Aug. 31st, 2010 04:47 pm
Fic: These Four Kings (Year Five 3/8)
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Title: These Four Kings (Year Five 3/8)
Author: Dani (
escribo)
Word Count: 3843
Rating: PG
(Pairings: in the future will be Remus/Sirius, Lily/James)
Timeline: November 18 1975
Notes: Thank you,
kiltsandlollies for the beta!
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. I've not made nor seek any profit.
Year 1: one/ two/ three/ four/ five/ six/ seven
Year 2: one/ two/ three/ four
Year 3: one/ two/three/four
Year 4 (coming in the future when work quits eating my brains! Sorry for the out-of-order-ness)
Year 5 one/ two
ETA:
mypretty_art created beautiful art to illustrate a moment in this chapter. Please have a look!
They’d only just returned to the Gryffindor Common Room when Remus received the message that Professor McGonagall wanted to see him in her office. James and Sirius looked at each other nervously, and Peter at his hands. They’d played a fantastic prank on Severus two nights before when Remus had been on patrol, and had been resting a little too easily on the idea that they hadn’t been caught. That Remus was the only one allowed out after curfew and so could possibly be blamed once Severus could speak again--and really, it had been a perfect plan--had occurred to them, or at least to James, but the risk had seemed worth it.
“It could just be about the full,” James whispered to Sirius as they watched Remus stiffly climb through the portrait. Remus had another three hours at least before he had to be in the infirmary, and the fact that Professor McGonagall had never before called him down to her office the night of the full made worry and guilt crawl across Sirius’ face, and Peter found the sight amazing.
“Yeah, I suppose so,” Sirius answered, but he looked unsure of himself--another elusive emotion for Sirius, and Peter would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy seeing it pass over Sirius’ face now just a little.
“I think I overheard Amerson say that they knew it was Remus who hexed Snape,” Peter said, nearly clapping his hand over his mouth because he hadn't really meant to say it out loud.
“You think?”
“It was noisy between classes.” Peter hadn’t heard anything of the sort, actually, but he reasoned it didn’t hurt Sirius Black a bit to think that maybe he’d been in the wrong about something every once in a while, and opportunities to point that out didn’t come up all that often. Never, actually, which was truly annoying. “He’d have gone to Slughorn, I’m sure. Remus’ll have detention for a month at least.”
“Right,” James said as he took off his glasses to clean the lenses on his shirttail. The prank had actually been James’ idea to begin with, but it hadn’t taken anything at all to convince Sirius to join in. They’d been at war for weeks, and Peter had no idea what had set it off. He’d got caught out twice so far; once with a pumpkin juice tainted with myrtleweed, which had made his head spin for hours, and another time with a jelly legs jinx meant for Sirius. Remus had uttered the counterjinx before anyone had seen Peter stagger about, and Peter thought that maybe he should feel bad for using Remus like this just for the chance to watch Sirius gnaw on his lip and stare at James for a solution.
"Right," James repeated, pushing his glasses back onto his nose. He clasped his hands together and nodded towards the portrait. "We'll go beneath the cloak, and if Remus gets more than a week's detention, we'll be out with it. He won't mind a week. McGonagall always goes easy on him anyway."
Peter volunteered to grab the cloak from James' trunk and took his time coming back down the stairs. It was harder to fit the three of them and impossible with four, and Peter liked having it all to himself sometimes. Hidden, he could hear the things he wanted to hear, the things people didn't want him to know. Coming down the stairs, he saw James talk in hurried, low tones to Sirius but stopped when he got closer, as if they knew he was there.
"Okay," James said. "Follow Sirius through the portrait, Peter. Remus will already be in McGonagall's office. You didn't do anything, so just stay hidden. Sirius and I will take care of it."
The halls leading to Professor McGonagall's office were quiet and deserted. Peter moved carefully between James and Sirius, all of them trying to make sure the cloak still covered their feet as they moved. They waited in the doorway of a disused classroom for what seemed like hours, though the sun shone on through the window at the end of the hall, so Peter knew it must have only been minutes. He was beginning to wonder why he'd come at all when the door to the office finally opened and Remus stepped out. Professor McGonagall followed him, still talking, though they couldn't hear anything until she stepped out into the hall.
"You'll have to pack your things tonight, Remus. You'll leave tomorrow, as soon as you're well enough to travel."
Peter felt Sirius give a start, and James grabbed Sirius’ shoulder to keep him from giving them away. Remus only nodded, his hands clasped together in front of him. The only other sign he gave that he was upset that Peter could see was the muscle in his jaw working hard against the argument Peter could only assume Remus wanted to give but couldn't. Expelled. The Marauders were often threatened with expulsion, but Peter couldn't believe that it was actually happening to any of them. It was just youthful exuberance, at least that was what Professor Dumbledore had called it. Snape hadn't even really been hurt, at least not too badly. Madame Pomfrey had said he wouldn't even scar.
