Chapter One

Remus remembers the last time he saw James Potter. How could he not? It was one of the tensest moments of his life. A moment that if he could go back in time, he'd do over differently in about every way possible. Not just because his guilt ridden mind thinks he could have somehow saved him and Lily from their inevitable fate, but because he knows in that moment James's trust in him wavered. He remembers the look on James's face. Such shock, such disbelief, such fear. But it was a long time coming, Remus knows that now. But at the time, he was so blind.

They had all been gathered in Godric's Hallow, at James and Lily's house. It had been early fall, Remus remembers that. It was just after the harvest moon, the worst night of the year for him and he'd been exhausted.

"How can you say that?" James demanded of Sirius. "We've been making headway. We can't stop now."

Sirius shook his head. "It's over mate. At least, it is for you."

James slammed a fist down on the table. "I won't just stand by while you lot go and fight!"

"Think of your wife and child," Sirius hissed.

"YOU THINK I'M NOT THINKING OF THEM?" James roared. In the other room, Remus could hear Lily's soft voice trying to distract Harry from his father's rage.

Remus looked to Peter, meeting his eyes in silent deliberation. Do they intervene? When James and Sirius squared off like this, there was not much to be done, at least not without fear of being hexed in the process. But this wasn't just some argument over who won at gobstones...

"James," Remus began. "You can't think we don't-"

"Don't you start, Remus," James rounded in disbelief. "What if we told you to quit? What if we packed you away and told you to be a good little wolf?"

A spark of rage flamed to life in his stomach. "I would be bloody glad! You have no idea the world I have to live in! The lies I have to tell. Dumbledore throws me to the wolves, literally, and you talk to me of sacrifice?"

"Sacrifice?" scoffed James. "I've heard the way you talk of it. Living with your kind. You are happier than you've ever been. Don't deny it!"

It was true, loathe as Remus was to admit it. When Dumbledore sent Remus to the underground werewolf community, he'd been terrified at first. He'd met a few other wolves in the past, but none whom he wanted to keep regular company. They were vulgar, wild things, living away from wizarding society. But Remus had gone, without complaint and with his head held high, and what he found was...not what he expected. Yes, his fellow wolves were a rough bunch. Crude, but loyal. Always loyal. He found friends among his new pack that rivaled the friends he stood with now. While James, Sirius and Peter were good men who would do anything for him, they just didn't understand...not the way the pack did.

But there were dangers. He had a mission after all. Voldemort's Death Eaters were recruiting werewolves left and right, and it was up to Remus to keep an ear out to their plans while subtly gaining the trust of his pack enough to have influence over their actions. It was delicate, tricky work. He'd had to witness things that had turned his stomach, watched horrors without being able to intervene. Sometimes he wanted nothing more than to find a place to run and hide from it all. In a way, he did envy James. He'd be hidden, safe. While Remus continued to live this double life. But at the same time… he was the happiest he'd ever been.

He saw the distrust on James's face. What could he say? The man was right.

"I do what I must," Remus said tightly. "As we all do."

"James," said Peter, chiming in for the first time, coming to Remus's aid, as he often did. He was a good friend, Peter. "You must see the reason in all this. If you-know-who wants you dead, what else is there to do but hide?"

James gave Peter a look that would have set him ablaze if he'd been holding a wand. "He wants us all dead. I'm no coward," he spat. "I will not hide from this tyrant."

"Then you have killed your own son!" Remus said sharply. "You heard Dumbledore, this is not about you. It's about Harry. Will you not even hide to save your child?"

For the first time James's face showed fear. Feeling he'd gone too far, Remus stepped forward and put a hand on James's shoulder but the man shrugged him away angrily. He paced the room, looking furious. "Even if I am to hide," Jame said, "Who's to say we stay hidden?" He looked wildly around at his friends. "The Death Eaters are always one step ahead of us and we all know why. Someone is passing information along."

"Well it's damn well not one of us," Sirius said, shocked as if James had just suggested one of them was actually a unicorn. "We're your brothers."

James's fury did not ebb. Instead he shot a glare in Remus's direction. "I thought we were," James muttered. "I'm not so sure anymore."

"Now what's that supposed to mean?" Remus said quietly, dangerously.

"Just what I said," countered James, accusation thick in his voice. "You've been too chummy lately with those wolves of yours. Reckon you ought to join their cause, eh? Passing them inside information so you gain their trust? I know you told them about the McKinnons."

Remus felt a growl roll out of him. It rose from deep in his throat and escaped involuntarily. It was true, he'd told his pack about the mission the Mckinnons were on, but it was on Dumbledore's orders. It wasn't supposed to happen the way it did. Remus didn't mean for them to die.

