Chapter Text
It was raining again. Remus could hear the soft tappings on the window his face was pressed against. It seemed as though there was no end to this dreadful weather. It was fitting, in a way, the rain. It was as if mother nature herself was in mourning. Though, it would have been more fitting if time had stood still or the Earth had stopped rotating on its axis, because Remus wasn’t sure how life could just keep on. After everything that had happened, how was he supposed to go on?
A week had passed since Halloween night... or maybe it wasn’t quite yet a week. Maybe it had only been a few days. He was having trouble keeping track of time. It had all become a blur, with one day bleeding into the next. He remembered it had been Thursday when he had met with Dumbledore, which had proven to be a complete waste of time.
It was after the funeral service had ended. Remus had shown up at Dumbledore’s office, asking after Harry, hoping he would be allowed to come home with him. Upon hearing Harry would continue living with his aunt and uncle, Remus’s first thought had been that the old man had finally gone senile. Surely he remembered James's and Lily's wedding: Petunia calling Lily a freak and storming off, her oaf of a husband spitting a few insults of his own before trudging after her. But when he had pointed that out, Dumbledore only insisted the Dursleys' home was the safest place for Harry — something about Lily’s blood and old magic.
Remus, frankly, didn’t give two shits about Dumbledore’s reasoning. It didn’t change the fact that Petunia was a horrid, insufferable woman who had no business in raising a child, let alone Harry. No amounts of “my dear boy” would convince Remus otherwise. He had angrily paced around the old fool’s office, begging him to listen. They would never love Harry, he had tried explaining. Their house would never be a home, he had yelled. They wouldn’t read Bappity Rabbity or sing silly songs just to hear that sweet little laugh or know that sometimes all Harry wanted was the stuffed black dog that Siri–
Remus shoved the thought away. His throat felt suddenly tight.
Don't go there. Don't think about him. Think of anything else. Just not him. Never him.
Focusing on his breathing, Remus traced a droplet of rain down to the sill. A flash of lightning lit up the sky. One, two, three, four seconds passed and thunder rumbled in the distance.
Merlin, he wanted to scream.
In fact, he had screamed once he'd realized there was no changing Dumbledore’s mind. He had also thrown several choice words at him and slammed the door on his way out for good measure. That had been two days ago. It had been six days since he had returned home from his mission.
***
It'd been a fruitless endeavor as most of his missions were. He’d been attempting to recruit a pack of werewolves up North and had spent nearly a month away. He'd recovered just enough from an injury sustained during the last full moon and was finally able to journey home. Beyond exhausted, Remus wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower and fall into bed. Thinking of Lupin Cottage, he apparated home, just outside the protective barrier. He felt the wards shudder as he stepped through. Suddenly, he heard the sound of running feet, and then his father's arms were on him, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.
“Thank Merlin you’re alright," Lyall sighed in relief, cupping the back of Remus’s head. "Your mother and I have been worried sick."
Remus pulled away from Lyall's embrace. His parents always worried over him (his mother especially), but this was a bit much. It had only been a few weeks; he'd been gone that long before. He looked at his dad, clearly, for the first time that morning. Lyall looked as if he hadn't slept. His hair was mussed, his clothes were disheveled.
“Honestly, Dad, you didn't need to worry. I told you I'd be gone longer this time," Remus said.
Lyall grabbed his arm as he started towards the house. “Remus."
Remus’s stomach dropped. He turned.
“Dad?"
For a moment, Lyall didn't speak, which worried Remus. Then, quietly: "Something's happened, son."
Remus's heart began to pound. "What is it? What's happened?”
"Remus," Lyall said again, strained.
"Dad, you’re scaring me. What's happened?"
Running a hand through his hair, Lyall looked towards home then back to his son. “Why don't you come with me inside? Your mother and I... we can explain–”
“Dad," Remus pleaded, "tell me.”
So Lyall did.
Remus couldn't believe it. James and Lily couldn't be gone. How could James and Lily be gone? It wasn't possible. Surely there'd been a mistake. Voldemort couldn't have found them. They were protected. The Fidelius Charm — A sudden horror struck him.
“Sirius?” Remus choked out.
