Disclaimer: I don't own anything...
The story - or rather the train of thoughts - is set after the battle of the Ministry in Order of the Phoenix.
Time and again
Quiet in the middle of the ongoing fight. That was what it was like to see Sirius die.
He fell through the veil quickly, did not leave much time to think. I reacted instinctively and held fast to Harry to prevent him from following his godfather's fate. When I let go of him, I fought on, in the battle that is well-known by now.
It was not until several hours later that I realized I was the only surviving Marauder. Of course, Peter was still alive, but to Sirius and me he had died the moment we discovered his treachery. From my point of view therefore I was the only one left. Again. With the horrors of Sirius's death came the memories of the time after James and Lily had been murdered. I don't know what was worse.
It was just like fourteen years ago but with the full knowledge about what exactly I'd lost this time. The first time around there had been a period of estrangement on both sides – because James, Lily and Sirius thought I was a spy and because I thought my lycantrophy made me especially vulnerable to You-Know-Who's attempts to infiltrate the Order. That way I had dealt with their loss before it actually came to it, in a way.
This time around, I had indulged in Sirius's presence, enjoyed the time I spent with him. In fact, the morning before he died I had breakfast with him in Grimmauld Place. He had complained that he felt useless, more a burden to the Order than anything else, and what particularly bothered him was the fact that he could be of no open help to Harry. "It's almost like I'm still in Azkaban. It doesn't make any difference in his life." That's what he said when we were sitting at one en of the long table, eating scrambled eggs and fried bacon.
And that was what I remembered when I returned to the empty house. Fourteen years ago, I didn't have this kind of memory. The last time I had met my friends before the fateful night had been on my birthday in March which they dutifully celebrated with me. It had been that night I decided to distance myself from them to protect both them and me. This time around the loss hit me even harder because I was not prepared for it, even though I knew we were in the middle of a war.
It was not until the Order set up headquarters at Grimmauld Place in late spring of 1995 that Sirius and I had the opportunity to sit down, literally, and talk our way through the last decade or so. At first we were both reluctant to do so and avoided each other, talking only strictly Order-business whenever we hat to talk at all. One day, then, I stumbled upon him in the library, a room in the house you wouldn't expect Sirius to be in. But he was, and as I wanted to turn around and leave again, continuing the game of hide-and-don't-seek, he said "Don't run away again. We've done that enough, haven't we?" I looked him straight in the eye, trying to determine whether his utterance held any accusation but couldn't find any. Instead, he was looking more anxious than anything else, so I found it fairly safe to stay. I sat down on the armchair across the little table he was sitting at.
"We have," I simply said.
"But why?" Sirius asked.
I shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe we both dreaded to talk about more personal issues?" It was his turn to shrug.
"It's not like I don't want to know what you've been doing these last few years…" he left the sentence unfinished.
"It's just that it brings up bad memories, right?" I continued. Sirius hesitated for a moment, then shook his head which made me lift my eyebrows enquiringly.
"The bad memories don't bother me as much as the good ones do. I think I've been through every single bad memory that I've ever experienced in Azkaban, only the thought that I was innocent kept me sane."
"I remember," I said quietly, recalling the night in the Shrieking Shack when we discovered Peter's true loyalty.
"There were no good memories left to contrast with the bad ones, though, which was actually pretty lucky," he continued, letting out a dry laugh. "That's what's happening now, see? I remember all these good times, at school, at the Order, and it's not been until after Azkaban that I finally see what we've lost." He looked past me, as if seeing them right behind me at that very moment.
"I think I lost you even before that Halloween night," I stated. Obviously, Sirius couldn't follow my train of thought.
"What do you mean, Remus?" he asked.
"Don't you remember I didn't see you between my birthday that year and the day before it happened?" Now I was hurt. Hadn't he remembered that little detail?
"I do, but you were still in contact with the rest of us, weren't you? So we were still there." His logic made sense, but not to me, not then.
"Sirius, you do realize that I deliberately kept myself away from you, don't you? It was your idea I was the spy, if I remember correctly. So did you never wonder why I refused to meet you for such a long time? I had said goodbye to you on my birthday, for the sake of your safety, an the Order's." There it was, the revelation I had never intended to make.
Sirius stared at me. "I didn't know we were playing the blame game now."
I don't remember too much of the ensuing argument we had but when it was over we were both tearful and exhausted. And done with the past.
"Care to have a bite in the kitchen, Moony?" Sirius asked jovially back then.
"You know I'd never bite you, Padfoot. Far too old flesh," I retorted. I never noticed it then, but it was the first time we used our Marauder names after Sirius had escaped from Azkaban. The last time I called Sirius 'Padfoot' was shortly before I left Grimmauld Place the day he died. I told him "Padfoot, stay put and don't let Snape provoke you."
It didn't work.