Chapter Text
Okay so, the rule forbidding going into the forbidden forest was put there for a reason. But they were sixth years, the Big fish of the pond, and more so, they were the Marauders! Rules were for lesser folk. Then Peter disappeared. The remaining three stood warily around where he had been just 2 minutes prior. The ground looked normal, dirt, covered in leaves.
"Do you think he'll pop out somewhere random? Or just come back up at this point?" Asked Sirius.
"That's optimistically suggesting he will come back" replied Remus.
"Oh he will don't worry Moony, he's fine, I've got a hunch for these things" James "hunch" also thought that Sirius was secretly dating Mary so Remus wasn't exactly comforted by this statement. But he still admired his self-belief and optimism, if it was misplaced.
THWUNK
James mis-stepped ever so slightly too close to whatever it was, and he disappeared.
"Now that's two of them, we've never had such a high rate of attrition before" Remus thought Sirius was surprisingly calm about the whole thing, but then again he himself wasn't exactly feeling very headless chicken yet. Sirius purposely stepped forward.
THWUNK
He was gone. This is a bad idea Remus thought, then he stepped forward.
He found himself on a floor, in a house. It was a wooden floor, that was clearly being eaten away by termites, Remus quickly stood up. There was a window, it was day time. A desk, with a radio on it playing a song he'd never heard, a walking stick that leaned against a bed, and a man on the bed. The man on the bed that was the important part.
"Jesus Christ" muttered the man. Remus didn't like the look of him. He was sitting down but clearly very tall, he wore a faded sweatshirt that was more hole than wool and worn corduroy trousers. He had no shoes on but his socks were eaten through by moths. His face and hands were scarred all over by silver jagged lines, his hair was more grey than blonde. But his eyes, well, the mans eyes look exactly like his.
***
Febuary 17th, 2011
Remus looked at the Boy in front of him, no matter how much he didn't want to. Too tall, too thin. A jagged scar and a worried mouth that spoke too quietly and smoked too much. He knew that boy anywhere. He saw him every day for years.
"I'm sorry for intruding I didn't mean to, I think I'm quite lost" the Boys voice wobbled. Yes he must be quite lost to appear here of all places Remus made a point of staying away from other people, for their safety, and his sanity.
"Yes," Remus replied, "You are" he wandered if the boy recognised him.
"First time apparating I suppose?" He said with slight sarcasm in his voice, of course it wasn't, no one could apparate through time.
"Um, not really, say, have you seen anyone else, appear, like I did I mean" oh dear, Remus thought, they've all gone and done it, he wandered who did it first, probably Sirius or James, and then the other would obviously go running after- he stopped the thought. That was too painful.
"No, I'll be honest young men don't really apparate into my room unannounced very often"
"Ah. Yes."
"But I suppose I could help you look, point you in the right direction"
"Yes, right direction, I need that" the Boy looked puzzled. "How would you know the right direction to look for them?"
Remus smiled coyly "I don't, haven’t you been listening?" The Boy looked forlorn, and confused. Remus supposed he shouldn't be so mean. But he was. He was bitter. They filled his mouth with salt then got mad when he spat it back at them. Why did he care.
"I would prefer if you left my bedroom, rather personal in here" it wasn't personal. Remus didn't own much, only what could be carried in a rucksack, and what he trusted wasn't valuable enough to be stolen while he slept on the streets and on sofas. The cottage had been a blessing, but one that came too late.
"Yeah sorry I'll er" he started towards the door. Remus got up and followed, wandering if he should start actively figuring out what was going on or just keep watching it unfold. The answer was waiting at the bottom of the stairs.
"Holy fuck Moony it’s you, thank god you any idea how to get back" Remus flinched at the voice. At the nickname it so easily used. He needed them out of his house He wanted them gone.
"Wormtail! Jesus Christ you’re okay, Everyone's gone and fallen down it, where the hell are we? You see the others?" The Boy ran downstairs into the outstretched arms of his friend. Peter Pettigrew. Short, stocky, sandy hair, round face, friendly smile and warm brown eyes. Remus felt sick. He wandered if Peter had already started looking at the other side. Did he now look at the Boy with secret disgust. Should he kill him now? End years of suffering and betrayal. It would be so easy. He had never used the killing curse, but he knew you needed to really want to kill someone. And Remus did.
A noise from the kitchen startled all three of them. Oh god, Remus thought, he was suddenly weak in the knees. He couldn't see them. He couldn't look at them, not after all these years. The figure ran through the door into the Boys arms. Remus, still at the top of the stairs couldn't see him, and he didn't want to.
"God you guys, Wormy you just disappeared! What the hell happened mate!"