"Son–“
“He’s dead, isn’t he?” Hot tears ran down Remus's face as he spoke. “They - they killed him?”
Lyall closed his eyes and sighed.
His father's words barely registered. Not even in Remus's worst nightmares had he imagined the spy being one of them. His felt sick. He couldn’t breathe.
“It's a mistake, right?” His voice cracked on the words. "It has to be. Sirius would never... he couldn't–"
"Albus was here earlier. He says they have muggle witnesses who heard what went down between Peter and Sirius. The Ministry believes he was trying to make a run for it when Peter confronted him. They – I'm sorry, Remus. They've taken him to Azkaban.”
A sob tore through Remus, his legs giving beneath him. He fell into his father's arm, buried his face into his shoulder and cried.
***
Seven days. It had been seven days since Halloween night, and he hadn't been here. Maybe if he had he could have done something. Maybe Peter would have come to him first. Maybe he could have stopped Peter from going after him. Maybe he could have confronted him instead and... and – He wasn't sure what he would've done. Could he have faced him like Peter had? Could he have killed him for betraying their friends? He'd asked himself this question many times since hearing the news and his answer was still the same. He didn't know if he could. He hated himself for that.
“Sweetheart, I've been thinking. Is it - I mean, don't you think it's possible they might have it wrong? Maybe there’s been a mistake.”
Remus looked up from where he was sitting to find his mother, Hope, staring at him. She was sitting on the sofa, her feet tucked underneath her. Since hearing the news, she had taken to sitting with Remus, and while he appreciated the gesture, he really just wanted to be left alone.
“It’s happened before. People have been imprisoned only to be found innocent years later,” she continued. “Maybe the Ministry made a mistake.” She paused and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I have a hard time believing the same boy who liked to help me in my flower patch could do something like that. I mean, for god’s sake, he was just here for Christmas. He helped with the roast and he was so kind to–"
But Remus wasn't listening anymore, too caught up in memories. Last Christmas... God, it felt like a lifetime ago. So much had happened since then. So much loss and pain. So much destruction. To think he had believed him. He really, truly had believed they’d make it out of the war simply because he had promised they would. Was he lying? Had he already known then he would betray them all? Had Remus been so hopelessly blinded by love that he hadn’t noticed the moment he'd gone over to the other side?
He looked out the window, blinking back tears. It felt wrong crying over him. He was the reason Lily and James were dead. It was because of him Harry was now an orphan. He had slaughtered Peter and all those helpless muggles in the middle of the street and had just sat there and laughed. Remus wiped at his face and watched the droplets of rain run down the window pane.
"Something about this just doesn’t sit right with me."
His right temple pulsed, threatening a headache. He massaged the spot and held his tongue. He couldn’t blame his mum for holding out hope. He hadn’t wanted to believe it either. A few days earlier, he'd been in Moody's office pleading and demanding to know if he was sure. He could see it now, the pity on Mad-Eye's face as he assured him they had the right man. "Go home, lad,” he'd told him afterwards. "Go home and be with your family."
And after going home and drinking an entire bottle of Ogden’s, he began combing over moments from the past year —Peter’s suspicions, Sirius’s accusations, their fights — the pieces started to fall into place. Which was why he couldn’t have this conversation again. He could not allow himself to entertain the idea that Sirius wasn’t responsible because that led to hope, and hope could be a very dangerous thing. He wished his mum would accept they had all been fooled and move on.
“Maybe you should go talk to that officer again. There might be something they missed or–“
“Mum, no. It’s not a mistake."
Hope frowned. “I can’t imagine him doing something so horrible. He never seemed the type to do anything so cruel.”
Up to this point, Remus had been trying his utmost best to tamp down his emotions, but his irritation got the better of him. "Really? Have you forgotten my fifth year? Because I haven’t!”
Hope’s gaze fell to her lap, her mouth pressed into a thin line. Remus could tell she was trying hard not to cry. He felt ashamed. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t understand. Both he and his father had tried shielding her from the horrid details of the war. She hadn’t known how bad it had got, not until the end.
Remus pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I’m sorry, Mum. I didn't mean to snap.”
"I know.”
