I.
Remus entered the flat to see the previously – somewhat – tidy living room a complete mess, indicating Sirius and James had been at it again. They both had their hearts respectively set on being the best godfather and father there were, so it wasn't unusual to find them with all the books on babies they could put their hands on, going voraciously through them in an attempt to store every possible bit of knowledge in their heads as quickly as possible.
Needless to say, both forgot virtually everything they had learned in a matter of hours, but they meant well, and they had fun – and, most importantly, it made James less nervous when handling little Harry, so it was good thing. The twitch on Lily's left eye, instigated by James holding Harry the wrong way and constantly nearly dropping the boy out of pure nerves was threatening to become permanent.
So used he was to being welcome by a pair of exultant, proud-looking dark-haired men, Remus was rather surprised, to say the least, to be jumped by a rather distraught looking James the moment he crossed the threshold.
"He is going to hate me, Remus!" James bawled, gripping Remus's collar.
"What?" Remus asked, confused, as he stared into the wide hazel eyes.
"Harry, of course! He's going to hate me and want me dead, Moony!"
"James calm down, I'm sure…" Remus began, wondering from where James had gotten the idea that harmless, laughing 4-month-old Harry, one of the cutest creatures Remus had ever seen, would hate him at any time in the future. Knowing his friend, the boy had probably started crying when James was in the room out of sheer coincidence and James had taken it as a sign of certain doom, or something.
"But see, here! Read this!" James shoved a book under Remus's nose – he vaguely recognised as being one of his school books from a psychology course, and all he could do was moan as he caught a glimpse of the words "Oedipus complex," before James took the book back. "He's going to hate me and I'm going to be a horrible father to him and probably traumatise him in several ways before he can even speak and I need a hug, Moony." Remus hugged his friend awkwardly, inconspicuously prying the book away from his fingers.
He had no idea how James had made his way through the book and managed to get the idea that, somehow, Harry was going to hate him, but he'd make sure to get all of his psychology books under extra security from now on – Remus could only guess how he had managed to gain access to them. He decided to account that to the fact that Sirius was nowhere in sight, as leaving a James unsupervised with no entertainment was never a good idea – Remus could only guess what James had stumbled upon in his scrutiny of their apartment. "He's…" James began again, letting go of Remus.
"James…"
"But…"
"James." The dark haired man closed his mouth and set his eyes firmly on Remus. "He's not going to hate you – and you are not a bad father. I mean, how many parents do you know who would actually go through all this trouble?" he asked, motioning to the books sprawled all across the room.
"I guess…" James mumbled "But what if…"
"Then we'll cross that bridge when we get to it, okay?"
"Alright."
"Now help me pick all these up, please?" They began to tidy the room, with a few apologies from James for the mess. "No problem – by the way, where's Sirius?"
"Peter flooed an hour or so ago, calling him." James supplied, placing a few books back onto the shelves, and others into a bag he'd brought with him. "I think they may have a mission or something. Sure seemed important…"
"Oh," was all Remus could say as he also replaced some books on the shelves, unable to hide his dismay.
For the past few months they had been sent by the Order more and more often on missions they couldn't even talk about; they barely got to see each other anymore, and Remus was seriously considering dropping out of college, because he no longer had time for his job, studies and work for the Order. It had been just a hobby of sorts, after all, and he had higher priorities at the time, especially since Voldemort appeared to be currently targeting the Potters for some reason.
Remus had hoped they'd get some time together that weekend, but apparently, those plans were down the drain.
"Well, I guess I'll be going – Lily will probably be back with Harry from her mother's by now…" said James, noticing Remus's sudden downcast appearance.
Remus just nodded as James left.
By the time Sirius came back, Remus was already in bed, half-asleep. Sirius came in quietly, but not silently enough for Remus a week before the full moon.
"What did Peter have to say?" Remus asked as Sirius began to undress. He knew instantly something was very wrong – there was a grave look about him that Remus didn't like in the slightest and the moment walked in the room, it had been taken over by the strong smell of cigarettes and alcohol.
Sirius never drank alone or smoked anytime other than after sex or when he was worried.