"I can come up with you, if you'd like," Professor McGonagall continued on. "To help you explain to the other boys."
"No, please. I'll tell them myself."
The hall echoed with the sound of Remus' shoes as the exposed nail in the heel clicked on the floor when he took a quick step back. Peter had spent the better part of the month teasing him about that and he felt bad now. He could only think about how Remus wouldn't be there to help him pass his O.W.L.s, or to make Sirius stop teasing him.
"I am truly sorry, Remus. Professor Dumbledore is on his way back from London now. He'd like a word with you before you go down to the shack tonight."
Remus nodded again and took another step back. "Yes, ma'am. May I go back to my room, please?"
"Of course." Professor McGonagall watched him for a moment more before she suddenly turned away and retreated back inside her office. When her door closed, Remus stumbled back to sag against the wall and covered his face with his hands. Sirius shrugged off James' hand and slipped from beneath the cloak, running down the hall. He slid to a stop in front of Remus, his hands hovering over Remus' shoulders, as if he was afraid to touch him.
"Are you expelled just for that prank? I'll tell her it was me."
"Not expelled."
"Then what's wrong? Why do you have to leave? Did someone find out about--"
"No. It's my dad. They took him to the hospital but there was nothing they could do." Remus bent deep at his waist as if he was in pain and Peter closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at it, but he could still hear Remus. Hear his great, gasping breaths rend the air--crying. Remus was crying. He had never cried before, not even once. "What am I going to do, Sirius?"
Sirius pulled Remus into his arms and Remus went, crying against his shoulder. James stood with Peter beneath the cloak where it was suddenly hot and still before he shrugged it off, too, and went to where Sirius and Remus stood clinging to each other. James put his hand on Remus' shoulder and Sirius looked to James, his mouth a grim line.
Peter stayed where he was, hidden beneath the cloak, twisting his hands as if washing without water. He’d never known anyone who’d had a parent die before, not while they’d been at school. Peter didn’t know what to say or do. When James finally began to steer Sirius and Remus back down the hall back toward Gryffindor Tower, Peter followed silently behind until they were safe in their room and he could come out, while Sirius and James hovered around Remus and didn’t take notice of Peter at all. He left the cloak on James’ bed and crawled up onto his own, watching as Remus began to pack. His face was red and blotchy, and his movements stiff and awkward as the time drew nearer to his transformation, and Peter had to hold back from saying anything at all.
After a while, Sirius began to ask “Was it...,” leaving the words Death Eaters hanging in the air, and Peter sat up to hear his answer. That hadn’t occurred to him before, that Mr. Lupin’s death could have been caused by something so horrible, but he figured it made sense. His brother had told him that it would be the Muggle-born and the half-breeds who would be the first to go, and Peter understood what that meant now. Remus was a half-breed, though Peter was careful never to say so out loud, knowing that James wouldn’t like it--he and Sirius had hexed people for saying it, even when it wasn’t directed at Remus. Remus shook his head and carried on packing his bag.
"No,” Remus finally answered. “A heart attack."
"I don't understand," James said.
"I thought that was just something that happens to Muggles," Peter said. He’d heard of them before because a man in the pub his mum worked in had dropped dead, she’d said, right there before she could set his dinner down. A heart attack, she said, and he remembered, trying for years to find out how a heart could attack someone until his brother finally told him it was just an illness--a Muggle illness.
“My dad doesn’t use magic. Didn’t.” Remus corrected himself then pressed his fingertips into his forehead. “I have his wand.”
“I didn’t know you could use someone else’s wand.”
“Leave him alone, Peter.”
“It’s okay, Sirius. He wouldn’t have used it anyway. He promised my mum,” Remus said, but he looked like he was choking on the last words. “No magic--he promised.”
“C’mon Peter,” James said and came to sit on Peter’s bed with a chess set. Peter wanted to tell Sirius that it wasn’t fair, that he wasn’t the only person who was friends was Remus, but he said nothing. Instead he tried to focus on playing the game with James, though James was playing very poorly and Peter had to point out each time that it was his go. Sirius walked around the room, moody and restless until he finally stopped his pacing to stand very close to Remus.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Peter heard Sirius whisper, but Remus shook his head.
“You’ve class. Professor McGonagall won’t allow it.”
“Don’t have to tell her. I could figure it out.”
“She’ll be there at the--” Remus stopped and swallowed hard. “She’ll notice. Besides, I think I’ll be gone for a while.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re coming back though, right?”
“I don’t know, Sirius.”
