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fox_confessorTitle: The Old Lie, part 2/4
Username:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
escribo
Genre: action/adventure, romance
Rating: NC-17
WARNINGS: Violence, language, sex
Word Count 27,500 (this part roughly 7000 words)
Summary Magical AU. Seven years after the end of the war, Harry's new tutor turns out to have a secret and a crush on Sirius Black. When the past catches up to him, will it destroy the family he's finally found?
Author's Notes Originally written for the 2011![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
rsbigbang. Thank you to kiltsandlollies for the beta work. The title is a reference to the Wilifred Owen poem "Dolce Et Decorum Est".
***
Standing in the shadows beneath a great portrait shrouded behind curtains on the second floor of the Black mansion, the thief began to think that breaking into Grimmauld Place was actually more daring than the Gringotts job. It had been harder to plan, harder to execute, to be sure, and he was equally sure that being caught would have more severe consequences. A trap for thieves at Gringotts would have meant death, but being caught here likely meant being destroyed wholly--slowly, painfully, especially if it was the matriarch, Walburga, who caught him. He had tried to make sure that wouldn't happen, the last of his savings going to pay off old Mundungus Fletcher. Old Dung had fallen onto hard times since the war, but he’d owed the thief a favor and so had given him what information he could. It had been enough to get him inside.
There was no telling where the scroll would be hidden, though he suspected it had to be amongst the youngest son's possessions. The Blacks were one of the oldest Wizarding families, but they were falling apart, the old allegiances dissolved in the war and, by all accounts, the eldest son was uninterested in rebuilding what his father had once maintained. Lord Voldemort had sought their support and had almost gained it through Orion before his death. Orion had been too old to fight but had offered up his sons out of blood loyalty. Regulus and Sirius had had other ideas, though. They had loyalty to one another, and Sirius to James Potter, and all three of them to Albus Dumbledore. In the end, Sirius had been too rebellious, too open to make a good spy and so had sided openly with the Order of the Phoenix, but Regulus had fit the bill nicely.
They had actually been friends once, the thief and Regulus, long before Regulus' death. It was how he knew Regulus' history, knew he had the scroll, though Regulus hadn't known at the time it had come into his possession. In fact, the thief hadn't known either until he'd put together half-remembered discussions. Regulus had laughed, the thief remembered, though he'd been as evasive as ever, pleased with whatever he'd done and then it had made sense later--his death, the way he'd been murdered. The murderers had been searching for the scroll, certain Regulus had it, and they had been right.
At the top of the stairs, the thief paused next to the macabre display of the house elf heads, listening. The house was silent. In front of him there were two rooms, one door with R. A. B. elegantly engraved on a gold plate--Regulus--and the other with a hand-printed sign that read Keep out! This means you, Reg. Sirius. The thief grinned. He'd known Sirius at school, too, though they hadn't been friends. He'd been a prankster, Sirius, along with James Potter. They'd been wild, lovely boys.
The thief turned away from the door and his memories, toward Regulus' room. He had work to do and again, there was no time for nostalgia. There was only one more scrolls to find after this before he could destroy them all and finally avenge his father's murder.
***
Sirius had only been back for a few days, his trip to Oslo taking longer than he'd planned but resulting in a new seeker for his team and a few weeks' affair with a charming Russian Wizard. He'd thought maybe it was finally safe for him to return to Sunday dinner at the Potters with only a bit of ribbing from Lily about his supposed Gryffindor courage. James had only just laughed at him, offering no help at all until Lily had finally left them in front of the fire in James' study with drinks, peace, and promises that dinner wouldn't be too late.
A lull in the talk about Quidditch had settled over them and Sirius settled deeper into his chair, happier than he was willing to admit out loud to being back. James let him sit in silence, knowing, as James always seemed to, that there was something on his mind--something he'd come to eventually. James was kind like that, though Sirius still worried that he would hit the limit of James' good nature and patience one day
"So the new tutor is working out, then?" Sirius finally asked, breaking their silence.
"Better than we could have hoped for, actually."
"He's certainly stayed longer than the rest."
"He's different--smart--an intriguing man, actually. You'll meet him at dinner."
"Inviting the help?"
James snorted into his drink. "Don't be a snob."
"I'm not. I think it's delightful. Mother made all our tutors eat in the kitchen with the house elves. She didn't want to see them."
"Your mother would. It took Lily weeks to talk Remus into joining us for Sunday dinners. He's terribly shy, though once he opens up a bit you discover how well-versed he is."
"A proper Ravenclaw, then."
"Very much so. He's become a good friend to both Lily and I but the difference in Harry is amazing."
"That's good to hear. I know you were worried."
"We were. We hated to think that maybe what happened--the night it happened..." Sirius watched as James struggled with the memory of the night his family had been attacked. James had nearly lost both Lily and Harry, and in the turmoil, it was only some days later that it was discovered Peter had gone missing, was presumed dead. James still felt guilty for that, Sirius knew, but there'd been so much happening--too much. That's the way war had been for the foot soldiers. "We were afraid it caused some sort of damage. That it was more than just high spirits."
"He's all right, though?"
"Yeah, I think so. Remus thinks so, which is reassuring."
"So you're keeping him."
"Harry? I think so. We've both grown terribly fond of him despite his inability to keep his room clean."
"Prat. The tutor."
"Absolutely."
Sirius didn't say anything right away, only just sat still and quiet, biting at his thumbnail. A log collapsed in the fire, cracking and sending up a shot of sparks before Sirius finally found his voice again. "I've heard things about him, James."
"Have you been checking up on my tutor?"
"I'm protecting my family."
James leaned forward and patted Sirius on the knee. He was smiling--not mad, then, and Sirius dropped his shoulders in relief.
"What did you hear?" James asked.
"That he's a werewolf, but I figured that was a fairy story. Reg and I used to say worse about our tutors."
"Anything else?"
"There's a big question mark around where he was during the war. No one's heard of him, no one remembers him."
"Is that your real concern?"
"Yeah."
"So you think Professor Dumbledore would recommend a werewolf and a Death Eater as Harry's teacher?"
"No, of course not."
James looked at him for a long moment, a smile still on his lips. Sirius remembered that look from when they were boys and he was waiting for Sirius to catch up, to catch on to some idea he'd had. James didn't wait long. "He is a werewolf, as it happens."
"What?"
"But he wasn't aligned with Voldemort. Albus trusts him, so he had to be on our side."
"Wait," Sirius said, holding his hand up to stop the flow of James' words. He was quite sure he hadn't heard him correctly. "He's a werewolf?"
"This is just between you and me, Sirius. You can't tell anyone."
"I wouldn't." Sirius bristled at the thought that James felt he even had to remind Sirius, but James still had that look in his eyes. "I won't," Sirius protested again, but more quietly now.
"He's registered, you can see the mark on his arm so it's not really a secret. The Ministry burned it there, you know. All our advances in magic and they brand fellow Wizards as if they're animals, as if those bitten had any choice." James stopped, glanced up at Sirius and then back down to the whiskey in his hands. He drank it back, grimacing at the taste, and then set it down on the table between them before standing up to pace in front of the fire. Sirius suspected that James had a whole tirade going on in his head, one he'd probably been forced to give more than once.
"If he's registered, then other people know, yeah?"
"Yeah."
"You've had trouble?"
"A bit. Families are strongly encouraged not to hired werewolves. We had a visit from a Ministry man who gave us the name of some agencies who could provide, in their words, more suitable services." James leaned against the mantle, staring into the flames for a minute. "Did you know that Harry's actually reading now?"
"Is he?"
"He wouldn't settle to it before. We had tried everything but he hated it. He's rarely without a book now. And he's come along in maths and his handwriting’s improved--you had to see that in owls he's sent. He's bright, we always knew that, but it was so hard to watch him struggle."
"He doesn't struggle with Lupin."
"No. There are no more tantrums, no more struggling with bedtime. It's been a relief for us now that everything isn't such a constant fight. Our marriage is stronger for it. We're not giving Remus up. I don't even care if he does start eating the villagers."
Sirius barked out a laugh and James turned to him, grinning.
"So now you know, and I told you because you're the closest thing I have to a brother.”
"So you trust him.”
"Implicitly. Look, even if you do think I've gone 'round the bend for hiring a werewolf, I don't want you to worry, at least not about Remus. I told you he was registered. He spends the full moon in a Ministry detention center for his safety and everyone else's. And since that's the only time he's dangerous, it's fine."
