remus had never been face to face with Voldemolrt. Oh, he had heard stories, everyone had. However, there was something different about seeing him in person. The stories did not fully express the fear that encompassed you.
He didn’t let his gaze drop from the man, his eyes firmly fixed on the red slits in a white face. His snake-like nostrils flared as his lips curled upwards. Remus had to fight back the urge to shudder or scream. Maybe even sob for the boy laying downstairs who should be laying in his arms.
“Ah. I know who you are,” Voldemort hissed. Remus resisted the urge to shy away, grounding himself in front of Harry and steadying his wand at the dark wizard. His voice was higher than Remus had expected, but he supposed it was childish to believe that every villain sounded like villains from his childhood cartoons.
Remus’ nostrils flared, all the color draining from his face. “Skip the pleasantries,” he choked out, his wand still trained on his chest. “You have a chance to walk out of here. Just let him live.”
Maybe it was a stupid thought to negotiate with the Dark Lord himself, even selfish, but Remus knew his limits. He was a skilled dueler, maybe one of the best in the Order, but not even the best of the best could take on Voldemort.
A cold laugh escaped a lipless mouth. Remus couldn’t repress a shiver now, a grimace twisting his face. Voldemort twirled a bone-white wand in his hand idly, his gaze flicking to the boy in the crib.
“Come now, Remus. You’re a reasonable enough man and you’ve got…skills,” he actually smiled at this, his gaze flicking to the scars twisting his face. “Skills that would be valuable to us.”
Remus’ mouth went dry, his eyes widening but Voldemort continued. “Greyback has spoken much of your potential. That is, if you would put it to use on the proper side. There’s a spot for you by Greyback’s side, by my side. If you would only-”
Once again, his red eyes drift back over to Harry. A swell of protection rose in his chest, numbing the fear and grief that still threatened to suffocate him.
“No,” Remus spoke immediately, cutting off the dark wizard. He didn’t need to hear what he had to say; it was obvious what he was here for anyway. “No, you can’t have him.”Voldemort took another step forward, slow and purposeful. Remus’ fingers tightened around his wand as Harry made a small noise behind him. He dared not turn around, lest Voldemort gain an even bigger advantage over him.
“Ah, love. Yes, sometimes I forget how much sway that has over…normal people,” He spoke with almost relish, his mouth curling. “Even half-breeds such as you. But what is one boy when you could have the world, power, anything you want.”
Remus’s vision filled with red. Anything he wanted? The only thing he wanted was lying dead downstairs, growing cold or possibly dying on another foolish mission for this foolish war.
Voldemort was still talking, but Remus found himself moving before he finished. “Bombarda!” Remus shouted, flicking his wand at the man but Voldemort had obviously expected it. With a nonchalant wave of his hand, a shield charm deflected the spell and sent it flying into a wall. A shelf collapsed and Harry let out a yelp.
Remus had no time to comfort. His pulse hammered in his temples, but he was firing another spell. Voldemort easily parried it, of course. There was a reason he was so feared after all.
In some far corner of his mind, Remus wondered if this was how his father had felt on the terrifying night when a great beast had broken into his son’s room, ruining their lives forever, fighting for a lost cause bleeding on his bed sheets. It was a terrible feeling.
Remus held out for longer than he probably should have. Magic singed through him, practically begging to be released, to protect the precious child behind him. It wasn’t enough. It was never going to be enough.
With a single wave of Voldemort’s wand, Remus’ own flew out of his hand and clattered against the floor. His eyes jerked over to where the slender piece of wood lay. He swallowed thickly, spreading his arms to fully cover Harry.
“Spare him!” He shouted, his voice arching up as he pleaded. “Spare him, please! He’s a child! He has done nothing to deserve this! Have mercy!” He begged, his voice trembling.
“This is mercy, Remus,” Voldemort breathed, his wand raised. The wand tip glowed green and Remus’ brave facade slipped. A small sob tore itself from his lips and he clenched his eyes shut.
This was not how things were supposed to go. It was supposed to be an easy night, a domestic baby-sitting trip with the love of his life and his nephew. Now, a dozen people’s lives were ruined, tarnished and Remus had done the one thing in life he had never wanted to do.