James had stopped playing altogether and sat holding his queen in the palm of his hand, his eyes on where Remus and Sirius stood. As they watched, Sirius pushed Remus to sit on the bed and began to finish packing Remus’ bag himself. After a few minutes, Remus laid down and curled himself around his pillow. When Sirius was finished, Sirius sat next to him, his hand on Remus’ shoulder until it was time for Remus to go to the infirmary. Sirius left with him, and didn’t return until well after dinner, and after Peter had been in bed for a while.
James had had their map spread out on his bed, worried, Peter thought, that maybe Sirius would try to go to the Shrieking Shack, though Peter didn’t think so. He knew that Sirius sometimes hid in a cupboard near the owlery, and that Remus had purposely left it off the map. He wondered if James knew that, and thought maybe not.
Peter turned in his bed to watch as Sirius went to Remus' bag again. James joined him there, sitting on the edge of Remus' bed. They didn't talk as Sirius opened Remus’ bag and placed inside it a warm sweater that belonged to Sirius, and a book of poetry by someone called A. E. Housman--a gift from Sirius’ uncle that Sirius pretended he never read. Peter knew he had, though, and even knew which poem he read the most, because the pages automatically opened to it. He thought it was strange that Sirius was giving it to Remus, because if his own mum had died, Peter wouldn’t have wanted a book of stupid Muggle poetry. James must have thought so, too, because he opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when Sirius gave him a challenging look, daring him, it seemed, to speak at all. James was quiet until Sirius closed the bag again.
“He’ll come back,” James said, very quietly.
“I know.”
November 21, 1975 Friday
Sirius had never been to a funeral before, and certainly not a Muggle funeral. His mother said that funerals and weddings were no places for children, and he'd never much cared before. This was different, and Sirius had nothing to prepare him for what would happen--for the sadness he witnessed in Remus and his mum. Remus had stood silently next to his mother looking pale and wan, too soon after the full, not seeing anything it seemed. Sirius, wearing his school uniform, stood with Professor McGonagall and kept his eyes on Professor Dumbledore in his Muggle suit, because it was easier than looking at Remus.
Afterward, Professor Dumbledore had solemnly shaken Remus’ hand and gone back to Hogwarts while Sirius and Professor McGonagall had walked to Remus’ house for the wake. It was a small, neat, and painfully clean farmhouse, filled with people who had come to mourn Mr. Lupin. Sirius moved around the edges, looking for Remus but finding his mum first, sitting in the kitchen surrounded by three women who looked just like her--all pale watery eyes and blonde hair--who blinked at him as if he were some kind of wild animal. It was because he was a Wizard, he was sure they must have known, and he backed out of the room and fled up a flight of stairs. At the top, he stood still, his heart pounding in his chest as he wondered if they looked at Remus like that, too. He wondered if they really knew.
Sirius eased down the hall, very softly calling Remus’ name until he came to a door that was nearly pushed shut. He peaked inside and saw Remus sitting on his bed, now wearing Sirius’ bright red Gryffindor jumper and his hands clasped between his knees, and pushed the door open.
“Are you okay?” Sirius whispered.
“I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I went to see Professor Dumbledore. He said I could come. I didn’t tell James, but he would have come, too.”
“It’s okay.”
Sirius pushed the door open more and walked inside the room. Remus had gone back to staring at his hands and Sirius wasn’t sure what else to say. He paced around the room restlessly, touching everything and staring for a long time at the things that covered the top of Remus’ desk--rocks and shells that Remus must have found interesting, an eagle’s feather, an old pieced-together map. There were pictures, too, of Remus with his dad, with James and Peter, with Sirius. The one with Sirius moved: fourth year Sirius forever with his arms around Remus, tickling him as Remus laughed and squirmed to get away. On the windowsill there was a line of tiny toys, and Sirius picked one up, thinking it was a centaur until he looked at it more closely and realized that it was a Muggle toy--a knight on a horse made from tin. He brought it over to where Remus sat on his bed, looking pale and drawn, and Sirius sat next to him, their shoulders bumping as Sirius turned the toy over in his hand.
“McGonagall said we would have to leave soon.” Remus nodded but still said nothing. "I’ll send you loads of owls.”
Remus nodded again and Sirius didn’t say anything else, just studied the toy in his hand until he felt Remus sag against him a bit and began to play with the fringe on Sirius’ scarf. Sirius put his arm around Remus’ shoulder then and pulled him close. They sat there in silence while the sun set, lengthening the shadows in the room. When it was finally dark and all they could hear was the sound of voices as they called goodbyes as the door opened and shut, Remus turned his face up to Sirius and Sirius pressed his lips against Remus’ forehead. He had a sudden, distant memory of someone doing that once for him when he had been sick--one in his series of nannies, he supposed, though when he closed his eyes he could remember how she smelled (like honey and lavender) and how she’d felt to him (safe) if not her face or her name. He thought maybe that’s how it felt to Remus, too, because he reached up to cling to Sirius’ coat, his eyes squeezed shut.