"You're asking me? You lot clearly stepped through willingly you should have a better clue"
"Oh, no Prongs also fell in, like immediately after you it was very embarrassing, we’re all ashamed on his behalf"
"Oh no Moony, it was a purposeful step, I just made it look like I fell so as not to further embarrass Pete"
"Suuurrreeee"
Remus had dropped his wand to instead hold both hands round his mouth. His eyes would not keep back the tears. A noise swelled painfully in his throat that he couldn't get out, they couldn't hear him cry. He never thought he would hear the voice of James Potter again. It brought back awful memories of that final summer evening, right before they went into hiding, the last thing he said to him.
"See you on the other side Moony." There was no other side for James Potter. He died. He died 30 years ago but now he stood in his hallway young and innocent and alive. He had to get them out. What was this. Hell? Had he died in his sleep and was now sentenced to torment by the people he couldn't save? The people he let down?
"Kay, that's 3 out of 4, not bad, where’s Padfoot, can't be far" James said, always looking out for Sirius. No. Remus couldn't breathe. He couldn't see Sirius. He couldn't hear his voice, it was too much.
"Get out of my house." he tried to sound strong. Hold back the cracks that would give him away, but it's hard to sound strong when you are crouched on the stairway with tears streaming down your face. Silence followed. The Boy spoke.
"Uh, yes, we're sorry sir, we'll leave" he heard the whispers of the other two.
"There's someone else here?"
"Maybe he can help us, there's got to be a reason we appeared here"
"Is he a wizard?"
"I don't think he seemed keen on helping us, I think he's a wizard, he mentioned apparating..." the Boy sounded unsure.
"Sir, I'm sorry but we fell down what I can only speculate to be a wormhole or portal or hidden port key, and we've all appeared in your house, do you know how we can get back to Hogwarts" Remus sighed, of course James was the clear headed reasonable one.
"It would be no use going back there" he called down wearily.
"Why not? We’re students there, they'll notice we're missing and look for us if we're gone too long" Remus realised the last part was a threat. James thought Remus might keep them prisoners, kidnap them, sell them to Voldemort. They didn't even know he was called Voldemort yet, except maybe Sirius. Remus collected himself the best he could and walked down the stairs slowly, delaying the inevitable at every opportunity. He stooped to pick up his wand. He readjusted his sock, he fixed a few threads in his sweater. He rounded the corner. James looked exactly as he should’ve, tall, muscular, dark tanned skin with crazy black hair that wouldn't sit flat for any hair product in the world. And very much alive.
"You can't go to Hogwarts, because you are not students anymore." Peter looked confused, eyeing up the scruffy old man that stood between him and the front door. The Boy looked at his shoes, pretending he couldn't see, that he hadn't heard, refusing to understand. James understood immediately.
"So what year is it?"
"February 17th, 2011, just past 2pm"
"And did we win"
"If you ask the papers, yes"
"And if I ask you?" Remus didn't answer.
"We need to find Sirius, he can't be far if you three landed inside the house. Two of you check out back, one of you check out front with me." As he said this he summoned his walking stick which flew out his bedroom, and he put his shoes on. They were second hand trainers, a size too large, but they still somehow rubbed his heel giving him continuous blisters. He could feel two sets of eyes staring at him. And one pair that actively avoided him.
Thankfully it was James who agreed to go with him out front. He didn't know what he would do had it been Peter. Outside it was raining, Remus gave him a spare pakamac, and put on the old coat he'd been wearing for years. For miles there was nothing but green fields divided by drystone walls and bushes, broken up by the occasional trees. Sheep huddled in some of them. The nearest house over was a 40 minute walk, to get into town would take over an hour. Remus hoped they wouldn’t have to go that far, he didn't trust James to apparate yet, he looked so young, but then at Remus' age everyone looked so young. They walked down the lane, looking for a figure to jump out the bushes, or lying in the ditch.
"You never answered my question"
"Because it was a stupid question"
"Remus" he hadn't been prepared for James to use his name. He lowered his eyes and counted his breathes.
"Why do you live here?"
"Away from people, you know that James"
"Why aren't I helping you" Remus felt offended at that question.
"Because I'm not a bloody charity case, I can pay my own god damn way" he lit a cigarette, thankful that the anger hid his grief so well. He didn't offer one to James who had never smoked a day in his life.
"Those things will kill you" Remus laughed at the irony.
"Nah, lots of other stuff ’ll get you before these do." They had walked 20 minutes in the drizzle, all the way to the dried up well, which he doubted even 17 year old Sirius was dumb enough to fall down. He could not be this far away if the other three had all landed inside his cottage. They turned back. Remus felt conflicted, he didn't want to see Sirius. But he was starting to get worried.