James took a step back, looking at Remus like he'd never seen him before. Remus realized too late that he'd bared his teeth and was crouched as if ready to attack. But he couldn't help it. It was getting harder and harder to control his wolfish instincts, the rage that was always threatening to burst to the surface. Most of his life he'd managed to keep it clamped down, hidden behind a mild manner and calm temper. But not anymore. His pack was showing him there was no shame in what he was. He didn't need to pretend with them, not like he did with his school friends. Maybe that's all they were to him now, he thought as he angrily looked from the startled looks on both Sirius and Peter's faces. They didn't understand him, didn't accept him. Maybe he ought to really put in his lot with the werewolves. Maybe James was right.

Remus straightened up slowly, painfully, as if his body were made of iron. He looked into the faces of each of his friends. The ones he'd once called brothers. All he saw was distrust and fear. "If you don't trust me," he said calmly. "Then I will be going." He picked up his cloak and stepped into the fireplace. No one tried to stop him.

Looking back, Remus realizes that James had been afraid and angry. That he hadn't meant to push Remus so far. But, Remus reasons to himself, he was also afraid and angry. They all were. Maybe that's why Peter did what he did. Even now, knowing Peter is currently at the aid of Lord Voldemort, Remus just can't picture it. Peter, the same person who was terrified of Professor McGonnagal scolding him for late homework, the same person who didn't dare ask out Matilda Cherryroot even though she clearly fancied him, the same boy who invited poor, shabby Remus to Christmas pudding every year even though his parents were terrified of Peter's "werewolf friend."

But, he supposes it is more believable than Sirius being the one, as he'd believed for so long. Remus was back amongst the wolves when he learned of Voldemort's fall, and about James and Lily. The pack he'd joined called themselves the Mine Wolves because they lived in an abandoned gem mine in the Scottish countryside. Their alpha was an old man known only by his surname, Root.

It was Halloween night and the pack was celebrating with a feast. Jack'o'lanterns lined the tunnels and there were sweets and succulent meats. Someone had roasted a wild boar for the occasion and the mine was thick with the smell of cooking flesh that made Remus's mouth water. It reminded him of Halloween feasts at Hogwarts and he'd thought of his school friends for the first time in days. After storming away from Godric's Hallow, Remus had tried hard to put them out of his mind. Every time he thought of them, all he saw was their looks of shock and fear, fear of who he was. But Halloween was always the best time of year for the Marauders and without meaning to Remus began thinking back to happier times spent with his friends within the safe confines of Hogwarts, playing harmless pranks on people, gulping down butterbeer and gorging themselves on whatever sweets they could get their grubby hands on.

But Remus had new friends now. Brothers and sisters, really. And maybe a mate? He looked over at Charlotte, a beautiful young woman who had fierce blue eyes and dark hair that she wore chopped short with a crooked fringe as if she'd cut it herself. There weren't many women in the pack, just twenty or thirty compared to the fifty or so men. She had her pick of any of them, and for some reason, she'd chosen Remus. He'd been wary at first. She was feisty and strong willed where Remus was so reserved. But she'd taken an interest in him and she was slowly bringing him out of his shell, showing him there was no shame in being a wolf, actually taking pride in it. The concept was so foreign to him, but he couldn't help but be intoxicated by it.

Tonight she wore one of those rubber muggle Halloween masks. It was a wolf mask, and Charlotte thought the idea of dressing up as a werewolf as many muggle children did, hilarious. She removed the mask long enough to plant a long kiss on Remus's lips and he was so jubilant on firewhiskey and the smell of rare meat that he forgot to be embarrassed when the pack wolf whistled.

Root had called everyone together around midnight. "I've just received an owl from the village," he said gravely. "There are rumors that the Dark Lord is dead."

"Dead?" said Charlotte, from beside Remus. She looked confused, terrified...and hopeful? That's all that Remus cared about right now, the fact that Charlotte was hopeful the dark lord was dead. Of all the wolves Remus was trying to influence against Voldemort, Charlotte was by far the most resistant. She wasn't a bad person, not like the death eaters, but she was a pragmatist. Her main objective was to keep the pack safe.

Unlike Remus, she did not attend Hogwarts. Few of the pack did. His experience was unique in that. Many of the wolves in his pack who were bitten as children were kept at home, trained by their parents if they were lucky. Those that were not, were abandoned or lost. Charlotte was one of those. All she remembered is waking up alone in the woods. Root had found her, brought her to the pack. She'd grown up there, it's all she'd ever known.

When the Death Eaters came recruiting they made promises, but they also made threats. Charlotte was wary of wizards. With no formal magical training, her abilities were limited. She had a wand, one she'd stolen from a witch in a pub one night several years prior, and while she'd done her best with it, she only knew a few basic spells. Certainly not enough to defend herself against the most powerful wizard of all time. And she wasn't alone. Most of the pack was that way. They were afraid of what the death eaters could do. But they were also entranced by the promises they offered, of being considered equals in society.