"I have to go away tomorrow – I'll be away for a week or so," he said, not looking at the other man, making Remus's feeling of dread grow.
"Where are they sending you this time?" It was futile asking, he knew – their missions were secret even to the other members in the Order, not to be discussed with anyone other than Dumbledore or the eventual partner. Remus's part mostly consisted in recruiting creatures outcast by society like himself, and he could guess Sirius did something not very different, only with integrants of Dark families who didn't fancy going that way – people were just that much more persuadable when they could relate.
"Can't tell - you know how it is. Dumbledore's orders." There was definitely something very wrong, from Sirius's tone to his insistence in not looking at Remus.
"Yeah, right." He tried not to sound concerned by Sirius's strange behaviour. "So you won't be here for the full, I take it?"
"No," was his dry response, before he turned off the lights and lay down with his back turned to Remus.
Staring at Sirius's hunched back, Remus had to fight not to scream – this wasn't how things were supposed to go. Sirius was supposed to be glad to be home, to kiss and make love to Remus, going to sleep entangled with his lover, taking over nearly all the bed. He was not supposed to be in this somber, strange mood, to say virtually nothing to Remus and then go to sleep all curled up upon himself in the far end of the bed, as if trying by all costs not to touch Remus.
Remus felt a desperate urge to talk to Sirius, find out why the sudden coldness, clear whatever was wrong out, but something stopped him. He could tell by the tension in Sirius's shoulders and muscles that the other man was not asleep, and yet, he couldn't say anything.
Something about Sirius's strange behaviour oozed a feeling of foreboding that only allowed his hand to ghost Sirius's shoulder when Remus reached out, that made him choke on his words before he even tried to speak.
They lay there silently all trough the night, neither quite sleeping, and when, early in the morning, Sirius stood up to pack his things and leave, Remus pretended to sleep and Sirius pretended to believe.
II.
Sirius smiled, self-satisfied, as he wrote down the incantation for a communication charm that would allow James and Lily to hear all the going-ons in Harry's room during the night, so they wouldn't have to worry and wake up every hour to check on him. James had been complaining for a while now that, though Harry often did, he no longer slept through the night, because Lily would wake up every other hour to check upon the baby.
He closed the book in his hands, considering his jobs done for the afternoon – his assignment of the day had been handy spells and he'd found quite a few, despite his utter lack of concentration. Remus would be coming home in a few hours and they'd be able, for the first time in nearly a month, to spend a decent amount of uninterrupted time together and his skin was tingling with anticipation.
James still had his nose burrowed in a book, so he began to float the books they were already done with around the room as a means of distraction.
It was starting to work, when a flare of green in the hearth broke his concentration, causing all the books to fall to the floor – or, in the case of a rather old, dusty tome, right on James's head.
" Hey!" exclaimed James, furiously rubbing the sore spot.
"Hey there, Wormy! Long time no see, huh?" asked Sirius, ignoring the complaint from his friend.
"Hi Sirius." A frown overcame Sirius's smile – the mousy-hared man looked nervous and fidgety, like something might jump at him at any moment.
"Is there something wrong, Pete?"
"Yeah – well, no… Sorta. I need to talk to you," he said, throwing James a quick glance to indicate he didn't mean him too.
"Alright," he said, concern overcoming the excitement he'd felt only a few moments before. " Hey, James, if I'm not back by the time Moony comes home, tell him I had to go, but won't be long, alright?"
"Sure."
Sirius stepped through the fire into Peter's apartment. He had only a moment to be awed by it – fuck, Pete, where did you get this kinda cash? – before his eyes fell upon the figure of a very distraught looking Peter.
"What's wrong?"
Sirius felt dizzy as he walked down the street from Peter's building - he had offered to start the Floo for him, but Sirius didn't feel up to using it; he most definitely would go through the wrong grate.
As he walked down the streets of the unknown neighbourhood, Sirius felt numb. It couldn't be happening – not to him, to them, Remus would never...
Sirius barely felt it as his fist connected with a hard wall.
Peter must've seen it wrong – Remus would never go into Knockturn Alley, especially not accompanied by people like Mulciber and Malfoy.