“I’m sorry about your dad,” Sirius whispered.
“I can’t believe he’s gone. I don’t know what to do.” Remus opened his eyes and this close they were wide and glassy, and Sirius wished that he’d brought James. James would know what to do, he thought, how to make this better. It was that desire, to make things right and to offer a comfort that he was unfamiliar giving, that let Sirius slide his gaze down to Remus’ lips and lean forward. He could feel Remus’ breath quicken and his hands tighten into fists on Sirius’ coat, tugging him closer. It was only the sounds of shoes on the stairs that startled them both, and Sirius jumped to his feet and turned on the lamp next to the bed. His battered book of poetry sat next to a glass of water, a slip of paper peeking out from the pages.
“Sirius, I’m afraid it’s time for us to go,” Professor McGonagall said as she came into the room.
Sirius looked down to where Remus sat as he had when Sirius had first found him, staring again at his clasped hands. Two spots of pink burned on his pale cheeks, and Sirius couldn’t stop himself from reaching his hand out to him. Remus stood up and took Sirius’s hand, his cold fingers curling around Sirius’.
“I’m so very sorry, Remus,” Professor McGonagall said and Remus nodded his head, still holding tightly onto Sirius’ hand as if he’d like to keep him there, and Sirius wanted very much to stay.
“Thank you,” Remus whispered and then said it again, forcing his voice louder. Sirius turned and hugged Remus tight, and Remus buried his face into Sirius’ neck. They stayed like that until Professor McGonagall touched Sirius’ shoulder and he stepped back, putting his hand on her elbow. Remus looked up at him, his eyes red in his pale face, and then there was the sensation of spinning very fast before they landed in Hogsmeade, Sirius sprawling face first into the snow.
Sirius stayed down for a minute, not quite sure he wasn’t going to throw up while he registered the loss from Remus’ warm room, of Remus himself. Still in his hand, he found the tin knight and he held it up to look at it before he climbed to his feet.
On the way back to Hogwarts, Sirius silently trudged beside Professor McGonagall, his thoughts whirling enough to leave him with a headache pressing against his temples. It wasn’t until they were on the steps to the castle, when Professor McGonagall stopped him with a hand to arm, that he even realized how far they’d walked or how cold it was outside or even that Professor McGonagall was talking to him.
“It will be very hard for Remus when he comes back,” she was saying, her dark eyes boring into his own.
“But he is coming back.”
“Of course. His father would have wanted it that way.”
“His mother didn’t want him to come at all. I thought maybe now--”
“Professor Dumbledore has spoken with her.”
Sirius nodded, relieved, but he wasn’t sure what else to say because thank you seemed inappropriate on the day of Remus’ father’s funeral. He was saved from figuring it out when Professor McGonagall continued on.
“Mr. Black, you’ve always shown Remus great loyalty. I think it’s one of your best qualities.”
“He’s my best friend.”
“I thought that position was reserved for Mr. Potter.”
There was something in the way she held her mouth, something that suggested a smile, or rather a great kindness inside that Sirius had never known she possessed. “James is my brother,” he explained. “My real brother.”
“I see.” She contemplated him for a moment, drawing herself up to her full height, and Sirius felt like he did when he was eleven and received his first detention from her. It had felt like a solemn occasion then, too. He stood up straight, able now to meet her in the eyes, and waited for what she had to say. “What you did today was very kind. I’m glad Remus has a friend like you, Sirius, and I’m sure his father felt the same way. Life has not always been kind to the Lupins.”
“It’s not their fault.”
Professor McGonagall’s eyebrows shot up toward her hairline and her hand tightened on his arm. “I’m sorry?”
“What happened to Remus. It’s not their fault. Remus said that his dad always believed it was his fault that he was bitten, but it wasn’t.”
“So, you know--”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Since first year.”
“Peter and James as well?” Sirius nodded. “And you never told.”
Sirius startled again, drawing his arm away from Professor McGonagall. “We would never tell.”
“Then you know he has to be protected, Sirius. Especially now. Do I have your word?”
Sirius nodded again but said nothing else and Professor McGonagall turned on her heels and led them inside the castle. Once free, he took the stairs two by two all the way up to the owlery and crawled into the tiny cupboard beneath the staircase. He found James already inside, wrapped in his thick wool school robes and reading a book by the light of his wand.
“How was it?” James asked as Sirius shut the door behind them.
“Sad.”
“Is Remus okay?”