"All right."
"And as far as the war, I can't imagine him having fought on either side, though I suspect Dumbledore found a use for him. I haven't asked. You'll meet him later and see. He's the mildest mannered person I've ever known."
"You do realize that you sound like you're in love with him."
It was James' turn to laugh now. "Maybe a bit. He'll be the only one of our friends that I tell you to stay away from."
"Now I know you're in love with him. You've only given me that warning once before and then you married her."
"Best decision in my entire life. Hiring Remus might be the second." James settled back into his chair, well pleased and well settled. "C'mon. Tell me how Walburga is getting along." James asked, drawing out her name.
"As miserable as ever." Sirius grimaced, still smarting from his visit to his mother's home earlier in the day. Their relationship had never been easy, her disappointment in him overwhelming at times, but with both his father and brother dead, he felt compelled every so often to try to be what she wanted--what she expected. It never lasted long, just as it hadn't when he was a teenager, and he always seemed to end up on James' doorstep, a bit battered from the experience. Still, the thought of his mother did bring to mind something that had been nagging at Sirius for some time. "Oi, James. Do you remember that break-in at Gringotts some months back?"
"Of course I do. Mad Eye brings it up at every staff meeting."
"So you've never caught the thief."
"No."
"Did you ever have a suspicion about who it might be?"
"Someone very clever," James began as he sat back into his chair. "Someone with an agenda, since whoever it was left money, jewelry, things that could have been easily sold on the black market. They were after something specific, and they knew where to find it."
"Were there ever any other break-ins reported?"
"No. The Yaxleys didn't want us to know about theirs either. We only found out because it was Gringotts. There was no hiding it. Are you about to tell me of another?"
"Can this just be between you and me?"
"If you want."
"I wouldn't care, but mother tried to forbid me to say anything even to you--especially to you, actually."
"Are you saying that Grimmauld Place was burgled?”
"It's likely that it would have gone unnoticed, except that mother interrupted him."
"She didn't stun the bugger?"
"Attempted to. She's sure it was a man, though outside of that she saw nothing of him. He was covered in a cloak and scarf." Sirius paused, tenting his fingers as he considered his next words. His mother had been quite upset--angry, not afraid--deigning to floo him, which he couldn’t ever remember her having done before. She had wanted him to come home immediately, bent on chasing this poor fellow through the streets of London if necessary. As she couldn't immediately determine anything had been taken and she positively did not want the Ministry involved, Sirius had refused. There were strict boundaries between them to maintain or he would be lost to her will, he knew. Telling James any part of this was part of that, especially in the things his mother considered most secret. "He was in Regulus' room."
"What? Why?"
"I can't imagine. She's kept it as a shrine, you know, and I think the thought of it being violated is what upset her more than the idea of someone making off with her silver."
"Do you know what was stolen?"
"Nothing, as far as I could tell, though maybe some papers if he had kept any there. His school trunk had been opened."
"Pried?"
"No, just opened as if the person had a key."
"Could he have?"
"No. Just like he couldn't have just walked into Grimmauld Place. To say my father and brother were security conscious is like saying I like Quidditch a bit. They were obsessive. I don't think I could have gotten into the trunk."
"But she doesn't know what was stolen."
"No."
There was a soft knock on the door and then Harry stuck his head in, his eyes lighting up when he saw Sirius. Sirius put his glass down and opened his arms, standing, bending to scoop Harry up to give him a hug. "Hello Harry. You've grown again."
"Too big to hold like we used to," James said.
"Are you staying for dinner, Sirius?" Harry asked.
"I thought I might."
"Mum says dinner's ready. Did you know I have a new tutor?"
"I might have heard something about him."
"This afternoon he showed me and mum how volcanoes work in the clearing by the woods."
"In the clearing?"
"It wasn't a real volcano, Sirius, only just something done up to look like one but it exploded and had lava and everything."
"Did he now?" James asked. "He said he'd let me see, too."
"This was just a test one. To make sure it worked."
"And did it?"
Harry nodded his head so that his wild mop of hair fell into his eyes. "He let me help with the potion. I did everything right, he said."
"Excellent, Harry. Go on and tell your mum we'll be right down."
Sirius put Harry down and watched him run from the room. "He really has grown."
"Like a weed,” James sighed. “Lily's had to charm his shoes twice so far since the summer so they wouldn't pinch his toes."
"I also see the real reason you like this Lupin fellow. If he's willing to blow things up--"
"More than willing." At the top of the stairs, James stopped suddenly and Sirius nearly ran into him. "Before we go down, Sirius, there's something I should tell you."
"About your live-in werewolf?"
"About Violeta, actually."
"Has she been invited?"
"Of course she has. She and Lily are still working on the manuscript for a new Potions textbook."
"How's that going?"
"Really well, actually. It's going to be better than anything we used in school. But listen, about her--she rather fancies Remus."
"Oh, I see. This fellow rates a set-up while you warn all your other friends off me."
"We don't warn them off. We couldn't possibly. People find you irresistible for some reason."
"Stunning good looks," Sirius began, ticking off his fingers. "Sparkling wit. Charming personality."
"Yes, yes. I read the article about the Wizarding world's most eligible bachelor as well. If only they'd lived with you for seven years."
"Eight, if you count the year before you got married."
"We simply caution them on the dangers of dating Sirius Black." James pushed a hand through his hair irritably at Sirius' teasing. "And there's no we by the way. This is Lily's idea. She doesn't like the thought of Remus being on his own. She thinks he'd do well with a wife."
"Violeta?"
"She seems interested, though I don't know that she's really his type."
"Does she know about him?"
"I imagine so."
"So Lily doesn't mind it for me? That I'm alone."
"Rarely so; besides, I thought you liked being alone--the lone wolf and all that."
"The lone wolf? How very 70s of you."
"If you want us to set you up with someone--"
"I really don't."
"Then why all the fuss?"
"I don't know."
"Is it because she was in Slytherin? That didn't seem to put you off."
"What? No. I can't believe you brought up the idea of house loyalty. We're not still in school."
"Is it because he's a werewolf?"
"No. Yes." Sirius jammed his hands in his pockets, unable to meet James' eyes. "I've never met one before."
"Well, tonight you will have done, and if you're not half in love with him yourself by dessert, I'll be surprised. I'm not a good judge, of course, but Lily tells me he's quite fit."
"So Lily's in love with him as well?"
"Quite. I only mentioned it at all because I know you and Violeta--"
"James. It's thoroughly over. I've no interest in the girl at all. I've certainly no interest in being someone's husband. In fact, I'm not interested in seeing anyone at all for a bit."
***
Remus had been convinced he wouldn't be as welcome at the Potters’ Sunday dinners as Lily promised. There were always a lot of Ministry people who came along, she'd said, as well as friends and family, some who knew he was a werewolf or would suss it out quickly enough, even if it wasn't for the registration number that sometimes refused to be covered by long sleeves and jumpers. He was also convinced, having lived alone for so long, that he was happy enough being on his own, and that he wouldn't make good company--that he couldn't make friends. He'd been happy to be proved wrong, though he certainly wasn't telling Lily that, lest she decide he enjoyed her and Molly Weasley's matchmaking attempts.
Violeta was a nice enough girl, pretty and smart. She didn't seem to care that he was a werewolf or poor, and Remus thought that maybe he was being ungrateful by being disinterested. Not that he could help it. He thought it would be a greater unkindness to feign something he didn't--couldn't--feel toward her. Especially when his indifference didn't extend to the man sitting at James' right hand side at the head of the table.
Sirius was just as handsome as he had been as a boy, older of course--they all were--and hardened some by the war. There was still a sparkle in his eyes, same as before, though then the curve of his lips had held mischief rather than the doubt and suspicion he'd shown when James had introduced them a couple of Sundays before. Remus hadn't blamed him. He knew Sirius' war record, knew--as the entire Wizarding world knew--that he'd been a hero, though heroes rarely thought of themselves that way, and so it was with Sirius. Besides, as a werewolf, Remus was used to cold greetings and misgivings.
It'd quickly been replaced though, over the last few weeks, by a kind of reluctant friendship through James and Lily. Though often, just when Remus thought that Sirius was seeing straight through him--as if he didn't really exist, just like when they'd been in school, then Remus would find himself caught in Sirius' evaluating gaze, as if he were being stripped bare and laid open for whatever nefarious purpose those piercing gray eyes held. It was during those rare times that he'd try not to squirm or look away self-consciously since he himself was all too aware of Sirius Black and he felt sure that Sirius couldn't mean anything in return. It embarrassed him--painfully so--that just seeing Sirius made him feel like the same schoolboy who could look but never touch, and left him with so much desire that he was nearly breathless each time it happened. Remus could have gone on happily like that for the rest of his life--having those scant moments of feeling as though Sirius had struck a match in the core of his being with just one spare look.