Remus had tried his best to convince them all that these were empty promises. Voldemort valued blood above all, and their blood was tainted. But Charlotte was afraid. They all were. What choice did they have?

But now, if what Root said was true, Voldemort was dead. The threat was gone. Charlotte met Remus's gaze and there was definitely hope there. He almost missed what Root said next.

"The rumor is that the Dark Lord went after a baby. And this baby is the one that killed him."

Remus's head snapped around. "Who was this child?" he demanded suddenly. Root looked at him. "What is this child's name?"

Root glanced down at the message he carried. "It says the boy's name is Harry Potter."

The room spun. Harry? But how? They were supposed to be hidden. Dumbledore had told him just a week ago that James had agreed to the Fidelus charm. He, Lily and Harry were safe. There was no way to break the Fidelus charm. No way. That is, unless the secret keeper gave their location. But who would…? Sirius would be the secret keeper, naturally. Who would James trust more than him? And Sirius would never. Even under pain of torture, under the threat of death, surely... They had to have done something wrong. Maybe James had gotten bored, ventured out? But, he would never be that stupid, or that selfish. James and Lily would do anything to protect their son… But wait. James and Lily, did this mean…?

"What of the parents?" Remus demanded. "What's it say of the parents?"

Root's eyes narrowed. Until now Remus had done well at hiding his connection to his friends in the order. He tried to calm his racing heart. He had to keep up appearances, just in case the rumor was wrong. Because that's all it was, right? A rumor?

He took a deep breath and turned away. Charlotte was in deep discussion with a group of wolves so he took advantage of her being distracted and darted away. He found an empty passage and took out his wand. Taking a deep breath, he apparated to Godric's Hallow.

What he saw when he opened his eyes made his knee buckle. The house, Lily and James's little house, was a ruin. A crowd had gathered around it. Witches and wizards talking excitedly, staring in wonder. Remus pushed himself through them all. Hit wizards had put up a magical tape barrier to keep the onlookers out, but in Remus's terror, he blasted right through it. Before the hit wizards could stop him, he'd darted inside.

"James!" he called out. "Lily!" They clearly weren't there. He knew it before he'd even apparated. The house was just as he remembered it, except for the hole blasted in the ceiling of the living room. Looking up, he could see into Harry's nursery.

"Oh, no, no.." Remus ran his hands through his hair.

A pair of aurors pointed their wands at him. "You can't be in here," one of them said, but Remus hardly registered they were there. He fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands.

He felt a hand on his head and he looked up. Albus Dumbledore stood above him. His purple robes looked much too cheerful in the face of such destruction, but his eyes were so, so sad.

"Remus," he said.

"James?" he had to ask. He had to be sure. "Lily?"

Dumbledore shook his head. Remus's eyes blurred. At that moment he didn't care a lick if Voldemort was alive or dead, if the war was over or not. All he could think of was the last moment he'd seen James. The look on his face. Remus's shoulders shook with sobs.

"But, Harry is alive," Dumbledore said. Dumbly, Remus looked up at the ruined ceiling as if Harry would still be up in his bedroom. "He's with his aunt and uncle now," Dumbledore said, answering Remus's unspoken question.

"But..." Remus looked at Dumbledore. "What of Sirius? He's Harry's godfather...surely..."
Dumbledore looked away sadly.

Then, looking around Remus had the sudden realization. They were home, James and Lily, when Voldemort came for them. He'd gotten through the Fidelus charm somehow, which could only mean… "No."

Dumbledore looked forlorn. "It seems our friend Sirius perhaps had his own agenda."

"I don't believe it," Remus said, his eyes now dry. Some new feeling was replacing his despair and he clung to it. "He would never. Never, even if they tortured him. They tortured him, did they? Is he still alive?"

Dumbledore shook his head. Then he told Remus what had happened just hours ago, on a crowded muggle street. Remus stared in disbelief. He started shaking his head before Dumbledore even finished. "No," he said again. "It can't be." But he'd never known Albus Dumbledore to be wrong.

He'd lost them all then. All three friends, gone in one night. He squeezed his eyes shut, shame and regret filling him again. Hadn't he just thought to himself that he was outgrowing them? That they didn't understand him, that he didn't need them anymore? Oh, how wrong he was. How, horribly, woefully wrong.

He cried there on the floor of James and Lily's ruined house for he didn't know how long. Dumbledore stayed with him, for he knew that Remus, more than anyone else alive, was grieving the most. He'd lost everything, all in one night. And while the rest of the wizarding world was rejoicing at the fall of Lord Voldemort Remus Lupin lay in a crumpled heap, remembering his lost friends.