“He will be.” Sirius curled his hand around the tin knight again, feeling the tiny sword dig into his palm, and lowered his head to his knees. James whispered Nox and they were plunged into darkness. Sirius leaned heavily against James and fought to catch his breath.
next
Author: Dani (
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Word Count: 3843
Rating: PG
(Pairings: in the future will be Remus/Sirius, Lily/James)
Timeline: November 18 1975
Notes: Thank you,
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. I've not made nor seek any profit.
Year 1: one/ two/ three/ four/ five/ six/ seven
Year 2: one/ two/ three/ four
Year 3: one/ two/three/four
Year 4 (coming in the future when work quits eating my brains! Sorry for the out-of-order-ness)
Year 5 one/ two
ETA:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
They’d only just returned to the Gryffindor Common Room when Remus received the message that Professor McGonagall wanted to see him in her office. James and Sirius looked at each other nervously, and Peter at his hands. They’d played a fantastic prank on Severus two nights before when Remus had been on patrol, and had been resting a little too easily on the idea that they hadn’t been caught. That Remus was the only one allowed out after curfew and so could possibly be blamed once Severus could speak again--and really, it had been a perfect plan--had occurred to them, or at least to James, but the risk had seemed worth it.
“It could just be about the full,” James whispered to Sirius as they watched Remus stiffly climb through the portrait. Remus had another three hours at least before he had to be in the infirmary, and the fact that Professor McGonagall had never before called him down to her office the night of the full made worry and guilt crawl across Sirius’ face, and Peter found the sight amazing.
“Yeah, I suppose so,” Sirius answered, but he looked unsure of himself--another elusive emotion for Sirius, and Peter would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy seeing it pass over Sirius’ face now just a little.
“I think I overheard Amerson say that they knew it was Remus who hexed Snape,” Peter said, nearly clapping his hand over his mouth because he hadn't really meant to say it out loud.
“You think?”
“It was noisy between classes.” Peter hadn’t heard anything of the sort, actually, but he reasoned it didn’t hurt Sirius Black a bit to think that maybe he’d been in the wrong about something every once in a while, and opportunities to point that out didn’t come up all that often. Never, actually, which was truly annoying. “He’d have gone to Slughorn, I’m sure. Remus’ll have detention for a month at least.”
“Right,” James said as he took off his glasses to clean the lenses on his shirttail. The prank had actually been James’ idea to begin with, but it hadn’t taken anything at all to convince Sirius to join in. They’d been at war for weeks, and Peter had no idea what had set it off. He’d got caught out twice so far; once with a pumpkin juice tainted with myrtleweed, which had made his head spin for hours, and another time with a jelly legs jinx meant for Sirius. Remus had uttered the counterjinx before anyone had seen Peter stagger about, and Peter thought that maybe he should feel bad for using Remus like this just for the chance to watch Sirius gnaw on his lip and stare at James for a solution.
"Right," James repeated, pushing his glasses back onto his nose. He clasped his hands together and nodded towards the portrait. "We'll go beneath the cloak, and if Remus gets more than a week's detention, we'll be out with it. He won't mind a week. McGonagall always goes easy on him anyway."
Peter volunteered to grab the cloak from James' trunk and took his time coming back down the stairs. It was harder to fit the three of them and impossible with four, and Peter liked having it all to himself sometimes. Hidden, he could hear the things he wanted to hear, the things people didn't want him to know. Coming down the stairs, he saw James talk in hurried, low tones to Sirius but stopped when he got closer, as if they knew he was there.
"Okay," James said. "Follow Sirius through the portrait, Peter. Remus will already be in McGonagall's office. You didn't do anything, so just stay hidden. Sirius and I will take care of it."
The halls leading to Professor McGonagall's office were quiet and deserted. Peter moved carefully between James and Sirius, all of them trying to make sure the cloak still covered their feet as they moved. They waited in the doorway of a disused classroom for what seemed like hours, though the sun shone on through the window at the end of the hall, so Peter knew it must have only been minutes. He was beginning to wonder why he'd come at all when the door to the office finally opened and Remus stepped out. Professor McGonagall followed him, still talking, though they couldn't hear anything until she stepped out into the hall.
"You'll have to pack your things tonight, Remus. You'll leave tomorrow, as soon as you're well enough to travel."
Peter felt Sirius give a start, and James grabbed Sirius’ shoulder to keep him from giving them away. Remus only nodded, his hands clasped together in front of him. The only other sign he gave that he was upset that Peter could see was the muscle in his jaw working hard against the argument Peter could only assume Remus wanted to give but couldn't. Expelled. The Marauders were often threatened with expulsion, but Peter couldn't believe that it was actually happening to any of them. It was just youthful exuberance, at least that was what Professor Dumbledore had called it. Snape hadn't even really been hurt, at least not too badly. Madame Pomfrey had said he wouldn't even scar.
