One week, they told Harry. They needed him to spend one more week at 12 Grimmauld Place before he could go back to the Burrow.
Remus had hated the idea from the start. It wasn't fair; Harry had just lost Sirius, and was struggling with the weight of this war, and they were asking him to spend one more week in that horrid place. Ron had insisted on coming too, and though Molly had tried to object, Remus agreed with the youngest Weasley. Harry would need all the support he could get to make it through this week.
The boy had become terribly withdrawn. One look at him told Remus he hadn't had a good night's sleep in weeks. But Remus didn't feel it was his place to say anything. He had never been as close to Harry as Sirius had been, didn't want to take Sirius's place. Sirius had been his surrogate father, not Remus. It was as if there was a line on the ground, and Remus dared not cross it.
The first night back for Harry, Remus stayed up in the kitchen. There wasn't a sound in the house aside from someone moving around midnight, and then moving again in the morning. Remus thought nothing of it.
The second night Remus was reading in the library. Again he heard someone taking the stairs around midnight, and someone else in the morning. The book was pretty good.
The third night Remus sat in the parlor, staring at the ceiling. He knew he needed to get some sleep too, but it had been so long since Remus had looked healthy no one seemed to have noticed. All the attention was rightfully on Harry. Someone walked across the landing above him, and little puffs of dust fell from the ceiling. He squinted, trying to keep it from his eyes.
The fourth night Remus decided enough was enough. He had to get some sleep. As he made his way to the room, Remus thought he heard someone ahead of him, but that couldn't have been. Sirius had picked Remus's room out special for him, the closest bedroom to his. The only rooms on this floor were Remus's and Sirius's.
The fifth night Remus finally noticed. As he made his way to his room, he heard someone, gently sobbing. Moving past his own door, he found the door to Sirius's room open a crack. He should have known, all that moving about: it had to have been Harry.
Harry seemed too small in the room, tossing and turning in the red and gold bed. Remus watched from the door, his heart beating faster with every passing moment. Was this really the boy Lily had carried? The little baby he held with Lily into the night, waiting for James to come home to meet his new son? The little wizard who loved the tricks and toys Sirius always brought him, and snuggling in Remus's sweater during that cold winter? He remembers the bear costume James put Harry in as a joke around Christmas. Harry had laughed every time Remus had thrown him into the air, saying "grrr!" Somewhere he still has a picture of Harry dressed up as that little cub, in a box of old memories that only Remus was left to remember.
Suddenly the too-grown-up boy was screaming, and Remus reacted without thinking of that line on the ground. He pulled the door closed behind him and ran to Harry, who was clawing at a pillow. "We can still reach him, he's only on the other side!" Harry was screaming as he rolled away from Remus, who was trying to calm the boy. A fear filled Remus even before Harry yelled out, "Sirius!"
Of course. Remus knew it would happen, knew being back here would bring back memories too painful for Harry, as they had been too painful for the godfather he had lost too soon. Remus had seen so many loved ones die, lost so much during the first war, grown so old and tired, that the pain of another death had only been but another lash on his scarred and bloodied soul.
But as he pinned the boy's arms down, as Harry stopped his screaming and let Remus hold him tight, the reality hit him. Remus had loved Sirius; Remus had loved Sirius more than you should be allowed to love somebody. And Remus had lost Sirius not once, but twice now. Yet this was Harry's first lash, the first wound for a boy who would collect many more before this war was over.
The night James and Lily died, Remus had been torn between running for Harry and going to Sirius. But he made the selfish choice and went for the man he loved rather than the boy he adored, because somewhere in his mind he knew Harry would still be there in the morning but Sirius might not be.
Neither one was there November 1st.
Remus held the only connection left to a happy childhood close to his chest, the words he had always wanted to say tumbling from his lips before he could stop them. They were too fast and too muddled, but Remus didn't care. "Harry, Harry, I'm so sorry. I never wanted any of this to happen. I never wanted you to have a life that was filled with so much loss. It was suppose to be different, Harry, we were fighting for a world that was different. That was the world your parents wanted, that was why James took so many missions before you were born; he was trying to buy happy days for you. And your mother, she never said no Harry, because she knew it too, I think she knew the days were numbered but never how low the number was. Your first gift was an old scarf of mine; I wrapped you in it the night you were born Harry. I wish I knew where that scarf was, you loved it so much. I wanted to see you Harry, wanted to see you so much but I couldn't do it. I couldn't go see you. I have all these baby pictures of you, and they're so worn out Harry, they're so worn because I held them too often those twelve years apart. Because I needed to know I hadn't broken my promise Harry, my promise to love you and take care of you. I love you Harry, I love you so much. I'm so sorry…" He buried his head in the unruly hair, too much like James, and cried. "It was never suppose to be like this Harry. It was going to be better. I was suppose to make it better, for you."
At some point Harry had woken from his nightmare, but Remus hadn't noticed. It was the arms snaking around his chest, that's when he knew his secrets meant for the night had been heard.
How long they sat like that, Remus didn't know. Harry fell back to sleep, and Remus didn't have the heart to leave him. Looking around the room Remus tried to remember: How many letters had Sirius written from this room? How many times did he tell Remus of his great ideas to piss off his parents? How many times did he say he was going to leave, and never come back?
Remus was ashamed the next day. He hid in the library, looking for that book he had enjoyed, but it gave him no pleasure the second time. Tonks had come looking for him, but he sent her away, not wanting to see those same eyes Sirius had had. Molly had brought up food, but somehow it was never eaten.
The sixth night Remus made his way to his room, but the door was already open. Inside Harry was sitting on the small couch by the fireplace. When he heard Remus, he looked up with red puffy eyes and a sad little smile.
"Remus, can you tell me about Sirius?"