He had failed James. Because Remus was a dirty coward, Sirius, his best friend, lay downstairs, a dying smile on his lips. Because he was not strong enough, he was going to lose his only son. Because Remus had not been smart enough to work out the traitor, death had torn a hole in all of them.
Remus felt more salty tears stream down his face, weeping for James, for Lily, for Harry, for Sirius who had never lived enough. Never lived the life him and Remus had always dreamed of, in a cottage with a garden and warm beds and easy kisses. Remus would never get that; they would never get that now.
So Remus Lupin died weeping for a life he never got to have and hoping that in the next life, he would find Sirius Black, his darling star, and James, the light in his life once more.
Maybe they would get their happy ending.
Or maybe Remus would die a coward again.
~lacrimae~
No missions were easy. This was something James knew. Even the ones that Moody claimed were easy, well, they usually ended in at least some blood shed.
Surprisingly, this one had gone rather well. It was a simple stake out at the usual shady businesses. Lily and James had a few names that were high on their list of suspects, but they had caught no trace of them. In fact, there was no trace of any Death Eater activity.
James felt a flicker of unease welling in him. A quiet night was a blessing, of course, but this was a strange quiet. Usually, there was at least a whisper of activity, a taint of dark magic in the air. Nothing at all lingered.
James must have huffed or grumbled something because Lily suddenly broke their silent vigil they had kept. “What’s got you so hot and bothered?” She asked, her voice slightly rough with disuse as she turned green eyes up to him. In any other situation, it would have driven James wild.
“Well, I’m always hot.” This was met with a scoff from the redhead, but a faint grin played on her lips even in the dark. He laughed, a deep rumble in his chest before continuing on.
“Something just feels off to me,” he admitted, his voice low. “It’s been so quiet, I just…” He trailed off, shaking his head.
Perhaps he was being ungrateful. After all, who in their right mind would complain that their lives were not actively being put in danger? Yet danger was something James could handle. He’d be in this war the moment he had graduated and even before then, he had thrived off adrenaline, of the nights he spent gallivanting through the woods with a werewolf. The night he had raced into the Shrieking Shack to pry Snape from certain death.
To sit here with nothing to wile away the long hours besides the occasional small talk was torture in itself, even if he did happen to be with his lovely wife.
Lily, obviously, did not share the same sentiment as she frowned harshly. Then again, she had always been the tamer of the pair. While James rained mischief and chaos, Lily was the epitome of control and responsibility, even more so than Remus.
“Well, we should be happy for that, James. No activity or dark magic means no one is getting hurt, that no one is dead.” Her voice was slipping into Prefect mode, or rather, mom mode as Sirius lovingly called it after Harry was born. James just called it really attractive.
“Besides, the less action, the sooner we can get back to Harry and the boys,” she continued, her eyes softening. Despite her initial dislike of Sirius, she had grown increasingly fond of the man. If James hadn’t known that Sirius was head over heels for Remus, he may have even been jealous.
James raised his hands in surrender, one hand clenched around his wand. “Alright, alright, I know.” He said with a light chuckle. “I’m just used to more action than this. Not many quiet nights anymore, are there?”
Lily sighed, her shoulders drooping. Immediately, James wanted to take her in his arms, shield her from all the hurt that this world had ever inflicted on her. Lily was so strong, one of the strongest people James knew, but even so. They were all so young to have felt such pain. No one so young should have to worry about losing everything and everyone that they loved.
James couldn’t do that here because then he knew he would break down, knew that he would crumble into her arms and sob, but he couldn’t do that. Because James was strong. James was the backbone of them. He could not crumble or fall. He had to be strong.Lily turned to him nevertheless, her green eyes glimmering. “Well, not everyone is used to the chaos that surrounds James Potter,” she teased, even if her voice was tired and low. It was something. It was an attempt.
James chuckled, pressing a broad hand to his chest right above his heart. “Ah, and isn’t that just a shame? Their lives are forever dulled without me in it.”
A short giggle pulled itself from Lily’s throat and she rolled her eyes. “Uh huh..I’m sure.” She laughed, shaking her head and sending small strands of red hair to bounce. “They’re positively pining for you, hm?” She smirked.
“Oh, absolutely! They’re downright miserable! Why-”
James was cut off by the sharp crack of apparition. Immediately, all humor was gone as James and Lily whirled around, their wands drawn on the hooded witch in front of them. Seeing their wands, she threw back her hood, revealing Emmeline Vance.