It happened again a month after they'd met when Remus, finished with his dinner, was distracted, struggling to keep his attention on Violeta and their conversation while James and Sirius held court. She laughed a little too brightly at a comment he made, leaning into him with her soft hand on his arm, and he withdrew, trying to be kind--trying to fish an excuse from his pockets to leave, and quickly. He looked to his hosts, meaning to form the words of goodbye, but found Sirius openly staring at him, unmistakably so. Remus lost his voice, suddenly willing to stay precisely where he was, and curled his hand into a fist around his napkin on the table as Violeta continued to prattle on. He considered himself saved from making a complete prat of himself when Molly Weasley spoke up, breaking through the flow of Violeta's words.
"Remus, I do wish you'd come to the Burrow and see what you can do about the boggart," Molly said from where she sat across from him with her two youngest children on either side of her. Ron was comparing chocolate frog cards with Harry, and they both looked up, keenly interested, when Molly spoke. "With Arthur gone to Romania to get Bill settled, it's giving the children an awful fright."
"Of course, Molly. Arthur mentioned it before he left and I forgot," Remus said as he quickly stood, reaching for his cane, though it sounded to him like it was more than the children who were afraid. Whatever the case, he was glad for the excuse to escape. "I'll go immediately. In the grandfather clock you said?"
"Can I go, Remus?" Harry abandoned his cards and raced around the end of the table to tug on Remus' sleeve.
"Me too, mum, if Harry goes? It was only Ginny who was scared."
"I was not, Ronald Weasley!"
"You were too!"
"I should be allowed to go, too, mum, if Ron goes."
"I don't mind," Remus said, interrupting what could become a blazing row between to the two Weasley children if they weren't distracted. "At least if your mothers say it's all right."
"Please, mum? A boggart!" Harry ran to Lily's side. "Remus said I might watch the next time."
"Professor Lupin, Harry," Lily said, laughing as Harry fell to his knees and raised his clasped hands. "Oh go on, Molly, or we'll never hear the end of it."
"Oh, alright. Since it's Remus, but not you Ginny." The boys gave twin triumphant shouts and ran to get their cloaks as Ginny's face turned into a storm cloud and she crossed her freckled arms over her chest. "You've only just got over your cold. I'll not have you going out into the night air."
"Mum!"
"No arguments."
"May we apparate?" Harry asked Remus, meaning he wanted to do a side-along apparation with Remus, as they had done when visiting the museums in London.
"No, Harry," Lily said. "Professor Lupin can't take both of you. You'll have to go by floo."
"I think I'll go as well, if Professor Lupin doesn't mind." Remus hands froze as he was fastening his cloak around his neck when Sirius spoke. "It'll be quicker than floo if we each take one of the boys."
"Of course, if you'd like," Remus said quietly, kicking himself for how breathless he sounded, as if he were a young Witch being asked out for the first time. He cleared his throat and finished fastening his cloak as he told himself--sternly--that Sirius was simply curious to see how Remus, leaning heavily on his cane and likely looking as if a strong wind might blow him over, would expel a boggart. Suddenly self-conscious in his faded, secondhand jumper and trousers gone shiny in the knees, Remus stood up straighter and forced himself to look away from Sirius. "And when we get back, Ginny, we'll see if there isn't a book you'd like to borrow, all right? I have a new set of fables you might like."
"I wanted to read that next!" Harry said loudly before James cleared his throat, giving him a pointed look. Harry's cheeks turned red, embarrassed to be reprimanded in front of both Remus and Sirius, Remus wagered, especially by how quickly he gave in. "I suppose it'd be fair if you got to first, though, Ginny."
"All right, boys, let's be off. Harry, why don't you go with your godfather. Ready, boys?"
Remus reached for Ron's hand and as they stepped outside before apparating, landing a moment later in the lane near the Weasley's house. It was quiet, the sun only having just set, and they didn't speak as they walked. Harry still held on tight to Sirius' hand and Ron walked close beside Remus, both he and Harry clearly nervous now that they were about to come face-to-face with a real boggart.
Remus was nervous for his own reasons, mostly having to do with Sirius being so close, close enough that Remus could smell his aftershave. He smelled good, and Remus was so busy scolding himself about being too old for crushes, no matter how attractive the man, and especially considering all that had happened since they both left Hogwarts. Remus didn't normally hold romantic notions, having had his heart hardened through the war and the injustices that he suffered--and still suffered--as a werewolf. Still, it was a sharp (and if Remus was being honest, welcome) reminder that he was still human, despite some people's insistence to the contrary. He couldn't help but notice how broad Sirius' shoulders were and how well he wore his Muggle clothing, and how his black hair gleamed in the moonlight. He couldn't quite dispel the desire to tug it free from the thin red string that Sirius had used to tie it back and watch as it dusted his collar. So caught up was Remus in the kind of ridiculous thoughts he assumed he'd finished having as a lad--and chastising himself for having them in the first place--that he barely noticed when they'd arrived at the Burrow, much less that the wards weren't right. It wasn't until he put his hand on the door knob that he recognized it.
"There's unfamiliar magic here," he whispered as he took a step back, pushing Ron more firmly behind him. He drew his wand and closed his eyes, trying to sense something--anything--that would explain why the hairs on the back of his neck had risen.
"A family member?" Sirius asked.
"Charlie and Percy are at Hogwarts, the twins are with family in Cheshire and Arthur took Bill to Romania. They won't be back until Tuesday. This is..." Remus looked down at Ron and Harry who were looking up at him with big, nervous eyes. "No worries, boys," he said with false cheer. "Stay right here with your Uncle Sirius, Harry, Ron, yes? I'll just pop inside and have a look, shall I?"
"You promised about the boggart, professor," Harry said, and Remus had to smile at the boy's bravado.
"You're absolutely right, Harry. I won't forget." Remus rested his hand on Harry's unruly hair for just a second before he pushed Ron a bit closer to Sirius then went inside the house.
He searched through the rooms quickly, his nose wrinkling at the faint, harsh scent of brimstone prevailing through the house. It tugged at some memory in a dark corner of Remus' mind but he tried not to let himself linger over it, though it became harder still when he entered the kitchen. There on the table amid the dishes and books and abandoned art projects was a tattered picture pinned with a knife, the spell on it weak so that the people barely moved. There were well worn creases criss-crossing its surface, as if it had been repeatedly folded and carried around in a pocket. Remus recognized many of the people in it as former Order of the Phoenix members--Gideon and Fabian Prewitt, the Potters and Sirius, Alice and Frank Longbottom, among others. He wasn't pictured, of course--he had never even attended one of their meetings, not ever. There was one other member he recognized, someone who reportedly never missed a meeting but whose face was scratched out of this photo: Peter Pettigrew. On the back of the photo was a crude drawing of a snake chasing its tail. The magic here was strong--fresh--and the meaning was clear.
Remus whispered the words Finite Incantatum and watched as the movement of the snake slowed and stopped. It was sloppy magic, crudely done, as if with a borrowed or stolen wand. There was little point in trying to discover who had created it, but Remus muttered the spell anyway. Nothing. He picked it up and walked back to the door. The boys were standing close together in Sirius' shadow from the light spilling from the door. Sirius' eyes were bright silver discs in the moonlight and he gripped his wand at his side. He said nothing when Remus came out.
"Whoever it was has gone," Remus said. He held out his hand to show the picture to Sirius but held it high enough so that the boys couldn't see. "They left this."
Sirius took it and looked it over front and back, staring for a long time at the snake. "A message, and a not a pleasant one. For Arthur, I suppose."
"Perhaps. Though as the last of the Prewitts..." Remus trailed off, troubled, and took back the picture before he closed his fingers around it firmly and put it into his pocket. It would be best to give it to Professor Dumbledore, he decided.
"Are you ready, boys?" Remus said again as he withdrew his wand once more and took a step back inside. He was more than a little surprised when Sirius put his hand on Remus’ shoulder to stop him.
"What are you doing?" Sirius asked.
"It's perfectly safe for the boys to come inside. I've been all through the house, and I did tell Molly I would take care of the boggart."