"I can come up with you, if you'd like," Professor McGonagall continued on. "To help you explain to the other boys."
"No, please. I'll tell them myself."
The hall echoed with the sound of Remus' shoes as the exposed nail in the heel clicked on the floor when he took a quick step back. Peter had spent the better part of the month teasing him about that and he felt bad now. He could only think about how Remus wouldn't be there to help him pass his O.W.L.s, or to make Sirius stop teasing him.
"I am truly sorry, Remus. Professor Dumbledore is on his way back from London now. He'd like a word with you before you go down to the shack tonight."
Remus nodded again and took another step back. "Yes, ma'am. May I go back to my room, please?"
"Of course." Professor McGonagall watched him for a moment more before she suddenly turned away and retreated back inside her office. When her door closed, Remus stumbled back to sag against the wall and covered his face with his hands. Sirius shrugged off James' hand and slipped from beneath the cloak, running down the hall. He slid to a stop in front of Remus, his hands hovering over Remus' shoulders, as if he was afraid to touch him.
"Are you expelled just for that prank? I'll tell her it was me."
"Not expelled."
"Then what's wrong? Why do you have to leave? Did someone find out about--"
"No. It's my dad. They took him to the hospital but there was nothing they could do." Remus bent deep at his waist as if he was in pain and Peter closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at it, but he could still hear Remus. Hear his great, gasping breaths rend the air--crying. Remus was crying. He had never cried before, not even once. "What am I going to do, Sirius?"
Sirius pulled Remus into his arms and Remus went, crying against his shoulder. James stood with Peter beneath the cloak where it was suddenly hot and still before he shrugged it off, too, and went to where Sirius and Remus stood clinging to each other. James put his hand on Remus' shoulder and Sirius looked to James, his mouth a grim line.
Peter stayed where he was, hidden beneath the cloak, twisting his hands as if washing without water. He’d never known anyone who’d had a parent die before, not while they’d been at school. Peter didn’t know what to say or do. When James finally began to steer Sirius and Remus back down the hall back toward Gryffindor Tower, Peter followed silently behind until they were safe in their room and he could come out, while Sirius and James hovered around Remus and didn’t take notice of Peter at all. He left the cloak on James’ bed and crawled up onto his own, watching as Remus began to pack. His face was red and blotchy, and his movements stiff and awkward as the time drew nearer to his transformation, and Peter had to hold back from saying anything at all.
After a while, Sirius began to ask “Was it...,” leaving the words Death Eaters hanging in the air, and Peter sat up to hear his answer. That hadn’t occurred to him before, that Mr. Lupin’s death could have been caused by something so horrible, but he figured it made sense. His brother had told him that it would be the Muggle-born and the half-breeds who would be the first to go, and Peter understood what that meant now. Remus was a half-breed, though Peter was careful never to say so out loud, knowing that James wouldn’t like it--he and Sirius had hexed people for saying it, even when it wasn’t directed at Remus. Remus shook his head and carried on packing his bag.
"No,” Remus finally answered. “A heart attack."
"I don't understand," James said.
"I thought that was just something that happens to Muggles," Peter said. He’d heard of them before because a man in the pub his mum worked in had dropped dead, she’d said, right there before she could set his dinner down. A heart attack, she said, and he remembered, trying for years to find out how a heart could attack someone until his brother finally told him it was just an illness--a Muggle illness.
“My dad doesn’t use magic. Didn’t.” Remus corrected himself then pressed his fingertips into his forehead. “I have his wand.”
“I didn’t know you could use someone else’s wand.”
“Leave him alone, Peter.”
“It’s okay, Sirius. He wouldn’t have used it anyway. He promised my mum,” Remus said, but he looked like he was choking on the last words. “No magic--he promised.”
“C’mon Peter,” James said and came to sit on Peter’s bed with a chess set. Peter wanted to tell Sirius that it wasn’t fair, that he wasn’t the only person who was friends was Remus, but he said nothing. Instead he tried to focus on playing the game with James, though James was playing very poorly and Peter had to point out each time that it was his go. Sirius walked around the room, moody and restless until he finally stopped his pacing to stand very close to Remus.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Peter heard Sirius whisper, but Remus shook his head.
“You’ve class. Professor McGonagall won’t allow it.”
“Don’t have to tell her. I could figure it out.”
“She’ll be there at the--” Remus stopped and swallowed hard. “She’ll notice. Besides, I think I’ll be gone for a while.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re coming back though, right?”
“I don’t know, Sirius.”