She thrust her hands forward, her hands shaking. “Lily, at your bachelorette party, Mary threw up on me. When you took me to the bathroom to magic me clean, you were so plastered that you used the wrong spell and set my dress on fire.”
Well, that answered the fear of an imposter, based on Lily’s face. Whatever relief they had been feeling quickly disappeared as Lily paled and James jerked his head back to Emmeline.
“What’s happened?” He asked, his voice breathy and hardly above a whisper. As much as he loved Emmeline, even admired her, a visit from a trained Auror was never anything good. Sometimes, James pondered that: how something good and comforting could be twisted into a figure as fearful as the Grim Reaper.
Lily stiffened beside him, her hand reaching out to latch onto his. Her slender fingers laced into his and his own broad hand squeezed hers. Already, he could feel the cold sense of dread, the chill in the air, the pulse fluttering in his chest as he braced himself for whatever disaster had happened. Could he have prevented it? Was it his fault?
Emmeline raked her shaky fingers through her dark hair, a breathless laugh escaping her. Thin strands of black hair stuck up on her head from her frantic motions. “Godric, I don’t know how to say this.” She giggled and Lily and James shared an appalled look. Surely if someone had died, Emmeline would have the good grace to not laugh.
“He’s gone,” she rushed out, her brown eyes flickering up to dart between Lily and James. “He’s gone, he-he’s dead, we defeated him!”
James felt all the air in his lungs puff out in a sharp exhale. Lily gasped beside him, her free hand moving to rest on her collarbone. Silence stole over them, the only noise was the sound of their rapid breathing and the faint hoot of an owl.
“What?” Lily croaked out, her voice rough as if she had swallowed sand paper. “What do you mean? You mean Voldemort?”
At any other point, James would be beaming with pride at his beautiful wife, brave enough to speak Voldemort’s name when normally that would be a death sentence, especially for those who defied him.
“Yes!” Emmeline exclaimed, her face splitting into a wide smile. “Yes, he’s-he’s gone! The war is over! You can go home, celebrate!” She laughed, clapping her hands together once and practically vibrating with pure joy.
Lily turned to James slowly, her wide green eyes meeting stunned hazel. “James…” she trailed off. She still had her wand in her hand, but her grip was loose, dangerously close to dropping it.
“James, we can go home. The war is over,” she whispered, her throat bobbing. James stared down at her as if through a tunnel before tenderly raising a hand and cupping the back of her head, pulling her close to him.
Lily buried her head in his chest, her small frame racking with gasping breaths. Normally, James would comfort her, would whisper platitudes in her ears, but he found he could not. Everything felt remote as if on a far away planet, but he still found himself pressing his face into her strawberry scented hair.
Was it over? James didn’t know a world without the war, without a Dark Lord threatening to destroy all he knew. How could he live in a world like that? Of course, he wanted a life like that, but he had gotten so used to the violence, the fear, the danger that anything else felt terrifying.
But, oh, the possibilities. He could raise Harry in a right world, a world where he didn’t have to worry whether his friends were ‘pure of blood’ or be thrust into a war he was far too young for. He could have dinner parties with his friends, reminisce on their school days, watch his friends live their lives, have their families, get married.
They would actually get to live.
James’ grip tightened on Lily, releasing a shuddering breath. “We can go home…let’s go home then.” His voice shook with repressed emotions, with suppressed excitement. “Harry- we need to get Harry and-”
“Tell Remus and Sirius. They don’t know yet,” Lily finished for him, pulling back to wipe tears from her eyes and then reaching up to swipe away James’. He hadn’t even realized he’d been crying.
“Y-yeah, they’ll be-” His breath escaped him in a loud laugh. “They’ll be thrilled.” He whispered, absently carding his hand through her hair.
Lily plastered on a wavering smile, swallowing thickly. “Let’s go get our boys then, yeah?” She giggled and James couldn’t help but mimic the sound. She was so beautiful that it hurt. Everything about her was.
James turned, his hand latched onto Lily’s. Emmeline had already left, but James found he couldn’t remember when. He also found that he didn’t entirely care at the moment. He just wanted to get home so he glanced at Lily, sharing a nod before turning on his heel and apparating.