"The boggart?" Sirius gaped at Remus, and Remus couldn't believe he was still thinking about how handsome Sirius was.
"Whoever was here is long gone,” Remus said, more firmly this time. “And I did promise."
Remus went back indoors, bringing up the lights with a flick of his wand. He stopped just inside the threshold and looked back to Sirius and the boys, who were looking up at Sirius, clearly wanting to follow Remus. Finally Sirius allowed it, huffing out a breath before he led the boys through the doorway. Sirius, his wand still held tight in his hand, moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with Remus in front of the old grandfather clock.
"Don't be alarmed, boys," Remus said after a few moments of silence, and the clock gave a heave in response. "It's best to approach these things with a group, if you can. Do you remember why, Ron?"
Ron looked up, stunned to have been asked the question, and then straightened up, clearing his throat. "Because it'll get confused?"
"Exactly. When I open the casing, there will be a moment when the boggart won't know who to land on when it sees all four of us here."
"It takes the shape of your worst fear, doesn't it, professor?"
"Exactly, Harry, but don't worry. I'll step forward and it'll settle on me quick enough. Now, on the count of three. One. Two. Three!"
Remus opened the casing with a flick of his wand and the boggart spun confusedly before Remus stepped forward as he had promised. He raised his wand, the Riddikulus spell on his lips as he prepared to envision the sight he expected to see--the moon transformed into a balloon that would quickly lose its air. He had performed this bit of magic dozens of times and he raised his wand almost lazily, conscious of Sirius by his side and the boys watching him. The boggart spun and stopped, building into the form of a man, and Remus' hand began to shake as he recognized the face in front of him. Rabastan Lestrange.
Remus hesitated. The face before him was handsome, with bright blue eyes and full lips curled into something that hinted the cruel sneer they so often formed, just as they had often done in life. Remus was transported back to the night he had been captured, just before the turn of the war, and tortured by Rabastan and his brother, Rodolphus. He'd not been to an Order of Phoenix meeting, no, but he had worked for their cause nonetheless. He'd barely survived, his knee shattered along with his nerves, and the cane he'd carried ever since clattered to the floor as he fought to remember the word of the spell--its tone and inflection, to find some way to make Rabastan ridiculous.
In the end, Sirius stepped in front of him and the image of Rabastan swirled and faded, spinning into something that Remus couldn't make out--a dark haired phantom, its mouth stretched wide as if to swallow them all whole. It never gained clearer shape before Sirius spoke the spell in a clear, strong voice. The sound of it shook Remus from his trance and he shook his head violently, raising his wand again. Together, they wrestled the boggart into the box Molly had told Remus he should use and trapped it there. For a long moment, they were all silent, staring at the crate.
"I'm sorry about that," Remus whispered and then cleared his throat. He looked at Sirius and then away, embarrassed. "It usually takes another form. I wasn't expecting that."
"Was that Rabastan Lestrange?"
"Unfortunately."
"He's dead."
"Of that I'm quite sure." Remus put his wand away and pushed his shaking hand through his hair. He'd killed Rabastan himself just outside a small village some years ago. Even after all that had happened, he hadn't meant to hurt Rabastan--hadn't gone there to commit that particular bit of violence, and he prided himself on having done it out of protection, not revenge. Remus found that he wanted to explain this to Sirius, to make him understand, but stopped as he caught the look on Harry's ever curious face as he stood clutching Remus' cane.
"The picture reminded me of things best forgotten," Remus said as he took back the cane, grateful for the moment to have it to lean on. He looked down at his knuckles white on the handle before he shook himself and forced a smile to his lips, even if it was a bit grim.
"Chocolate," he said into the silence, and pulled from the depth of some hidden pocket a chunk of Honeydukes, which he broke off, giving a piece first to Ron and Harry each before breaking another chunk in half and handing a share to Sirius before taking a bite himself. "Go on, boys. It'll help."
It took some minutes after to usher the boys back outside. They seemed to have finally found their voices again, the chocolate working its own magic to soothe and calm. Sirius had lifted the crate with the boggart and secured it outside and away from the house, and went to work once more at Remus' side to restore and reinforce the wards on the Burrow. This time Remus didn't let himself think of Sirius other than to admire the way the man handled the complicated spells, building and weaving their magic to prevent whoever had broken through from getting back in again. When they were finished, Remus forced himself to look after the boys, promising himself that when he was home--when he was alone in his cottage--then he could think of what had happened. Not before, and certainly not in front of anyone--not in front of Sirius. He had suffered enough, he'd decided, granting himself that at least.
"That was one of the bad men," Harry said as they walked back down the lane. He and Ron had been whispering to one another in that way little boys have, no longer afraid at all. It startled Remus that Harry might know who the Lestrange brothers had been. "Wasn't it, professor? One of those who fought for Him."
"Voldemort, Harry," Remus said, ignoring Sirius' look of surprise, though he must know that James had always taught Harry to say the name. Remus supposed it was still rare to find anyone outside the Order willing to say it as well.
"Yes, but it was, wasn't it?"
"It was just a boggart, though, remember Harry; you, too, Ron," Remus said, wondering for a moment if maybe he was saying it more for himself. "What you saw wasn't real."
"But that was what you're most afraid of, that man."
"Not usually, Harry. The boggart usually takes a very different form, but tonight, yes. I was reminded of a very dark time and should have probably heeded your godfather's words but--"
For a minute, Remus didn't go on, just leaned heavily on his cane while the children and Sirius watched him. He felt pale--faded and vulnerable in the moonlight, his eyes dark and distant. Harry reached out to put his hand into Remus' and Remus smiled sadly at Harry, grateful for that bit of comfort. "C'mon, boys. I'll take you home and then come back for the boggart. I know a small, abandoned cottage where he'll be quite happy."
"Can boggarts be happy?" Ron asked.
"Well, not as happy as when they're terrorizing someone, but they do like small, dark places, so maybe it'll be a good home."
"Maybe we should leave it for the morning," Sirius said, the first he's spoken since they were inside the house. "I'm sure Molly will feel safer if she and the children stay at Godric's Hollow tonight."
"You're right, of course, Sirius." Remus forced himself to meet Sirius' eyes, expecting to find pity--he was used to that--and certainly none of the burning intensity that would catch him so by surprise each time it happened. What he found instead was open curiosity, and that, he thought, was more disconcerting than nearly anything else that had happened that night. Remus felt himself blush under the intensity of Sirius' gaze and looked away, down at his feet and then to Harry. "Are you ready to go?" He asked, once more forcing a smile, and Harry nodded.
They apparated back and Remus was glad--relieved--when Sirius sent the boys inside the house, warning them to keep quiet--that he would explain things to their mums--before they ran off. Remus turned to go as well, feeling that perhaps he should go and speak with James, Lily, and Molly himself but willing to misunderstand Sirius' intention. He felt a bit desperate to be alone for a bit, to be on his own in case he did something inane like cry. He'd had enough of embarrassing himself in front of Sirius. He only made it a few steps down the path toward his cottage before Sirius spoke, stopping him.
"Are you all right?" Sirius asked.
"Fine. I'm fine." Remus opened and closed his mouth. He was anything but, though he couldn't begin to find the words to explain that to Sirius. "I would have never taken the boys had I known that would happen."
"I know."
"I suppose I should go inside and talk to--"
"No, I will. You look spent."
"I'm fine," Remus said again. "Just--"
"Remus, during the war--" Sirius spoke in a rush, taking a step toward Remus, his hand outstretched before he stopped, widened his stance and put his hands on his hips. He looked uncharacteristically hesitant, and Remus drank up the sight, once again reminded of the boy Sirius had once been--brash and bold yet curiously awkward when he thought no one was watching. Remus was always watching, even now.
"It's complicated," Remus said, forestalling a conversation that he still wasn't sure he should be having even after all these years. He felt he had already said too much, already given too much away. "I'll speak with Professor Dumbledore tomorrow. About the picture."
"Of course." Sirius stared at him for another moment, his eyes soft, the concern evident, and that, too, was unexpected. "You must be tired. Go on. I'll explain things here."
"Thank you. I'm glad--I'm glad you were there tonight. Good night, Sirius."
"Good night."