James had stopped playing altogether and sat holding his queen in the palm of his hand, his eyes on where Remus and Sirius stood. As they watched, Sirius pushed Remus to sit on the bed and began to finish packing Remus’ bag himself. After a few minutes, Remus laid down and curled himself around his pillow. When Sirius was finished, Sirius sat next to him, his hand on Remus’ shoulder until it was time for Remus to go to the infirmary. Sirius left with him, and didn’t return until well after dinner, and after Peter had been in bed for a while.
James had had their map spread out on his bed, worried, Peter thought, that maybe Sirius would try to go to the Shrieking Shack, though Peter didn’t think so. He knew that Sirius sometimes hid in a cupboard near the owlery, and that Remus had purposely left it off the map. He wondered if James knew that, and thought maybe not.
Peter turned in his bed to watch as Sirius went to Remus' bag again. James joined him there, sitting on the edge of Remus' bed. They didn't talk as Sirius opened Remus’ bag and placed inside it a warm sweater that belonged to Sirius, and a book of poetry by someone called A. E. Housman--a gift from Sirius’ uncle that Sirius pretended he never read. Peter knew he had, though, and even knew which poem he read the most, because the pages automatically opened to it. He thought it was strange that Sirius was giving it to Remus, because if his own mum had died, Peter wouldn’t have wanted a book of stupid Muggle poetry. James must have thought so, too, because he opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when Sirius gave him a challenging look, daring him, it seemed, to speak at all. James was quiet until Sirius closed the bag again.
“He’ll come back,” James said, very quietly.
“I know.”
Sirius had never been to a funeral before, and certainly not a Muggle funeral. His mother said that funerals and weddings were no places for children, and he'd never much cared before. This was different, and Sirius had nothing to prepare him for what would happen--for the sadness he witnessed in Remus and his mum. Remus had stood silently next to his mother looking pale and wan, too soon after the full, not seeing anything it seemed. Sirius, wearing his school uniform, stood with Professor McGonagall and kept his eyes on Professor Dumbledore in his Muggle suit, because it was easier than looking at Remus.
Afterward, Professor Dumbledore had solemnly shaken Remus’ hand and gone back to Hogwarts while Sirius and Professor McGonagall had walked to Remus’ house for the wake. It was a small, neat, and painfully clean farmhouse, filled with people who had come to mourn Mr. Lupin. Sirius moved around the edges, looking for Remus but finding his mum first, sitting in the kitchen surrounded by three women who looked just like her--all pale watery eyes and blonde hair--who blinked at him as if he were some kind of wild animal. It was because he was a Wizard, he was sure they must have known, and he backed out of the room and fled up a flight of stairs. At the top, he stood still, his heart pounding in his chest as he wondered if they looked at Remus like that, too. He wondered if they really knew.
Sirius eased down the hall, very softly calling Remus’ name until he came to a door that was nearly pushed shut. He peaked inside and saw Remus sitting on his bed, now wearing Sirius’ bright red Gryffindor jumper and his hands clasped between his knees, and pushed the door open.
“Are you okay?” Sirius whispered.
“I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I went to see Professor Dumbledore. He said I could come. I didn’t tell James, but he would have come, too.”
“It’s okay.”
Sirius pushed the door open more and walked inside the room. Remus had gone back to staring at his hands and Sirius wasn’t sure what else to say. He paced around the room restlessly, touching everything and staring for a long time at the things that covered the top of Remus’ desk--rocks and shells that Remus must have found interesting, an eagle’s feather, an old pieced-together map. There were pictures, too, of Remus with his dad, with James and Peter, with Sirius. The one with Sirius moved: fourth year Sirius forever with his arms around Remus, tickling him as Remus laughed and squirmed to get away. On the windowsill there was a line of tiny toys, and Sirius picked one up, thinking it was a centaur until he looked at it more closely and realized that it was a Muggle toy--a knight on a horse made from tin. He brought it over to where Remus sat on his bed, looking pale and drawn, and Sirius sat next to him, their shoulders bumping as Sirius turned the toy over in his hand.
“McGonagall said we would have to leave soon.” Remus nodded but still said nothing. "I’ll send you loads of owls.”
Remus nodded again and Sirius didn’t say anything else, just studied the toy in his hand until he felt Remus sag against him a bit and began to play with the fringe on Sirius’ scarf. Sirius put his arm around Remus’ shoulder then and pulled him close. They sat there in silence while the sun set, lengthening the shadows in the room. When it was finally dark and all they could hear was the sound of voices as they called goodbyes as the door opened and shut, Remus turned his face up to Sirius and Sirius pressed his lips against Remus’ forehead. He had a sudden, distant memory of someone doing that once for him when he had been sick--one in his series of nannies, he supposed, though when he closed his eyes he could remember how she smelled (like honey and lavender) and how she’d felt to him (safe) if not her face or her name. He thought maybe that’s how it felt to Remus, too, because he reached up to cling to Sirius’ coat, his eyes squeezed shut.
