Getting Even, by Goldennotblonde
Rated R for language and violence. Remus/Sirius ship, but no sex, drama/angst. Alternate Universe fic set in PoA. Divergence begins when Remus has an unwelcome visitor on Halloween night.
This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Remus shut the door to his chambers and slid the bolt home, resting his forehead against the ancient wood in the dark. The castle had been searched from the top of the astronomy tower to the lowest of Snape's dungeons, but Sirius was long gone. They'd all trained together; Sirius, James and Remus, because Moody had said to teach one marauder was to teach another, and damn Ministry regulations to hell. Remus had been barred from becoming an auror, but he'd worked for the Order before that fateful Halloween and Voldemort's fall. Sirius had been an auror, and he felt that if the man didn't want to be found, he wouldn't.
Thirteen years ago to the day. Sirius would pick tonight of all nights to attack.
He sighed and pushed away from the door, fighting down the impulsive rage brought on by the full moon's proximity. Shrugging out of his worn robe, he draped it over the nearest chair, too tired to worry about being tidy. Working at the buttons of his shirt, he felt one come loose under his fingers and drop to the floor, ticking softly against the stone as it rolled away.
Cursing, he drew his wand and set the logs in the hearth ablaze, intending to use their light to find the candles and his errant button. Instead he froze at the sight which greeted him.
The fire crackled fiercely, throwing the figure seated in front of it into harsh relief. Sirius stared at him from one of the big wing chairs with bright eyes sunken deep in their sockets, wide and wary. His fingers gripped the upholstered arms, knuckles white under the dirt as Remus slowly leveled his wand at his chest. A suddenly shouted curse brought ropes twisting around the chair and its occupant, forcing his bare feet apart and lacing them to the ornately carved wood.
A snarl curled the werewolf's upper lip as he advanced on his former lover.
"You really are mad, aren't you, you bastard?"
Sirius scowled.
"Maybe."
Fury welled up inside Remus and his foot shot out on a sharp pivot into the man's crotch. Sirius gasped and turned white, his breath coming in short, high-pitched pants as the ropes held him upright. His head lolled back and he wheezed for air, only dimly registering Remus' next words.
"You've got some nerve coming in here, Padfoot," he spat. Sirius' eyes clouded with more than physical pain upon hearing the old nickname used.
"Moony, no…" he moaned.
Remus slapped him, his hand connecting with a CRACK that split the air between them. Angry red streaks appeared in its place, flooding paled skin and standing out in livid contrast to the rest.
"How dare you?" he growled, adrenaline and rage singing in his blood. Sirius glared at him, blood dripping from a cut on his lip.
"Peter…" he croaked. Remus raised an eyebrow, regarding him with disgust. Sirius shook his head. "He's in Gryffindor tower, with Ron Weasley." Remus' mouth twisted, the adrenaline slowly draining away to be replaced with grief. So this is what had become of them. Azkaban had addled Sirius' wits beyond belief.
"Sirius," he said patiently, as though to a slow child. "You killed Peter."
"No…" Sirius wheezed. "I didn't. He got away."
Remus snorted and collapsed in the chair opposite. "Right. Tell me another."
Sirius looked at him, his expression pained and desperate. "Rat, Remus. The boy thinks he's his pet rat."
Remus considered him coldly, seething inside.
"Remus…" It was almost a whine. "Harry's in danger. Peter could kill him. Dammit, Remus, he's in the same dorm!" he said angrily. Wincing, he shifted, and worked his hand down under the ropes to a scrap of parchment laid beside him on the chair which Remus had not seen. He tugged it out; his movements hampered, and twitched it in Remus' direction, his eyes pleading. Reluctantly, Remus leaned forward to take it, only then noticing the crude knife resting at Sirius' feet. He cursed himself for his inattention and kicked it away. It skittered across the stone, clattering loudly in the stillness. He narrowed his eyes and plucked the parchment from the animagus' fingers, keeping his wand handy.
It turned out to be a newspaper clipping about the Weasleys. He scanned the text briefly before examining the picture and what he saw made his blood run cold. Faster than he would have liked, everything clicked into place in his head with horrifying precision.