Remus walked slowly down the path toward his cottage, leaning more heavily on his cane than he normally did. When he looked back, just as the path curved deeper into the woods, he found that Sirius was still watching him. He raised his hand impulsively before catching himself, and was more than surprised when Sirius waved back.
part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4
Username:
escriboGenre: action/adventure, romance
Rating: NC-17
WARNINGS: Violence, language, sex
Word Count 27,500 (this part roughly 7000 words)
Summary Magical AU. Seven years after the end of the war, Harry's new tutor turns out to have a secret and a crush on Sirius Black. When the past catches up to him, will it destroy the family he's finally found?
Author's Notes Originally written for the 2011
rsbigbang. Thank you to kiltsandlollies for the beta work. The title is a reference to the Wilifred Owen poem "Dolce Et Decorum Est". Standing in the shadows beneath a great portrait shrouded behind curtains on the second floor of the Black mansion, the thief began to think that breaking into Grimmauld Place was actually more daring than the Gringotts job. It had been harder to plan, harder to execute, to be sure, and he was equally sure that being caught would have more severe consequences. A trap for thieves at Gringotts would have meant death, but being caught here likely meant being destroyed wholly--slowly, painfully, especially if it was the matriarch, Walburga, who caught him. He had tried to make sure that wouldn't happen, the last of his savings going to pay off old Mundungus Fletcher. Old Dung had fallen onto hard times since the war, but he’d owed the thief a favor and so had given him what information he could. It had been enough to get him inside.
There was no telling where the scroll would be hidden, though he suspected it had to be amongst the youngest son's possessions. The Blacks were one of the oldest Wizarding families, but they were falling apart, the old allegiances dissolved in the war and, by all accounts, the eldest son was uninterested in rebuilding what his father had once maintained. Lord Voldemort had sought their support and had almost gained it through Orion before his death. Orion had been too old to fight but had offered up his sons out of blood loyalty. Regulus and Sirius had had other ideas, though. They had loyalty to one another, and Sirius to James Potter, and all three of them to Albus Dumbledore. In the end, Sirius had been too rebellious, too open to make a good spy and so had sided openly with the Order of the Phoenix, but Regulus had fit the bill nicely.
They had actually been friends once, the thief and Regulus, long before Regulus' death. It was how he knew Regulus' history, knew he had the scroll, though Regulus hadn't known at the time it had come into his possession. In fact, the thief hadn't known either until he'd put together half-remembered discussions. Regulus had laughed, the thief remembered, though he'd been as evasive as ever, pleased with whatever he'd done and then it had made sense later--his death, the way he'd been murdered. The murderers had been searching for the scroll, certain Regulus had it, and they had been right.
At the top of the stairs, the thief paused next to the macabre display of the house elf heads, listening. The house was silent. In front of him there were two rooms, one door with R. A. B. elegantly engraved on a gold plate--Regulus--and the other with a hand-printed sign that read Keep out! This means you, Reg. Sirius. The thief grinned. He'd known Sirius at school, too, though they hadn't been friends. He'd been a prankster, Sirius, along with James Potter. They'd been wild, lovely boys.
The thief turned away from the door and his memories, toward Regulus' room. He had work to do and again, there was no time for nostalgia. There was only one more scrolls to find after this before he could destroy them all and finally avenge his father's murder.
Sirius had only been back for a few days, his trip to Oslo taking longer than he'd planned but resulting in a new seeker for his team and a few weeks' affair with a charming Russian Wizard. He'd thought maybe it was finally safe for him to return to Sunday dinner at the Potters with only a bit of ribbing from Lily about his supposed Gryffindor courage. James had only just laughed at him, offering no help at all until Lily had finally left them in front of the fire in James' study with drinks, peace, and promises that dinner wouldn't be too late.
A lull in the talk about Quidditch had settled over them and Sirius settled deeper into his chair, happier than he was willing to admit out loud to being back. James let him sit in silence, knowing, as James always seemed to, that there was something on his mind--something he'd come to eventually. James was kind like that, though Sirius still worried that he would hit the limit of James' good nature and patience one day
"So the new tutor is working out, then?" Sirius finally asked, breaking their silence.
"Better than we could have hoped for, actually."
"He's certainly stayed longer than the rest."
"He's different--smart--an intriguing man, actually. You'll meet him at dinner."
"Inviting the help?"
James snorted into his drink. "Don't be a snob."
"I'm not. I think it's delightful. Mother made all our tutors eat in the kitchen with the house elves. She didn't want to see them."
"Your mother would. It took Lily weeks to talk Remus into joining us for Sunday dinners. He's terribly shy, though once he opens up a bit you discover how well-versed he is."
"A proper Ravenclaw, then."
"Very much so. He's become a good friend to both Lily and I but the difference in Harry is amazing."
"That's good to hear. I know you were worried."
"We were. We hated to think that maybe what happened--the night it happened..." Sirius watched as James struggled with the memory of the night his family had been attacked. James had nearly lost both Lily and Harry, and in the turmoil, it was only some days later that it was discovered Peter had gone missing, was presumed dead. James still felt guilty for that, Sirius knew, but there'd been so much happening--too much. That's the way war had been for the foot soldiers. "We were afraid it caused some sort of damage. That it was more than just high spirits."
"He's all right, though?"
"Yeah, I think so. Remus thinks so, which is reassuring."
"So you're keeping him."
"Harry? I think so. We've both grown terribly fond of him despite his inability to keep his room clean."
"Prat. The tutor."
"Absolutely."
Sirius didn't say anything right away, only just sat still and quiet, biting at his thumbnail. A log collapsed in the fire, cracking and sending up a shot of sparks before Sirius finally found his voice again. "I've heard things about him, James."
"Have you been checking up on my tutor?"
"I'm protecting my family."
James leaned forward and patted Sirius on the knee. He was smiling--not mad, then, and Sirius dropped his shoulders in relief.
"What did you hear?" James asked.
"That he's a werewolf, but I figured that was a fairy story. Reg and I used to say worse about our tutors."
"Anything else?"
"There's a big question mark around where he was during the war. No one's heard of him, no one remembers him."
"Is that your real concern?"
"Yeah."
"So you think Professor Dumbledore would recommend a werewolf and a Death Eater as Harry's teacher?"
"No, of course not."
James looked at him for a long moment, a smile still on his lips. Sirius remembered that look from when they were boys and he was waiting for Sirius to catch up, to catch on to some idea he'd had. James didn't wait long. "He is a werewolf, as it happens."
"What?"
"But he wasn't aligned with Voldemort. Albus trusts him, so he had to be on our side."
"Wait," Sirius said, holding his hand up to stop the flow of James' words. He was quite sure he hadn't heard him correctly. "He's a werewolf?"
"This is just between you and me, Sirius. You can't tell anyone."
"I wouldn't." Sirius bristled at the thought that James felt he even had to remind Sirius, but James still had that look in his eyes. "I won't," Sirius protested again, but more quietly now.
"He's registered, you can see the mark on his arm so it's not really a secret. The Ministry burned it there, you know. All our advances in magic and they brand fellow Wizards as if they're animals, as if those bitten had any choice." James stopped, glanced up at Sirius and then back down to the whiskey in his hands. He drank it back, grimacing at the taste, and then set it down on the table between them before standing up to pace in front of the fire. Sirius suspected that James had a whole tirade going on in his head, one he'd probably been forced to give more than once.
"If he's registered, then other people know, yeah?"
"Yeah."
"You've had trouble?"
"A bit. Families are strongly encouraged not to hired werewolves. We had a visit from a Ministry man who gave us the name of some agencies who could provide, in their words, more suitable services." James leaned against the mantle, staring into the flames for a minute. "Did you know that Harry's actually reading now?"
"Is he?"
"He wouldn't settle to it before. We had tried everything but he hated it. He's rarely without a book now. And he's come along in maths and his handwriting’s improved--you had to see that in owls he's sent. He's bright, we always knew that, but it was so hard to watch him struggle."
"He doesn't struggle with Lupin."
"No. There are no more tantrums, no more struggling with bedtime. It's been a relief for us now that everything isn't such a constant fight. Our marriage is stronger for it. We're not giving Remus up. I don't even care if he does start eating the villagers."
Sirius barked out a laugh and James turned to him, grinning.
"So now you know, and I told you because you're the closest thing I have to a brother.”
"So you trust him.”
"Implicitly. Look, even if you do think I've gone 'round the bend for hiring a werewolf, I don't want you to worry, at least not about Remus. I told you he was registered. He spends the full moon in a Ministry detention center for his safety and everyone else's. And since that's the only time he's dangerous, it's fine."
"All right."
