Chapter Text
01/11/1981
Remus had come back to reality at around 7:00 the morning after the full moon. Since graduating at Hogwarts Auror Alastor Moody had offered him a soft-enough bed in a locked basement. Curses put upon it prevented him from exiting once he had changed into “the beast”. Moody assured him that he would always be a helpful hand to his problem, his disease, his life. Once Remus was clothed and laying down comfortably Moody burst into the room. Remus practically jumped out of bed, still filled with the adrenaline of the night before.
“We have to go. It’s the Potters.”
Remus’ empty stomach dropped as if he already knew what had happened. Moody, the usually stoic, angry man, had never looked more upset in his life. Lily and James Potter were gone. And Remus Lupin, who twelve days out of the year was a ravenous killing machine, was the godfather to their son.
1981-1982
It had all happened so quickly. In one week, he was made official legal guardian to Harry James Potter, and two days after that he had moved out of his dingy studio flat and into the Potters' generational home. He didn’t deserve all of this, he thought. He wasn’t a Potter after all, not even a pureblood. If James were around though he’d tell him that's nonsense. He can practically hear his infectiously friendly voice saying, “You’re smarter than most purebloods out there, Moony.” Remus had been hearing voices lately too. Well, not just voices. He had been hearing Lily and James.
Thankfully for Remus he did still have some living friends. Peter Pettigrew helped Remus pack up all his things and move them to the house, Marlene Mckinnon has been helping Remus get used to the more maternal aspects of raising a child and her wife Mary Macdonald, a Wizard healer, came over with just about every medicine and pain ailment Harry would ever need. There's no doubt this kid will be cared for, but he deserved to know Lily and James. Know them like Remus knew them.
All of his friends, bless them, were beyond worried for Remus, even if they tried so hardly not to show it. Mary called once a week for the first two months making sure Harry had no symptoms of anything she could possibly think of, he hadn’t. She had her own baby at home to worry about anyways. Some weeks he didn’t pick up and Marlene would slyly send an owl over to check in. Peter offered to babysit for full moons, no matter how busy he was, which was a relief to Remus. He’d been so worried about Harry and his future that he wasn’t even thinking about his situation. He made a promise in his mind to keep that aspect of his life as far from Harry as possible. He would never find out. He deserved normalcy. Well, what he really deserved was his parents, but he has Remus.
Remus often found himself talking to Harry as if he was a grown man. He’d never been around kids being an only child and never expected to have any of his own. At least not anytime soon. Mary and Marlene reassured him that it was totally normal to not talk to him in that annoying high pitched baby voice and would actually probably work wonders for his own speech development, so Remus continued. He’d tell him about his troubles working as a writer for the Daily Prophet, about the business of the supermarket, and even about the best new album that had come out that month. One would think Harry’s ears would fall off after Combat Rock by The Clash came out, followed by Mirage by Fleetwood Mac. He’ll grow up with good music taste that’s for sure. Lily would’ve laughed at that. James would’ve done the biggest fakest eye roll followed by his warming smile. Lily would’ve loved Mirage.
Remus didn’t know if he should talk about them to Harry. Would it just make him sadder? Remus had no idea, and to his dismay neither did Marlene or Mary. Remus opted for talking about them in small amounts. If he talked about them as much as he thought about them, he’d never stop talking. One day when Harry’s older, he’ll tell him everything about his parents. How they fell in love, how smart they were, how talented they were, and how much they loved him. For now, he’d stick to talking about music that’s too loud, and his shitty boss. Harry seemed to like that. He had started laughing recently. A small breathy little giggle. In August Remus smiled for the first time in what felt like forever, because of that laugh. From then on, he vowed to make Harry feel as loved as Lily and James made Remus feel.
As the one-year anniversary rolled around Remus wanted to do anything but sit around moping and being all sad. Instead, he took Harry to the aquarium, where he bought him a little stuffed animal of a shark, brought him to an ice cream shop that him and James frequented on summer breaks from Hogwarts, and even a surprise visit to Auntie Marlene and Mary’s house, which they were overjoyed at.