"If it’s a time thing maybe there were discrepancies in when we arrived, he might be there now?"
"Maybe" Remus mumbled back, more focused on warming himself up with smoke. James talked the whole way back. He talked about his O.W.L.s and how he got best in year in defence against the dark arts, he talked about his first date with Lily, how she laughed and insisted on paying for the first round of butter beers. He talked about his stag transformation and the adventures Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs had under the light of the full moon. Remus thought he would never stop. It was torture.
"Who died?" The question caught him off guard.
"Don't fucking ask me that"
"Well your here, alone, in the middle of God knows where wearing clothes that were probably bought two decades ago, angry at everyone, angry at me. So just say it. What happened. Where is everyone?" Remus had never felt so angry. He stopped an turned to face him.
"No you listen here, you turned up at my house uninvited, the full moon is one fucking day away, you don't belong here. Not in this decade, not in my house, I want you gone, I don't want you prattling on asking questions that I Promise you don't want to know the answer to." James just looked at him. His face was wet with rain.
"You changed Remus"
"People change James. It’s part of life"
"Not like this. This is wrong"
"Go tell that to the fates, see if they care" He flicked the cigarette down and stomped on it with finality. The conversation was over. He stormed back to the house, fast as his knees would let him. The rain was starting to get heavier, at full downpour by the time they got back. He got inside, ripped off his raincoat, desperate to go make a cup of tea. But he stopped. The kettle was already boiling. The radio had been moved downstairs and was playing in his kitchen. James came in after him, also noticing the sound.
"Hey did you find him" he called.
"Yeah the idiot was over petting the horses" Pete replied. Remus didn't feel ready.
"Hey sorry, they said you were friendly hope you don't mind that we made tea" a voice called. He hoped the owner wouldn't round the corner. The highest voice of the four, the most confident, almost sing song when he was in a good mood, which he appeared to be. Remus could feel the tears prick his eyes again. James walked ahead to the kitchen, then stopped when he realised Remus wasn’t following. He turned and gently beckoned. When Remus still didn't move he walked back, approaching slowly like one might a sacred animal,
"I know it will be hard to see him, but I think he probably wants to see you"
Maybe James hadn't been so oblivious after all.
He slowly opened the kitchen door. The radio played “Don’t hold your breath” a generic love song, or rather end of love song. Peter didn’t look too impressed, the Boy didn’t appear to be listening, but Sirius. Oh god Sirius was dancing round the table. His shirt was drenched from the rain, they obviously hadn’t gotten in too long before he and James. His hair was equally wet and tangled but he didn’t care as he flipped it around, beginning to get a hang of the chorus of the song.
“This is millennium music! I think it’s fun, its sounds so bubbly!” he spun around and saw Remus. Remus looked down and away, refusing to let himself look at that face again. No, he had done his grieving, he had closed the photo albums long ago, he didn’t want to see it again. In his peripheral he saw that the dancing had stopped. The other two clearly hadn’t told him who their host was. Sirius spoke first.
“Remus.” The Boy, or rather, the other Remus, the younger Remus, the Remus that actually belonged to Sirius, shot his head round at the open acknowledgement. That they stood in his kitchen. That this angry, grizzled old man was his future. Remus, the old one, the disappointment, ignored him.
“You going to pour the damn kettle or just waste my electricity” Remus, the young one with potential, began pouring into 5 cups, some of which had clearly been rewashed for this purpose. He sat at the head of the table, and looked down at the wood markings. Refusing to look up. The others sat around him, save for the young Remus who played mother, assembling the milk and sugar and teaspoons. Eventually they all had a cup of tea. Not enough milk, over stewed, and the sugar had ants in it so no one was using it, but a cup of tea all the same. No one spoke up. Until the young Remus did.
“So are you going to tell us”
“Tell you what.” He answered, he let his voice openly show the distain he felt.
“Where are the others. We deserve to know that. You’re a grumpy old git you’ve made your point so why don’t you direct us to someone who will actually help” Remus was looking him in the eye. Was this the Gryffindor bravery the hat foresaw? He thought it was hardly worth it, a pathetic display of bravado for nothing.
"The arrogance of youth. Remus, you know where the others are, deep down. Don't make me say it." He barely whispered the last part.
"I think you should say it" came the shy reply. "I think you need to say it" he licked his lips. "I think I need you to say it"
How do you explain to someone that one day they will be so full of grief they won’t be able to breathe. That the mourning will begin, on a day much like this one, and it will never end. That with every person he lost, he lost a piece of himself and now he was empty, there was nothing left to lose. How do you tell them to swim when you've been drowning for years.