"And as far as the war, I can't imagine him having fought on either side, though I suspect Dumbledore found a use for him. I haven't asked. You'll meet him later and see. He's the mildest mannered person I've ever known."
"You do realize that you sound like you're in love with him."
It was James' turn to laugh now. "Maybe a bit. He'll be the only one of our friends that I tell you to stay away from."
"Now I know you're in love with him. You've only given me that warning once before and then you married her."
"Best decision in my entire life. Hiring Remus might be the second." James settled back into his chair, well pleased and well settled. "C'mon. Tell me how Walburga is getting along." James asked, drawing out her name.
"As miserable as ever." Sirius grimaced, still smarting from his visit to his mother's home earlier in the day. Their relationship had never been easy, her disappointment in him overwhelming at times, but with both his father and brother dead, he felt compelled every so often to try to be what she wanted--what she expected. It never lasted long, just as it hadn't when he was a teenager, and he always seemed to end up on James' doorstep, a bit battered from the experience. Still, the thought of his mother did bring to mind something that had been nagging at Sirius for some time. "Oi, James. Do you remember that break-in at Gringotts some months back?"
"Of course I do. Mad Eye brings it up at every staff meeting."
"So you've never caught the thief."
"No."
"Did you ever have a suspicion about who it might be?"
"Someone very clever," James began as he sat back into his chair. "Someone with an agenda, since whoever it was left money, jewelry, things that could have been easily sold on the black market. They were after something specific, and they knew where to find it."
"Were there ever any other break-ins reported?"
"No. The Yaxleys didn't want us to know about theirs either. We only found out because it was Gringotts. There was no hiding it. Are you about to tell me of another?"
"Can this just be between you and me?"
"If you want."
"I wouldn't care, but mother tried to forbid me to say anything even to you--especially to you, actually."
"Are you saying that Grimmauld Place was burgled?”
"It's likely that it would have gone unnoticed, except that mother interrupted him."
"She didn't stun the bugger?"
"Attempted to. She's sure it was a man, though outside of that she saw nothing of him. He was covered in a cloak and scarf." Sirius paused, tenting his fingers as he considered his next words. His mother had been quite upset--angry, not afraid--deigning to floo him, which he couldn’t ever remember her having done before. She had wanted him to come home immediately, bent on chasing this poor fellow through the streets of London if necessary. As she couldn't immediately determine anything had been taken and she positively did not want the Ministry involved, Sirius had refused. There were strict boundaries between them to maintain or he would be lost to her will, he knew. Telling James any part of this was part of that, especially in the things his mother considered most secret. "He was in Regulus' room."
"What? Why?"
"I can't imagine. She's kept it as a shrine, you know, and I think the thought of it being violated is what upset her more than the idea of someone making off with her silver."
"Do you know what was stolen?"
"Nothing, as far as I could tell, though maybe some papers if he had kept any there. His school trunk had been opened."
"Pried?"
"No, just opened as if the person had a key."
"Could he have?"
"No. Just like he couldn't have just walked into Grimmauld Place. To say my father and brother were security conscious is like saying I like Quidditch a bit. They were obsessive. I don't think I could have gotten into the trunk."
"But she doesn't know what was stolen."
"No."
There was a soft knock on the door and then Harry stuck his head in, his eyes lighting up when he saw Sirius. Sirius put his glass down and opened his arms, standing, bending to scoop Harry up to give him a hug. "Hello Harry. You've grown again."
"Too big to hold like we used to," James said.
"Are you staying for dinner, Sirius?" Harry asked.
"I thought I might."
"Mum says dinner's ready. Did you know I have a new tutor?"
"I might have heard something about him."
"This afternoon he showed me and mum how volcanoes work in the clearing by the woods."
"In the clearing?"
"It wasn't a real volcano, Sirius, only just something done up to look like one but it exploded and had lava and everything."
"Did he now?" James asked. "He said he'd let me see, too."
"This was just a test one. To make sure it worked."
"And did it?"
Harry nodded his head so that his wild mop of hair fell into his eyes. "He let me help with the potion. I did everything right, he said."
"Excellent, Harry. Go on and tell your mum we'll be right down."
Sirius put Harry down and watched him run from the room. "He really has grown."
"Like a weed,” James sighed. “Lily's had to charm his shoes twice so far since the summer so they wouldn't pinch his toes."
"I also see the real reason you like this Lupin fellow. If he's willing to blow things up--"
"More than willing." At the top of the stairs, James stopped suddenly and Sirius nearly ran into him. "Before we go down, Sirius, there's something I should tell you."
"About your live-in werewolf?"
"About Violeta, actually."
"Has she been invited?"
"Of course she has. She and Lily are still working on the manuscript for a new Potions textbook."
"How's that going?"
"Really well, actually. It's going to be better than anything we used in school. But listen, about her--she rather fancies Remus."
"Oh, I see. This fellow rates a set-up while you warn all your other friends off me."
"We don't warn them off. We couldn't possibly. People find you irresistible for some reason."
"Stunning good looks," Sirius began, ticking off his fingers. "Sparkling wit. Charming personality."
"Yes, yes. I read the article about the Wizarding world's most eligible bachelor as well. If only they'd lived with you for seven years."
"Eight, if you count the year before you got married."
"We simply caution them on the dangers of dating Sirius Black." James pushed a hand through his hair irritably at Sirius' teasing. "And there's no we by the way. This is Lily's idea. She doesn't like the thought of Remus being on his own. She thinks he'd do well with a wife."
"Violeta?"
"She seems interested, though I don't know that she's really his type."
"Does she know about him?"
"I imagine so."
"So Lily doesn't mind it for me? That I'm alone."
"Rarely so; besides, I thought you liked being alone--the lone wolf and all that."
"The lone wolf? How very 70s of you."
"If you want us to set you up with someone--"
"I really don't."
"Then why all the fuss?"
"I don't know."
"Is it because she was in Slytherin? That didn't seem to put you off."
"What? No. I can't believe you brought up the idea of house loyalty. We're not still in school."
"Is it because he's a werewolf?"
"No. Yes." Sirius jammed his hands in his pockets, unable to meet James' eyes. "I've never met one before."
"Well, tonight you will have done, and if you're not half in love with him yourself by dessert, I'll be surprised. I'm not a good judge, of course, but Lily tells me he's quite fit."
"So Lily's in love with him as well?"
"Quite. I only mentioned it at all because I know you and Violeta--"
"James. It's thoroughly over. I've no interest in the girl at all. I've certainly no interest in being someone's husband. In fact, I'm not interested in seeing anyone at all for a bit."
Remus had been convinced he wouldn't be as welcome at the Potters’ Sunday dinners as Lily promised. There were always a lot of Ministry people who came along, she'd said, as well as friends and family, some who knew he was a werewolf or would suss it out quickly enough, even if it wasn't for the registration number that sometimes refused to be covered by long sleeves and jumpers. He was also convinced, having lived alone for so long, that he was happy enough being on his own, and that he wouldn't make good company--that he couldn't make friends. He'd been happy to be proved wrong, though he certainly wasn't telling Lily that, lest she decide he enjoyed her and Molly Weasley's matchmaking attempts.
Violeta was a nice enough girl, pretty and smart. She didn't seem to care that he was a werewolf or poor, and Remus thought that maybe he was being ungrateful by being disinterested. Not that he could help it. He thought it would be a greater unkindness to feign something he didn't--couldn't--feel toward her. Especially when his indifference didn't extend to the man sitting at James' right hand side at the head of the table.
Sirius was just as handsome as he had been as a boy, older of course--they all were--and hardened some by the war. There was still a sparkle in his eyes, same as before, though then the curve of his lips had held mischief rather than the doubt and suspicion he'd shown when James had introduced them a couple of Sundays before. Remus hadn't blamed him. He knew Sirius' war record, knew--as the entire Wizarding world knew--that he'd been a hero, though heroes rarely thought of themselves that way, and so it was with Sirius. Besides, as a werewolf, Remus was used to cold greetings and misgivings.
It'd quickly been replaced though, over the last few weeks, by a kind of reluctant friendship through James and Lily. Though often, just when Remus thought that Sirius was seeing straight through him--as if he didn't really exist, just like when they'd been in school, then Remus would find himself caught in Sirius' evaluating gaze, as if he were being stripped bare and laid open for whatever nefarious purpose those piercing gray eyes held. It was during those rare times that he'd try not to squirm or look away self-consciously since he himself was all too aware of Sirius Black and he felt sure that Sirius couldn't mean anything in return. It embarrassed him--painfully so--that just seeing Sirius made him feel like the same schoolboy who could look but never touch, and left him with so much desire that he was nearly breathless each time it happened. Remus could have gone on happily like that for the rest of his life--having those scant moments of feeling as though Sirius had struck a match in the core of his being with just one spare look.