“Say Maaaaa-rrrryyyy. Mary!” She said loudly, leaning standing in front of Harry, still sat in his wagon. . She’d been trying for months to no avail. He only ever says something close to Mala or just says Moony, which he’s nailed by now. Marlene entered the living room from the kitchen with two fresh mugs of tea and sat down next to Remus, placing one in his hands without even asking. She always had this sort of aggressive caring nature to her.
“You look nice. Happier.” She spoke in a nice calm hushed whisper. She knew Remus probably needed some calm and quietness. She’d known more than anyone what caring for a toddler was like right now. Her daughter, Freya, had just been put down for a nap, to much protest.
“Thanks. I think I feel happier. He helps.” Remus gestures to Harry over on the other side of the room with the mug in his hand before taking a long sip.
“I’m sure.” her voice trails off. There's a silence but it’s not awkward, it’s oddly calming. I guess Remus hasn’t realized how much he’s missed adult conversation till right now.
“You know every time I look at him, I think he’s got-”
“Lily’s eyes.” Remus stares in the direction of Harry but not quite at him directly, lost in thought.
“Yeah…Lily’s eyes.” They both take a sip of their tea in silence, now awkward.
“And James' stubbornness!” Mary laughs as she sits down on the armchair across from the pair exasperated. Can always count on her to break tension, or sadness. Whichever that was. After all they were both as much of Lily's friend as Remus is. Was.
“Freya go down okay, love?” Mary asks with as much warmth she can muster as someone who looks like she hasn’t slept in days.
“Yeah…for now.” Marlene said with a touch of dramatics that made all three share a laugh.
“God, Harry is just too perfect. How do you do it Moony?”
“Yeah, if you ever wanna trade for a day or two just let us kn-”
“No. I’m definitely good without that.” The two women laugh and Remus takes another sip through a content smirk.
“But you’re finding time for yourself too, right Moons?” Marlene asks, turning to face Remus on the couch.
“I mean, I’ve still got work, and I’ve had more time to read then ever actually, and I’ve taken up baking-”
“That’s not what she means.” And Remus knows what she means.
“I had one date a few months back and some cheap bar in town. Was boring. Left early.”
“Well, you should get out there more!” Mary declared excitedly. “Remember we’re always around to babysit.”
“I know…I know and thank you. I just- I have other priorities now.” Remus said kindly with a small smile. Harry was his priority and Remus was more than okay with that.
31/10/1983
For the past two years Remus Lupin has created a special occasion out of the worst day of his life. Big dinner, special outings, cake and sweets. He hopes to erase any memory his godson may have of that day. His parents' life should be remembered through celebration, not through graphic nightmares. Harry has already grown into a bright and energetic young boy. At only three years old he is already emulating his beautifully kind and selfless parents that Remus remembers so fondly. He feels he got so little time with James and Lily, so he has been granted a lifetime with Harry. It hasn’t been easy being thrown into the role of a parent, all alone. But he and Harry would be alone together, and that was alright for Remus.
They spent the whole day together. Doing some shopping at Diagon Alley, going to see a local teams Quidditch match, and to the park to see the changing leaves of the season. All things which violently reminded Remus of his best friends. On the night of the 31st Harry wanted to watch one of his favorite muggle films Remus had shown him, Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Ark, and requested a lemon cake. The boy had quite the sweet tooth, but so did Remus. The movie had just begun playing in the living room when Remus was taking the cake out of the oven. From the next room over sat Harry content and in waiting. All at once the peace of the night was disturbed. A large whoosh sound reverberated throughout the entire house and a wave of heat came from the doorway to the living room.
“Uncle Remus!” Harry yelps somewhat questioningly.
Remus slowly draws his wand and stalks his way into the area. Rounding the corner his eyes immediately fall to the crumpled mess of a man lying on the ground next to the lit fireplace, still shining a tone of green. He’s not dead. He’s shaking violently. His long black hair, curled in places that make little sense, is draped over his shoulders. The man, in full dress robes slowly looks up and his strained eyes fix on Harry sitting on the couch, just feet in front of him. A look of pure confusion runs across his face. Harry doesn’t speak or move but is staring back into the man's crystal blue eyes.
“James?”
-
-
Sirius POV
It was finally the night. The night that Sirius Orion Black was going to get out of this cursed house. If it was the last thing he did. He didn’t want to be in the house any more than he wanted to die in it. He deserved better than that and he knew it. To at least die somewhere beautiful. Like his brother. Smarter than him he always was. Regulus was smart enough to get out even if it was an escape straight to death.