"They're all gone Remus. We're the only one that makes it out the other side." The four sat in silence.
"What about..." James cut himself off. Realising that he didn't want to know. That he probably already knew.
"I shouldn't have told you" he got up throwing his cold tea down the sink and retreating to... he didn't know where. To hide in his bedroom like a teenager. It was the only option. He did so, curling up in the bed, not bothering to put the blanket over him even though he shivered. He felt the pain in his shoulder where he was bitten. It always acted as the moon came. Though his monthly transformation were easier with wolfsbane, the wolf missed its friends. It missed Prongs and even Wormtail. The wolf didn't care about the human Peter. Most of all the wolf missed Padfoot. Even in his right mind curled up on his bed an ancient instinct wanted to howl, to tell his other half where to find him, bring him home. The wolf didn't understand that Padfoot was not coming back. He shivered, then a blanket was gently put over him. He hadn't heard the door open. He felt a familiar weight behind him in the bed. In his mind he begged Sirius not to touch him. Sirius, must have heard his prayer, he kept his hands to himself.
"James said the full moon is tomorrow." Remus grunted into the pillow in affirmation.
"How do you do without..." he trailed off. Not even Sirius was eloquent enough to casually discuss his own death.
"There's a potion now. Wolfsbane. I drink it and I keep my conscious when I transform. I just stay inside."
"Hey that's amazing, do you ever go out and scare people on purpose, start werewolf rumours. You love doing that shit, you skirt so close to the fucking edge I swear it's a miracle more people don't know your-"
"Loved" Remus cut him off
"Huh?"
"I loved doing that shit when I was a stupid teenager who didn't care about my safety and I thought I was invincible because I had a group of friends equally as brain dead as I was." Remus felt himself being mean but couldn't stop. He didn't deserve Sirius Black's affection. He had let him down in every way possible. Once again, Sirius heard his prayer. A thin arm wrapped itself around his chest, grabbing his arm. Sirius held him like that for a few minutes, they just breathed slowly. Remus hated to admit that he bathed in it. They touched only at the hands. Remus’ were big and scarred and calloused. Wrinkles and sunspots dotted them, aging him beyond what he was. Sirius' were so much smaller, thinner, paler. Their fingers naturally intertwined and took turns stroking the other.
"Do you think we would still be together if I were here?" Remus smiled, a question that didn't make him angry.
"I know so."
"Do you think I'd manage to stay as handsome as you did" Remus scoffed at the flattery.
"God Sirius, you were always gorgeous even after-" No. He couldn't say that. Behind him lay Sirius. Who was destined to suffer the fate worse than death. He remembered seeing Sirius for the first time after Azkaban. His hair was so badly knotted, he had been forced to take scissors to it. His beard over grown. His tattoos faded. He had lost so much weight every bone jutted out threatening to break skin. The skin that was grey and purple with exhaustion and malnutrition. He remembered being scared for a second, that a stranger had broken into his flat, a homeless man who realised the lock didn't work right. But then he looked into his eyes. Grey eyes the colour of a perfect storm. He knew his Sirius was home. That night, Remus had washed the scars littering his body that had mirrored his, jagged and angry, while Sirius had sat in the bathtub and smoked with a 1000 yard stare that never really left until his death.
In the three years they had together, if one could call it that, Sirius never managed to speak about Azkaban. It wasn't for the want of trying. He freely came to terms with the abuse he faced at the hands of his parents, the death of his brother, his guilt over James and Lily. But Azkaban, his experience there, it could never quite leave his lips. Unless he slept, then he screamed it, he called out in pain that was only in memories but so strong it transcended time. Sirius therefore, didn't sleep. He spent the three years smoking and drinking and pacing and watching television with that fucking 1000 yard stare, scared to go lay down next to Remus in case he got too comfortable and drifted off. Sirius' death, he had realised many years later, had been a blessing for both of them. It was cruel to make him keep living for his own wants, he had died long ago with James and Lily. It was not Remus' place to demand his corpse dress up and perform for him. That didn't make his absence hurt any less.