Remus looked over and caught her small, sad flash of a smile. He pursed his lips, gave a short nod. Neither of them said more. A tense silence fell over the room, broken only by the occasional clap of thunder and the steady pattering of rain. It was suffocating.
"We're, er, we're starting to run low on firewood," Remus said after a while. It was the first excuse that came to his mind. “I’ll go out and collect us some more." He stood up from his spot.
Hope frowned and looked towards the window. The rain was coming down in sheets. "Oh, Remus, there’s no need to–"
“Thanks, son. I’d really appreciate that,” Lyall said kindly as he made his way into the room. Putting a hand on his son’s shoulder, he gave a short squeeze, then joined his wife on the sofa.
Hope pursed her lips together, shooting Lyall a look. “Okay, dear,” she said a moment later. “But grab a coat before you go.”
Remus nodded and left for the kitchen. His coat lay over a chair. He grabbed it and stepped into a pair of wellies by the back door.
“Hope, you can’t keep doing this. It’s killing him,” Remus heard his father say wearily. His hand paused on the door knob.
“But don’t you think–“
“Love, it wasn't a mistake. You heard what Dumbledore said.”
Hope huffed irritably. “That man. If I have to hear his name again–"
“Hope,” said Lyall softly.
“He sent our son to war, Lyall! You saw what it did to him. Always coming home covered in bruises, completely exhausted... never knowing where he was... or-or when he'd be back.."
“I know. I know... I hated it too. But Remus - Hope, he wanted to fight. We couldn't have stopped him."
Hope sniffed and Remus realized she was crying. “They were children... and Sirius – it doesn’t make any sense.”
There was a brief pause. Remus’s hand twisted on the knob, yet he remained fixed to his spot.
“I can't seem to make sense of it either,” Lyall sighed. “You know, Remus told me Peter came to him. It seems he was starting to suspect Sirius.”
Another pause. Remus imagined the shock on his mum's face.
“Mhm, I couldn’t believe it either,” he heard his dad say. “It was a few months back. Before Remus came home to stay. Said he was worried about Sirius, thought he seemed off. And from what Dumbledore told me–“
Remus slipped quietly out the backdoor, not wanting to hear the rest. His insides clenched with guilt. He sat down on the back steps with his head in his hands. Hot tears began to fill his eyes, threatening to spill over. He chocked back a sob.
He hadn’t believed Peter. Truth was, he had thought he was being paranoid. Exhaustion and fear would do that to a person. This past year had made them all grow a bit paranoid (some more than others), or at least that was what he had thought at the time.
Peter's worries weren't unfounded. Sirius had been acting odd the last few months leading up to Halloween. One might even say his behavior bordered on being erratic. But Remus had assumed the war was wearing on him as it was wearing on them all.
He remembered the night when all the tension that had been building between them had finally come to a head. They had been in the middle of another screaming match. It seemed as if they had had this same fight a thousand times. Sirius had begged Remus to say where he was going on his mission and Remus refused.
Something inside Sirius seemed to break as Remus headed towards the front door. He could still see the look Sirius had given him, tears streaming down his face, his hair mussed from running his hand through it as they fought, his stormy grey eyes searching his.
“Please."
“I can't!"
"Why not? James tells Lily where he's going."
"That's different. James is out doing routine patrols. You know we aren't supposed to talk about our missions. Dumbledore said–"
"Oh fuck what Dumbledore said! Of all people, you should at least be able to tell me! I never know where you are or when you'll be back! You could be lying in a gutter for all I know!"
"If I told you and the wrong person found out–"
"The wrong person?" Sirius repeated incredulously. "What are you saying? That I'd let slip what you're doing?"
It wouldn’t be the first time you let something slip, Remus thought but refrained from saying. It would be needlessly cruel, and it wasn't how he wanted to leave things. Instead, he stole a glance at his watch. He needed to leave soon if he was going to make the portkey. He sighed. "Sirius, I really have to be going."
"Is there someone else?"
"... Excuse me?"
“Are you seeing someone else?" Sirius demanded. "Because I don't know what else to think. I feel like I'm going mad here. There's something you're not telling me and it's not just where you go on these missions. You're hiding something. I know you are." He sniffed and let out a shuddery breath. "Do you not love me anymore? Is that it? Found someone better to spend your time with?"