It was another classic Black Pure Blood party. All those worthy in attendance. Malfoys, Goyles, Crouch’s. Every pure blood family besides the “traitorous Potters” as mother called them. All the most despicable people Sirius could imagine have walked this earth. Sirius was in his most prestigious clothes for the night. His three-piece black suit with a nice long coat to accompany it. His hair is an attempted slick back. His mother despises his hair, but every time she cuts it Sirius would conjure a regrow charm, so she’s given up in that area.
As it usually goes Sirius spoke out of turn or said something too “muggle minded” and was properly slapped across the face. Mostly by those not even of his own family. He was treated as the family's punching bag for years and had grown tired of not living up to his full potential that he knew he was to one day achieve.
Sirius hadn’t had the most awful childhood up until he turned 11. Sure, his parents were despicable people who controlled every aspect of his life, but outside of that he had his joys. And during those years his joys fell under one name, Potter. Sirius met James Potter in Diagonal Alley one day when they were four or five. From that point on they were insufferable. Mother was cautious of the friendship as the Potters were apparently people with “muddy politics” whatever that meant. But Sirius would lie to her and say they were studying all the time, reading old pure blood history books, and already practicing curses and hexes. But they did none of that. Not even close. Fleamont and Euphemia were more parents to Sirius than he had ever experienced in his life. And James, James was everything. Sirius had learned what it’s like to have a real brother through James, a real friend. They played harmless pranks on their parents and friendly neighbors, rode their quidditch brooms around the yard, and talked about how amazing Hogwarts was going to be once they got to go.
By the time both of the boys had turned 11 they were practically counting down the days till they received their Hogwarts letter. Sirius was supposed to be put in Slytherin and that was the extent of what his parents would tell him. James wanted to be in Gryffindor like his parents, so by default Sirius wanted to as well. That’s often how it went with the two. Wherever one wanted something really badly, the other followed suit. Once September rolled around James had received his Hogwarts letter, and Sirius hadn’t. He rushed home at once to ask his parents what must be wrong. And of course, as most things went, the only problem was his parents themselves.
“You will be sent off to Koldovstoretz in Russia! Not that muggle ridden school, Hogwarts. My son of pure blood is worthy of better than that.”
“But what about Jame-“
Sirius was properly slapped across the face. His mouth goes rigid as he bites his tongue. His father rarely spoke but frequently hit. It always said enough.
“When do I leave?”
“One week. Now off to bed. And I will hear none of that music nonsense. You are sent to your room to sleep only.”
“Yes Mother.”
And they left it at that.
When Sirius said bye to James the last time he made him a promise: “When I’m of age and can get out of here. I’ll find you.”
But now he’s 23 and although much older, his childhood wish must come true. He believes deep in his heart he is meant to be close to James Potter. He is his brother no matter what. He has to find him. Oh, how disappointed James will be when Sirius finds him and it took him an extra five years to escape. He’ll make some joke about how he’d have gotten out faster. Sirius would laugh because it would be true.
He’s hit so hard by some Abbott or Lestrange he feels tears fall down, which rarely happens. So, he runs. Runs as fast as he can as a man who’s been neglected food for three days because he was a “muggle sympathizer”. He sprints to the nearest fireplace in his estate and without thinking floo powder travels to the best place he can think of. The Potters living room. Even if James wasn’t there, Fleamont and Euphemia would be and surely, they’d recognize the kid they used to also call “son”.
Sirius spirals out onto the floor of the Potters living room, a shell of a man. Barely a man at all. But he’s out, he isn’t in that house. The warmth of the living room feels almost painful as he’s been in the cold for so long between Russia and the Black Estate. He looks up to the couch hoping to see that black floppy head of hair on James or the scratchy knit sweater of Euphemia or maybe even the twisted mustache of Fleamont he’d always laugh at. Slowly he looks up, adjusting to the warm lighting and in front of him is…
“James?”
He’s seeing James. It has to be James. It looks just like him. Did he time travel to when he first met him? Is he dead and the afterlife is the Potters living room? This is James Potter in front of him. A small, little boy, James Potter. But the eyes just aren’t exactly right.