He turned slowly. Sirius moved slightly, Remus wished he wouldn't. He was so short, only 5” 6 and skinny. He had stripped the sodden shirt and instead donned one of Remus' t-shirts he had left drying on the radiator. It was too big on him, the neckline drooped past his shoulder revealing the prominent collarbone that Remus' thumb used to trace, and the slight worrying indent of ribs. His hair was long, as long as it ever was, now splayed in silky black tresses across his coffee stained cotton pillows, long enough to easily surpass the collarbone, that it could be styled and tied up, or just let loose and free. That's how Remus liked it, when he could run his fingers through gently before suddenly grabbing him and pulling him into a long hot kiss that said "you’re mine" and Sirius would lean his tiny body up against Remus chest, his arms would slowly snake up round his neck and he would kiss back with such a force that said "no, You’re mine". His face didn't have a single scar or fault, except the slight white line by his eyebrow, the only evidence ever left by Walburga. His cheek bones where high, his mouth rested in a lazy smirk, one black eyebrow was quirked as he watched Remus finally look at him. His eyes were the same. The perfect storm swirled in them.
"Go downstairs Sirius, Remus needs you" it felt odd referring to himself in third person.
"So do you"
"No, I'm not your Remus. And you’re not my Sirius."
"What's the difference?" Remus smiled, a kind smile this time, or at least he tried, if he remembered how to do it.
"Your Remus is still alive. He still has you, my Sirius is dead, and that's unfortunately the way it has to be"
"I'm sorry" tears had begun to well in the corners of his eyes. "I'm sorry I died, I'll do better I won't leave you this time I'll make it right" he whispered.
"No Sirius" Remus couldn't explain it to Sirius. Remus couldn't tell him that his death was not what tore them apart but a decade of torture and isolation. Remus couldn't tell him that he needed to die, for both their sakes.
"That's not how it’s meant to be" Sirius openly cried like a young boy would at such revelations. Remus envied him. He envied the ease of which he sobbed and let tears stream down his perfect face. Sirius couldn't cry after Azkaban. He just screamed or sat in silence. Remus awkwardly put his arm around him. It didn't feel like comfort but Sirius still leaned into it. There was a knock at the door. It was open, James stood awkwardly.
"We need to start figuring out how to get home"
"Yes I suppose you do" Sirius didn't acknowledge James. Remus mouthed "give him a minute" James understood.
When Sirius felt calm enough, he went to splash his face with the cold water in his bathroom. Well, cold water would be all that he was getting either way. When he reappeared, he jumped downstairs as though he had never had a care in the world.
"Mooooony!!" He jumped into Remus' arms. They were in the corridor, James and Peter were behind the closed door in the kitchen. Remus stayed at the top of the stairs and tried to look away from the intimate moment, but it was his intimate moment, or at least, it had once been his. It belonged to another him, a happier him. They parted when the door opened and Peter called out, come on lads, marauder meeting, let's get home. Remus hadn't heard the word marauder used in years. But he still answered the call.
The meeting hadn’t been very productive. No one knew anything other than they had been shot 34 years into the future, all into Remus’ cottage. Except for Sirius who was a little out back near the ponies that belonged to the people down at the stables, but close enough.
“You got any magic woods round here like the forbidden forest”
“They used to say there was a werewolf in the forest over the way but I think that was just folklore.” He smiled, the others sniggered at his joke. It felt wrong. He shouldn’t be joking with them. They weren’t his marauders, and he wasn’t their Remus. Their Remus sat at the other end of the table. Not looking at him, instead staring intently at the meagre portion of rice and chicken that Remus had to whip up on a short notice and freezer for one. He hadn’t looked at him since he told him he was going to be the sole survivor. He wandered if the young Remus would ever forgive him. Well, Remus thought, had he forgiven himself? No. He doubted he ever will.
“You know” spoke Peter between mouthfuls, “Why not check out the forest, there’s clearly no portal in this house, or around, cuz we’ve been running up and down all afternoon. What’s the worst that could happen.” he sprayed rice out in front of him while he talked, which inspired Sirius to flick bits of dry unseasoned chicken at him.
James agreed. ”What we got to lose, lets check out those woods tomorrow, see if we get anything magical.” Remus sighed. James was right it was dark already, the woods were just over an hour away at his pace, which meant he had to spend at least one night with the four boys under his roof. Thankfully, no tears came at this thought. They had all been spent for the day. Instead his throat hurt, and a heavy weight crushed his breastbone.
“I’m going to bed, I suggest you all do the same, you have free range of the living room, blankets are in the laundry cupboard, if you light the fire cast protection spells, I doubt even the 16 year olds amongst you need to worry about the trace right now.” He left them for his own room. He collapsed on his bed, his shoulder aching more than ever now. But it was nothing compared to the crushing of his throat of sobs that refused to come out, and the anvil of grief that sat on his chest. Everything was so heavy. He just wanted to sleep. Maybe if he woke up, they would all be gone. Once again they would disappear into the night, with silvery laughs and mischievous smiles. Forever immortalised as the bright young men they were, instead of being remembered for the potential they were never allowed to achieve. They wouldn’t be his problem anymore.