As soon as James’ feet touched the pavement, he knew something was wrong.
Normally, the air around their house was thick and heavy, weighed down with the magic twining itself as a shield around them. It felt like suffocating when they first set it up, but as with most things, they had adapted.
Now that was all gone, sucked dry. The air felt hot and scratchy against his face, like sand blowing into his face. Empty and dry.
A prickly feeling began to steal over him and he reached out a hand blindly to steady Lily who had stumbled, sucking in a sharp breath in surprise. Once she was steadied, James whipped around, his breath already hitching in panic. Merlin, no. Please, please, no.
There in front of him stood what was once his beautiful story house, but now… The front door was blown open, laying flat on the foyer. One of the lights on the stairwell flickered, sending dancing shadows over the room. The left side of the house was relatively intact but the right side…
The upper right corner of the house was completely blown away. Bits of wood and shingles littered the carefully manicured lawn, crushing the flower beds and dragging up great chunks of earth. One of the wooden beams hung precariously over what James knew to be the nursery.
“No,” he rasped out, his voice barely more than a puff of air. “No, I-” his words cut off with a strangled noise, lost in the devastation around him.
Lily had turned now too, after having inspected the street in front of her. As soon as she caught sight of the ruined house, a muffled shriek escaped her. Her knees quaked and gave out, slumping into the grass. One hand clutched at the neck of her shirt, tugging on it desperately as if she was being strangled by it whilst the other clenched into her hair.
“Oh, God, God, please, no, please,” she whimpered, her voice scaling upwards in pure desperation. James stood frozen by her, his back rigid as his heart thrummed in his chest. His mouth worked fruitlessly, his gaze flickering from each side of the house. How different they were. One side completely whole, housing the happy memories of a family and the other, a wrecked barren land. Dimly, he realized he was drawing his wand again, the familiar polished wood fitting perfectly in his hand. Lily wept by his side, her shoulders curved forward so her forehead was practically pressed against the dry grass.
Tears streamed down his face, blurring his vision but James found he did not care. He kept his gaze fixated on the door, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I have to go in. I have-I have to help,” he rasped out, the words tearing from his throat like glass.
Lily didn’t respond, her shoulders quivering in her sorrow. James bent over, pressing his palm into her shoulder. “Lily, do you hear me? I have to go in. I have to check and see if…” He couldn’t even bring himself to say it, a sob ripping through him.
“You just…you stay here, okay?” He whispered, stepping back. That finally got a reaction from Lily. Her head jerked up, tears still streaming down her face.
“What? No, no, I can’t just…just stay here,” her voice wavered, swinging on a pendulum on emotions. Her lashes clumped together in their misery, her chest still hitching. “They’re my friends, my son-” She choked on her words there, taking in a deep breath.
Then, with the bravery that earned her her house, she pushed herself to her feet, her slender hand pressing into the ground to steady her. She wavered and James reached out a hand, his palm brushing against the small of her back.
“Okay,” James whispered, his voice trembling as he tried to muster whatever courage he had left. “Okay, we’ll-we’ll go together.”
And so they did. The couple moved forward, James’ pinky linking with hers briefly, a short-lived touch of comfort. Even a brush of skin from Lily was enough to bolster him, to make him want to fight anything that could ever threaten her or their happiness.
It didn’t last very long. James stepped over the shattered remains of the door, his hand squeezing Lily’s as he guided her over the wreckage. His brain felt strangely detached as if it at any moment, his skull would open and his brain would cease to exist. Lily stifled her sniffles behind him, her breath hitching in her chest.
For a moment, James dared to believe that all would be well. Obviously there had been an attack, but perhaps Sirius and Remus had managed to fight and escape or maybe that had hidden themselves in the house somewhere.
James’ hopes were dashed as he climbed steadily up the stairs, his palm sweaty as he gripped his wand. Stepping onto the first landing, a harsh wail escaped his throat, his wand clattering onto the top step.
There, laying on the wooden landing, lay Sirius. He was splayed on his back, his raven locks spread around him like a mock halo. His wand was still in his hand, his fingers lightly curled around the dark wood.
Dimly, James heard Lily come up the stairs behind him, a sob ripping out of her throat as she tore her hand away from James’. James stumbled forward, his eyes blurring with tears as his throat hitched.