“I’m sorry about your dad,” Sirius whispered.
“I can’t believe he’s gone. I don’t know what to do.” Remus opened his eyes and this close they were wide and glassy, and Sirius wished that he’d brought James. James would know what to do, he thought, how to make this better. It was that desire, to make things right and to offer a comfort that he was unfamiliar giving, that let Sirius slide his gaze down to Remus’ lips and lean forward. He could feel Remus’ breath quicken and his hands tighten into fists on Sirius’ coat, tugging him closer. It was only the sounds of shoes on the stairs that startled them both, and Sirius jumped to his feet and turned on the lamp next to the bed. His battered book of poetry sat next to a glass of water, a slip of paper peeking out from the pages.
“Sirius, I’m afraid it’s time for us to go,” Professor McGonagall said as she came into the room.
Sirius looked down to where Remus sat as he had when Sirius had first found him, staring again at his clasped hands. Two spots of pink burned on his pale cheeks, and Sirius couldn’t stop himself from reaching his hand out to him. Remus stood up and took Sirius’s hand, his cold fingers curling around Sirius’.
“I’m so very sorry, Remus,” Professor McGonagall said and Remus nodded his head, still holding tightly onto Sirius’ hand as if he’d like to keep him there, and Sirius wanted very much to stay.
“Thank you,” Remus whispered and then said it again, forcing his voice louder. Sirius turned and hugged Remus tight, and Remus buried his face into Sirius’ neck. They stayed like that until Professor McGonagall touched Sirius’ shoulder and he stepped back, putting his hand on her elbow. Remus looked up at him, his eyes red in his pale face, and then there was the sensation of spinning very fast before they landed in Hogsmeade, Sirius sprawling face first into the snow.
Sirius stayed down for a minute, not quite sure he wasn’t going to throw up while he registered the loss from Remus’ warm room, of Remus himself. Still in his hand, he found the tin knight and he held it up to look at it before he climbed to his feet.
On the way back to Hogwarts, Sirius silently trudged beside Professor McGonagall, his thoughts whirling enough to leave him with a headache pressing against his temples. It wasn’t until they were on the steps to the castle, when Professor McGonagall stopped him with a hand to arm, that he even realized how far they’d walked or how cold it was outside or even that Professor McGonagall was talking to him.
“It will be very hard for Remus when he comes back,” she was saying, her dark eyes boring into his own.
“But he is coming back.”
“Of course. His father would have wanted it that way.”
“His mother didn’t want him to come at all. I thought maybe now--”
“Professor Dumbledore has spoken with her.”
Sirius nodded, relieved, but he wasn’t sure what else to say because thank you seemed inappropriate on the day of Remus’ father’s funeral. He was saved from figuring it out when Professor McGonagall continued on.
“Mr. Black, you’ve always shown Remus great loyalty. I think it’s one of your best qualities.”
“He’s my best friend.”
“I thought that position was reserved for Mr. Potter.”
There was something in the way she held her mouth, something that suggested a smile, or rather a great kindness inside that Sirius had never known she possessed. “James is my brother,” he explained. “My real brother.”
“I see.” She contemplated him for a moment, drawing herself up to her full height, and Sirius felt like he did when he was eleven and received his first detention from her. It had felt like a solemn occasion then, too. He stood up straight, able now to meet her in the eyes, and waited for what she had to say. “What you did today was very kind. I’m glad Remus has a friend like you, Sirius, and I’m sure his father felt the same way. Life has not always been kind to the Lupins.”
“It’s not their fault.”
Professor McGonagall’s eyebrows shot up toward her hairline and her hand tightened on his arm. “I’m sorry?”
“What happened to Remus. It’s not their fault. Remus said that his dad always believed it was his fault that he was bitten, but it wasn’t.”
“So, you know--”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Since first year.”
“Peter and James as well?” Sirius nodded. “And you never told.”
Sirius startled again, drawing his arm away from Professor McGonagall. “We would never tell.”
“Then you know he has to be protected, Sirius. Especially now. Do I have your word?”
Sirius nodded again but said nothing else and Professor McGonagall turned on her heels and led them inside the castle. Once free, he took the stairs two by two all the way up to the owlery and crawled into the tiny cupboard beneath the staircase. He found James already inside, wrapped in his thick wool school robes and reading a book by the light of his wand.
“How was it?” James asked as Sirius shut the door behind them.
“Sad.”
“Is Remus okay?”
“He will be.” Sirius curled his hand around the tin knight again, feeling the tiny sword dig into his palm, and lowered his head to his knees. James whispered Nox and they were plunged into darkness. Sirius leaned heavily against James and fought to catch his breath.
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