It happened again a month after they'd met when Remus, finished with his dinner, was distracted, struggling to keep his attention on Violeta and their conversation while James and Sirius held court. She laughed a little too brightly at a comment he made, leaning into him with her soft hand on his arm, and he withdrew, trying to be kind--trying to fish an excuse from his pockets to leave, and quickly. He looked to his hosts, meaning to form the words of goodbye, but found Sirius openly staring at him, unmistakably so. Remus lost his voice, suddenly willing to stay precisely where he was, and curled his hand into a fist around his napkin on the table as Violeta continued to prattle on. He considered himself saved from making a complete prat of himself when Molly Weasley spoke up, breaking through the flow of Violeta's words.
"Remus, I do wish you'd come to the Burrow and see what you can do about the boggart," Molly said from where she sat across from him with her two youngest children on either side of her. Ron was comparing chocolate frog cards with Harry, and they both looked up, keenly interested, when Molly spoke. "With Arthur gone to Romania to get Bill settled, it's giving the children an awful fright."
"Of course, Molly. Arthur mentioned it before he left and I forgot," Remus said as he quickly stood, reaching for his cane, though it sounded to him like it was more than the children who were afraid. Whatever the case, he was glad for the excuse to escape. "I'll go immediately. In the grandfather clock you said?"
"Can I go, Remus?" Harry abandoned his cards and raced around the end of the table to tug on Remus' sleeve.
"Me too, mum, if Harry goes? It was only Ginny who was scared."
"I was not, Ronald Weasley!"
"You were too!"
"I should be allowed to go, too, mum, if Ron goes."
"I don't mind," Remus said, interrupting what could become a blazing row between to the two Weasley children if they weren't distracted. "At least if your mothers say it's all right."
"Please, mum? A boggart!" Harry ran to Lily's side. "Remus said I might watch the next time."
"Professor Lupin, Harry," Lily said, laughing as Harry fell to his knees and raised his clasped hands. "Oh go on, Molly, or we'll never hear the end of it."
"Oh, alright. Since it's Remus, but not you Ginny." The boys gave twin triumphant shouts and ran to get their cloaks as Ginny's face turned into a storm cloud and she crossed her freckled arms over her chest. "You've only just got over your cold. I'll not have you going out into the night air."
"Mum!"
"No arguments."
"May we apparate?" Harry asked Remus, meaning he wanted to do a side-along apparation with Remus, as they had done when visiting the museums in London.
"No, Harry," Lily said. "Professor Lupin can't take both of you. You'll have to go by floo."
"I think I'll go as well, if Professor Lupin doesn't mind." Remus hands froze as he was fastening his cloak around his neck when Sirius spoke. "It'll be quicker than floo if we each take one of the boys."
"Of course, if you'd like," Remus said quietly, kicking himself for how breathless he sounded, as if he were a young Witch being asked out for the first time. He cleared his throat and finished fastening his cloak as he told himself--sternly--that Sirius was simply curious to see how Remus, leaning heavily on his cane and likely looking as if a strong wind might blow him over, would expel a boggart. Suddenly self-conscious in his faded, secondhand jumper and trousers gone shiny in the knees, Remus stood up straighter and forced himself to look away from Sirius. "And when we get back, Ginny, we'll see if there isn't a book you'd like to borrow, all right? I have a new set of fables you might like."
"I wanted to read that next!" Harry said loudly before James cleared his throat, giving him a pointed look. Harry's cheeks turned red, embarrassed to be reprimanded in front of both Remus and Sirius, Remus wagered, especially by how quickly he gave in. "I suppose it'd be fair if you got to first, though, Ginny."
"All right, boys, let's be off. Harry, why don't you go with your godfather. Ready, boys?"
Remus reached for Ron's hand and as they stepped outside before apparating, landing a moment later in the lane near the Weasley's house. It was quiet, the sun only having just set, and they didn't speak as they walked. Harry still held on tight to Sirius' hand and Ron walked close beside Remus, both he and Harry clearly nervous now that they were about to come face-to-face with a real boggart.
Remus was nervous for his own reasons, mostly having to do with Sirius being so close, close enough that Remus could smell his aftershave. He smelled good, and Remus was so busy scolding himself about being too old for crushes, no matter how attractive the man, and especially considering all that had happened since they both left Hogwarts. Remus didn't normally hold romantic notions, having had his heart hardened through the war and the injustices that he suffered--and still suffered--as a werewolf. Still, it was a sharp (and if Remus was being honest, welcome) reminder that he was still human, despite some people's insistence to the contrary. He couldn't help but notice how broad Sirius' shoulders were and how well he wore his Muggle clothing, and how his black hair gleamed in the moonlight. He couldn't quite dispel the desire to tug it free from the thin red string that Sirius had used to tie it back and watch as it dusted his collar. So caught up was Remus in the kind of ridiculous thoughts he assumed he'd finished having as a lad--and chastising himself for having them in the first place--that he barely noticed when they'd arrived at the Burrow, much less that the wards weren't right. It wasn't until he put his hand on the door knob that he recognized it.
"There's unfamiliar magic here," he whispered as he took a step back, pushing Ron more firmly behind him. He drew his wand and closed his eyes, trying to sense something--anything--that would explain why the hairs on the back of his neck had risen.
"A family member?" Sirius asked.
"Charlie and Percy are at Hogwarts, the twins are with family in Cheshire and Arthur took Bill to Romania. They won't be back until Tuesday. This is..." Remus looked down at Ron and Harry who were looking up at him with big, nervous eyes. "No worries, boys," he said with false cheer. "Stay right here with your Uncle Sirius, Harry, Ron, yes? I'll just pop inside and have a look, shall I?"
"You promised about the boggart, professor," Harry said, and Remus had to smile at the boy's bravado.
"You're absolutely right, Harry. I won't forget." Remus rested his hand on Harry's unruly hair for just a second before he pushed Ron a bit closer to Sirius then went inside the house.
He searched through the rooms quickly, his nose wrinkling at the faint, harsh scent of brimstone prevailing through the house. It tugged at some memory in a dark corner of Remus' mind but he tried not to let himself linger over it, though it became harder still when he entered the kitchen. There on the table amid the dishes and books and abandoned art projects was a tattered picture pinned with a knife, the spell on it weak so that the people barely moved. There were well worn creases criss-crossing its surface, as if it had been repeatedly folded and carried around in a pocket. Remus recognized many of the people in it as former Order of the Phoenix members--Gideon and Fabian Prewitt, the Potters and Sirius, Alice and Frank Longbottom, among others. He wasn't pictured, of course--he had never even attended one of their meetings, not ever. There was one other member he recognized, someone who reportedly never missed a meeting but whose face was scratched out of this photo: Peter Pettigrew. On the back of the photo was a crude drawing of a snake chasing its tail. The magic here was strong--fresh--and the meaning was clear.
Remus whispered the words Finite Incantatum and watched as the movement of the snake slowed and stopped. It was sloppy magic, crudely done, as if with a borrowed or stolen wand. There was little point in trying to discover who had created it, but Remus muttered the spell anyway. Nothing. He picked it up and walked back to the door. The boys were standing close together in Sirius' shadow from the light spilling from the door. Sirius' eyes were bright silver discs in the moonlight and he gripped his wand at his side. He said nothing when Remus came out.
"Whoever it was has gone," Remus said. He held out his hand to show the picture to Sirius but held it high enough so that the boys couldn't see. "They left this."
Sirius took it and looked it over front and back, staring for a long time at the snake. "A message, and a not a pleasant one. For Arthur, I suppose."
"Perhaps. Though as the last of the Prewitts..." Remus trailed off, troubled, and took back the picture before he closed his fingers around it firmly and put it into his pocket. It would be best to give it to Professor Dumbledore, he decided.
"Are you ready, boys?" Remus said again as he withdrew his wand once more and took a step back inside. He was more than a little surprised when Sirius put his hand on Remus’ shoulder to stop him.
"What are you doing?" Sirius asked.
"It's perfectly safe for the boys to come inside. I've been all through the house, and I did tell Molly I would take care of the boggart."