But no – Peter had perfect eyesight, and anyway he said he followed them into The Joint, a seedy pub known for its controversial crowd of customers, and then floo out. And he had no reason to distrust Peter – and as much as he told himself he had no reason to distrust Remus either, he knew it wasn't exactly true.
Signs of there being a leak somewhere in the Order had been present for months, and it was no secret the horrible treatment the British dispensed to werewolves – he'd lost count of the many times Remus returned home from work the first day in after the full-moon unemployed, or the many surprise check-ups he had to attend at the Ministry with less than an hour's notice.
Remus rarely outwardly complained, but they all knew how much it bothered him, and with reason. Sirius would be lying if he said he didn't understand how a person who had to go through all that could consider going over to the Dark side.
And that frightened him. If he, Dark Arts hater extraordinare, could get why someone would want to join, what said Remus wouldn't?
Sirius let himself fall to the floor, his back against the cold bricks. He and Peter had discussed it and decided Sirius was to keep an eye out for any signs that might show their fears true, but that, until they had concrete proof, they wouldn't tell anyone their suspicions, so as not to alarm anyone.
And it was all very well to him, except he didn't trust himself for the job. He didn't want to see any signs, even if they were blatantly there – he didn't want to admit to himself that Remus might be a traitor, that Remus might betray him.
Sirius pressed his fingers to his closed eyelids, jaded, as he felt the hated prickling of tears. Blacks didn't cry, not in public, and as much as he abhorred his family, this was one of their few precepts he actually followed – only two persons had seen him cry since he'd left childhood, James and Remus, and even those few times had been mere chance.
Remus had happened to find him after he got sorted into Gryffindor, the same way he found him, a few years later, after the first time he witnessed Remus's monthly transformation. James had coincidentally been there the precise moment it dawned on him that he no longer had a family. Remus had woken up while he cried after that horrible night in the Shack, when, because of Sirius's idiocy, he'd nearly died. James had been there with him when he received the notice that Regulus was dead.
For the most part of his life he'd avoided the best he could being caught in what he considered such a weak state, and now, as he sat there in the middle of the unknown Muggle neighbourhood, there was little he could do to stop the tears from falling down and the passers-by, the same ones that threw him horrified looks, from watching him.
And suddenly, he just didn't care anymore.
It was well past mid-night when he got home, feeling light-headed and mildly sick from the several drinks he'd drank over the past few hours; his throat ached from the strong beverages and many cigarettes he'd consumed, and he knew his clothes stank from what he'd been doing.
He walked in quietly, but without casting a muffling charm as he normally would if he really didn't want to wake up Remus – because as much as part of him didn't want to face the other man, he also felt a twisted sense of need to see the face of the man who, quite possibly, had the key to crumbling his world.
He had barely opened the door when he heard Remus moving in their bed. Sirius didn't look at him – couldn't, all need to face the possible traitor gone – and began to undress.
"What did Peter have to say?" Remus sounded drowsy and worried, evoking a quickly quashed wave of affection from Sirius.
"I have to go away tomorrow – I'll be away for a week or so," lied Sirius – he had not warned Peter nor anyone else, but he needed to be alone, to figure things out. He'd owl once he was already far away – and only then, because he knew how convincing the older man could be and he didn't feel sure enough in his resolve to face Dumbledore's persuasive abilities. It wasn't as if it'd be held against him – Dumbledore had given him some time off to rest and what he did with it was his own problem.
"Where are they sending you this time?" Remus's voice was small and weak but sounded deceitful and fake in Sirius ears.
"Can't tell - you know how it is. Dumbledore's orders." Sirius answered through gritted teeth, forcing himself not to let Remus notice his anger.
"Yeah, right… So you won't be here for the full, I take it?"
"No," Sirius answered dryly, for the first time glad he wouldn't be present. Seeing Remus pained and hurt wouldn't bode well now.
He lay down as far as he could from Remus, unable to sustain the thought of being touched by him, even though another part of him wanted to, so he could show, as he could not say it, that Remus was loved and that Sirius was by his side, whenever Remus needed him.
But he didn't.
Sirius lay there awake, feeling Remus's eyes scrutinising his back all night long. He said nothing the next morning as he packed and left, all and every words he could've said lodged in his throat.