His knees gave out, thin whimpers escaping his throat. Perhaps Sirius had just fallen asleep. Lily had sleeping potions in the cabinet for sleepless nights; maybe Sirius had accidentally taken some.
“Sirius, Pads, Padfoot,” James rasped out, his shaking hand reaching out to shake his shoulders. His regal face remained still, his plump lips parted slightly. “ਭਾਈ, please.” He begged, reaching up to cup his brother’s face.
Tears slipped down James’ nose, pattering onto Sirius’ rumpled clothes. Sirius would never ignore James, no matter how mad they were or how unwell. They were connected, two souls intertwined, twin flames. Nothing could come between them, not even death. So they said.
Now James was staring down into the face of his best friend, forever still and silent. No more laughter. No more late night talks. No more shared looks. No more Marauders, for Sirius was dead and James had died with him, some part of his soul shriveling away.
James barely acknowledged Lily’s palm on his back, his shoulders quivering with the force of his cries. She was speaking, her words reverberating in his ears, echoing around in his skull.
“James, James, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice wavering and wobbling with her tears. “I-” her voice cut off as she swallowed thickly. Her head jerked up to the second stairwell, sucking in a sharp breath.
“Re-Remus, he could-he could still be alive. He-he’s a good dueller and- and Harry-” her voice cut off, her nails digging into his back briefly before she was pulling away. James did not look up, his hands carding through Sirius’ hair with shaking hands. He always loved his curls, so meticulously cared for. It was matted now, crushed from where he had been laying on the floor. Sirius would be furious.
Lily raced up the stairs, nearly tripping as she caught herself on the banister. James didn’t even move, still stroking back his hair. Distantly, he heard his wife’s frantic footsteps echoing above him. He knew he should get up and help her, knew he should be brave but he found he could not move from Sirius’s side, frozen as if he had stared into Medusa’s eyes.
A scream reverberated from upstairs and James’ head jerked up, his glasses slipping down his nose. His heart pounded in his chest as he scrambled for his wand, stumbling to his feet. He had taken one step to the stairs when Lily bounded down the steps, a bundle cradled against her chest.
For one horrifying moment, James’ breath was stuck in his throat, staring at the child in her arms. If Harry was dead then…
As if reading his thoughts, Harry whimpered, his tiny fists clenching in his mother’s sweater. James exhaled, scrambling over to them, taking Lily in his trembling arms and placing a tender kiss to his son’s head, his bleeding head, he realized.
On Harry’s forehead was a jagged lightning scar, oozing blood in a thin stream. A jolt of rage pierced through his heart at the thought of somebody hurting a child, especially his child. Then he realized that Lily was sobbing, her body rocking with the force of her cries.
“Lily-” he began, but Lily began speaking, her words rushing out in a steady stream.
“I-I went upstairs and the nursery door was torn open and-and I got so scared because it was so dark and- and then I stepped in and Remus-” Her words cut off with a sharp cry. James’ blood ran cold, tugging Lily and Harry further to his chest.
“And-And Remus was laying there on the floor in front of the crib like-like he had been protecting Harry. His wand was still in his hand and- and his hand-his hand was on the crib and Harry was calling out for his moon-moon. I-I tried, James, I tried to bring him back, but he was already gone and-” she wailed, burying her face back into James’ shirt.
Tears streamed down James’ face, shivering as he tried to hold his family together. Remus had easily been the best of them, patient and kind, never uttering a word in discomfort. His mind was unlike any other, the brains behind the operation and never once leaving any of them out. James remembered Remus hugging him after the horrific breakup between him and Regulus, keeping his private opinion to himself as he whispered placating comforts in his ears.
The way he made them all light up, especially Sirius. Sometimes James would watch the two of them with an aching chest, unable to fully process the pure love and admiration pouring off them. Sirius had told James privately a mere week ago that he wanted to marry Remus.
Another tragedy from this God-forsaken war. James swallowed back a whimper, carding his hands through Lily’s hair, both of their heads bowed together as they wept.
“It’s okay, it’s going to be okay, my flower,” he whispered, trying to keep the waver out of his voice. He took one of Harry’s hands in his own, letting his small fingers wrap around his own. “It’s going to be okay.”
James didn’t think he had ever told a bigger lie.