"The boggart?" Sirius gaped at Remus, and Remus couldn't believe he was still thinking about how handsome Sirius was.
"Whoever was here is long gone,” Remus said, more firmly this time. “And I did promise."
Remus went back indoors, bringing up the lights with a flick of his wand. He stopped just inside the threshold and looked back to Sirius and the boys, who were looking up at Sirius, clearly wanting to follow Remus. Finally Sirius allowed it, huffing out a breath before he led the boys through the doorway. Sirius, his wand still held tight in his hand, moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with Remus in front of the old grandfather clock.
"Don't be alarmed, boys," Remus said after a few moments of silence, and the clock gave a heave in response. "It's best to approach these things with a group, if you can. Do you remember why, Ron?"
Ron looked up, stunned to have been asked the question, and then straightened up, clearing his throat. "Because it'll get confused?"
"Exactly. When I open the casing, there will be a moment when the boggart won't know who to land on when it sees all four of us here."
"It takes the shape of your worst fear, doesn't it, professor?"
"Exactly, Harry, but don't worry. I'll step forward and it'll settle on me quick enough. Now, on the count of three. One. Two. Three!"
Remus opened the casing with a flick of his wand and the boggart spun confusedly before Remus stepped forward as he had promised. He raised his wand, the Riddikulus spell on his lips as he prepared to envision the sight he expected to see--the moon transformed into a balloon that would quickly lose its air. He had performed this bit of magic dozens of times and he raised his wand almost lazily, conscious of Sirius by his side and the boys watching him. The boggart spun and stopped, building into the form of a man, and Remus' hand began to shake as he recognized the face in front of him. Rabastan Lestrange.
Remus hesitated. The face before him was handsome, with bright blue eyes and full lips curled into something that hinted the cruel sneer they so often formed, just as they had often done in life. Remus was transported back to the night he had been captured, just before the turn of the war, and tortured by Rabastan and his brother, Rodolphus. He'd not been to an Order of Phoenix meeting, no, but he had worked for their cause nonetheless. He'd barely survived, his knee shattered along with his nerves, and the cane he'd carried ever since clattered to the floor as he fought to remember the word of the spell--its tone and inflection, to find some way to make Rabastan ridiculous.
In the end, Sirius stepped in front of him and the image of Rabastan swirled and faded, spinning into something that Remus couldn't make out--a dark haired phantom, its mouth stretched wide as if to swallow them all whole. It never gained clearer shape before Sirius spoke the spell in a clear, strong voice. The sound of it shook Remus from his trance and he shook his head violently, raising his wand again. Together, they wrestled the boggart into the box Molly had told Remus he should use and trapped it there. For a long moment, they were all silent, staring at the crate.
"I'm sorry about that," Remus whispered and then cleared his throat. He looked at Sirius and then away, embarrassed. "It usually takes another form. I wasn't expecting that."
"Was that Rabastan Lestrange?"
"Unfortunately."
"He's dead."
"Of that I'm quite sure." Remus put his wand away and pushed his shaking hand through his hair. He'd killed Rabastan himself just outside a small village some years ago. Even after all that had happened, he hadn't meant to hurt Rabastan--hadn't gone there to commit that particular bit of violence, and he prided himself on having done it out of protection, not revenge. Remus found that he wanted to explain this to Sirius, to make him understand, but stopped as he caught the look on Harry's ever curious face as he stood clutching Remus' cane.
"The picture reminded me of things best forgotten," Remus said as he took back the cane, grateful for the moment to have it to lean on. He looked down at his knuckles white on the handle before he shook himself and forced a smile to his lips, even if it was a bit grim.
"Chocolate," he said into the silence, and pulled from the depth of some hidden pocket a chunk of Honeydukes, which he broke off, giving a piece first to Ron and Harry each before breaking another chunk in half and handing a share to Sirius before taking a bite himself. "Go on, boys. It'll help."
It took some minutes after to usher the boys back outside. They seemed to have finally found their voices again, the chocolate working its own magic to soothe and calm. Sirius had lifted the crate with the boggart and secured it outside and away from the house, and went to work once more at Remus' side to restore and reinforce the wards on the Burrow. This time Remus didn't let himself think of Sirius other than to admire the way the man handled the complicated spells, building and weaving their magic to prevent whoever had broken through from getting back in again. When they were finished, Remus forced himself to look after the boys, promising himself that when he was home--when he was alone in his cottage--then he could think of what had happened. Not before, and certainly not in front of anyone--not in front of Sirius. He had suffered enough, he'd decided, granting himself that at least.
"That was one of the bad men," Harry said as they walked back down the lane. He and Ron had been whispering to one another in that way little boys have, no longer afraid at all. It startled Remus that Harry might know who the Lestrange brothers had been. "Wasn't it, professor? One of those who fought for Him."
"Voldemort, Harry," Remus said, ignoring Sirius' look of surprise, though he must know that James had always taught Harry to say the name. Remus supposed it was still rare to find anyone outside the Order willing to say it as well.
"Yes, but it was, wasn't it?"
"It was just a boggart, though, remember Harry; you, too, Ron," Remus said, wondering for a moment if maybe he was saying it more for himself. "What you saw wasn't real."
"But that was what you're most afraid of, that man."
"Not usually, Harry. The boggart usually takes a very different form, but tonight, yes. I was reminded of a very dark time and should have probably heeded your godfather's words but--"
For a minute, Remus didn't go on, just leaned heavily on his cane while the children and Sirius watched him. He felt pale--faded and vulnerable in the moonlight, his eyes dark and distant. Harry reached out to put his hand into Remus' and Remus smiled sadly at Harry, grateful for that bit of comfort. "C'mon, boys. I'll take you home and then come back for the boggart. I know a small, abandoned cottage where he'll be quite happy."
"Can boggarts be happy?" Ron asked.
"Well, not as happy as when they're terrorizing someone, but they do like small, dark places, so maybe it'll be a good home."
"Maybe we should leave it for the morning," Sirius said, the first he's spoken since they were inside the house. "I'm sure Molly will feel safer if she and the children stay at Godric's Hollow tonight."
"You're right, of course, Sirius." Remus forced himself to meet Sirius' eyes, expecting to find pity--he was used to that--and certainly none of the burning intensity that would catch him so by surprise each time it happened. What he found instead was open curiosity, and that, he thought, was more disconcerting than nearly anything else that had happened that night. Remus felt himself blush under the intensity of Sirius' gaze and looked away, down at his feet and then to Harry. "Are you ready to go?" He asked, once more forcing a smile, and Harry nodded.
They apparated back and Remus was glad--relieved--when Sirius sent the boys inside the house, warning them to keep quiet--that he would explain things to their mums--before they ran off. Remus turned to go as well, feeling that perhaps he should go and speak with James, Lily, and Molly himself but willing to misunderstand Sirius' intention. He felt a bit desperate to be alone for a bit, to be on his own in case he did something inane like cry. He'd had enough of embarrassing himself in front of Sirius. He only made it a few steps down the path toward his cottage before Sirius spoke, stopping him.
"Are you all right?" Sirius asked.
"Fine. I'm fine." Remus opened and closed his mouth. He was anything but, though he couldn't begin to find the words to explain that to Sirius. "I would have never taken the boys had I known that would happen."
"I know."
"I suppose I should go inside and talk to--"
"No, I will. You look spent."
"I'm fine," Remus said again. "Just--"
"Remus, during the war--" Sirius spoke in a rush, taking a step toward Remus, his hand outstretched before he stopped, widened his stance and put his hands on his hips. He looked uncharacteristically hesitant, and Remus drank up the sight, once again reminded of the boy Sirius had once been--brash and bold yet curiously awkward when he thought no one was watching. Remus was always watching, even now.
"It's complicated," Remus said, forestalling a conversation that he still wasn't sure he should be having even after all these years. He felt he had already said too much, already given too much away. "I'll speak with Professor Dumbledore tomorrow. About the picture."
"Of course." Sirius stared at him for another moment, his eyes soft, the concern evident, and that, too, was unexpected. "You must be tired. Go on. I'll explain things here."
"Thank you. I'm glad--I'm glad you were there tonight. Good night, Sirius."
"Good night."
Remus walked slowly down the path toward his cottage, leaning more heavily on his cane than he normally did. When he looked back, just as the path curved deeper into the woods, he found that Sirius was still watching him. He raised his hand impulsively before catching himself, and was more than surprised when Sirius waved back.
part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4