"Really? Is that what you think? You really think I'm cheating on you? That I'd have the time to–"
"I don't know what to think, Remus! You've been distant for months. Not just with me but with everyone! You know what Dumbledore said about the Order. For you to still refuse to tell me anything, what am I supposed to think?"
Remus heart stilled. It was as if he'd been slapped, which he would've preferred for it wouldn't have stung as badly. He knew what Sirius was insinuating. He didn't need it spelled out. And yet, he prompted, "What are you trying to say, Sirius?"
Sirius stared at him for a moment; all the fight seemed to drain out of him. Eyes wet and pleading, he chocked out, "Please. Please, tell me it's not you.”
Remus hadn’t denied it. He’d been too stunned to say more than a few clipped words before turning heel and walking out of their flat. He didn't return once the mission was over. Instead, he had found himself apparating to his parents' cottage in Wales.
And yet, he never suspected Sirius. Not once. Not even after he had practically accused him of being the spy. They were in the middle of a fucking war. Order members were being picked off left and right. They were all terrified of being next. It was bound to happen, fingers being pointed. So even though it hurt hearing it, Remus had understood. He was the obvious choice after all.
Remus shook his head in his hands. That was his problem. He’d been too trusting — a stupid mistake to make in war.
He looked up from his hands as a bolt of lightning flashed through the sky. Tears fell freely down his face, mixing with the rain.
It’d been seven days since Halloween night. He still wasn’t able pinpoint the moment where it all went wrong. He wasn’t sure if he ever would.
***
The door to his office opened. Remus drew his eyes up from the paper he was marking to see Severus making his way along the rows of desks.
“Ah, Severus. You know, it really isn’t necessary for you to bring me my potion each month. It’s no trouble for me to come to your office.”
Severus regarded him with a cold stare. “Not all of us have the luxury of lazing about our offices, Lupin” he said, placing the steaming goblet on Remus’s desk. “I can't waste hours waiting for you to show."
Remus bit back a retort, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “Well, thank you. I do appreciate it.”
Severus stared at him plainly. “Do be sure to drink that soon,” he said, giving a curt nod toward the potion. And without another word, he turned heel and stalked out of Remus’s office, his black robes swishing behind him.
Remus rolled his eyes with a sigh and returned his attention to his marking. Once finished with the essay he was on, he stole a quick glance at the map. He’d been keeping an eye on Harry and his friends. Hagrid’s hippogriff was to be executed tonight, and he assumed, rightly so, they might break curfew to visit him before it happened. Last he'd checked, their names had been on Hagrid’s hut.
He scanned the grounds for their names and was in the motion of reaching for the goblet when he found them just up the hill near Hagrid's. His hand stilled and his heart stuttered to a halt before slamming against his chest. Their three dots were now a group of four.
There on the map, penned in Remus’s own neat handwriting, was the name of a person he had longed believed to be dead: Peter Pettigrew.
Remus's hand went to his mouth as he wracked his brain for a plausible explanation. “It’s a mistake,” he thought aloud, his fingers pressed just above his lip. He brought them to the map and rubbed at the spot as if that would scrub the name from sight.
It wasn’t possible. Peter had died almost thirteen years ago. Remus had gone to the funeral; he'd comforted Peter's mother. The bloody Ministry had awarded Peter the Order of Merlin posthumously. This was not possible. The map had to be wrong.
Remus shook his head. No. No, the map couldn’t be wrong. They had spent so many painstaking hours perfecting it, working out all its errors. The map was fool-proof. They had made sure of it, which meant Peter was here.
He looked down once more just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. The map now showed another dot heading towards the four.
Remus was suddenly reminded of his mother’s words from years ago: Maybe there’s been a mistake.
He quickly brushed the thought aside and watched Sirius collide with the group, splitting it in two. Sirius, Peter and Ron headed towards the Whomping Willow, while Harry and Hermione followed behind.
Remus sat there stunned. What was going on? He didn’t take a second more to dwell on the answer. He grabbed his wand and ran out of his office, heading towards the shack. The map and goblet lay forgotten on his desk.