"Merlin," he breathed, glancing up to stare at Sirius, who was watching him with an unreadable expression. "You…"
"I wasn't the secret keeper, Moony. We switched." He looked away. "I didn't know." Remus sat back, appalled and dismayed. His eyes found the knife where it lay in a corner of the room and he berated himself for his density. The weapon on the floor had been a peace offering, and he hadn't even seen it. Sirius followed the line of his gaze and shook his head.
"I could have easily killed you had I wanted too, Remus," he chided. His mouth quirked and he shifted painfully, glancing down at his lap. "I'm not sure I don't."
Remus groaned, dropping the clipping. It fluttered to the floor and he put his head in his hands. Sirius sighed.
"We're even, I suppose, Moony." Remus gave him a questioning look and he grimaced. "I thought you were the spy, and I really am at fault for their deaths. If I hadn't been so stupid…" he trailed off and closed his eyes.
They sat in silence for a minute, then Remus stood unsteadily, grasping the arms of his chair as he did so. He stepped forward to take Sirius' battered face in his palms, feeling him flinch under his touch. His thumbs rasped gently over rough-cut beard while he waited for the tension to drain from the other man. Sirius met his gaze with wide eyes, searching his face for something. He must have found it, for the fear that flowed away from him was almost tangible as it left. His breath came out through his nose as though he'd been holding it and his eyelids fluttered shut. Remus continued to stroke his face gently and bent down to kiss first one grimed eyelid, then the other, his lips on the delicate skin feather-light. Sirius opened his eyes slowly when Remus pulled back, and the werewolf was startled to see they were bright with unshed tears.
"Remus…" His voice was choked. Remus gave him a quavering smile and slid one hand back to stroke the matted hair while the other cupped his chin and tilted it up.
"Shh, it's all right," he whispered, and softly covered Sirius' lips with his own, allowing his tears to fall freely to mingle with the other man's. Sirius' breath was stale and his teeth rotting, but it was Sirius, and he couldn't have cared less. His tongue probed forward and Sirius sobbed into his mouth, then cried out, the sound muffled in the kiss. Remus withdrew in confusion, leaving Sirius gasping.
"Sirius, what's wrong?" But Sirius said nothing, instead trying to curl in on himself and forcing his breathing to slow. "Oh." He felt himself flush with acute embarrassment and dropped his hands, stepping back. "Padfoot, I'm sorry…"
Despite the pain, Sirius began to laugh, great, sobbing, giggling laughs that wracked his thin frame and strained against the ropes.
"Padfoot?" he asked in dismay. I've been played for a fool. He squashed the thought instantly, refusing to acknowledge it. Sirius only shook his head, still shaking. Remus gaped at him for a moment, puzzled. Then a similar image came to his mind, an old one from long ago which he'd only ever actually seen in that photograph of Skeeter's and never for himself in person. Suddenly he understood why Sirius had laughed in that destroyed street when his colleagues had come for him.
"Merlin, Padfoot," he breathed, moving to stroke Sirius' head soothingly. Sirius gradually calmed under his hand and looked up at Remus tiredly; tear tracks smudged over the mark of the werewolf's blow to his face.
"I think I would have done the same, Moony," he admitted.
"Forgive me?" Remus asked, his fingers wandering over snarled knots. Sirius smiled.
"In time," he replied, his eyes dancing in the firelight. An instant later they turned solemn and a little frantic as he appeared to remember something.
"Moony," he whispered urgently, "get Peter away from Harry, please."
Remus bent and kissed his forehead before turning to take down a small jar from the mantle. Crouching on the hearth, he removed a pinch of the powder and threw it on the fire.
"Albus Dumbledore!" he said clearly. In a moment the headmaster appeared, looking concerned.
"Remus? What is it, my boy?"
Merlin, the man was still awake.
"Albus, I found Sirius," he said.
"Oh, Remus…" the headmaster's face creased in worry, suddenly looking ancient in the fire's glow. Remus swallowed.
"Could you come, please?"
"Yes, yes, I'll be right there," he replied.
finis