On my profile, there's a list of all the Opera Omnia oneshots, with a summary for each of them, to make it easier for you guys to select what you're interested in.

Prompts for this:

Has to be 1825 words (A/N doesn't count).

No '?' marks allowed.

A/N: This story is where I will store all my oneshots for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition.

For inspiration, I looked in the dictionary. It gave me three words: intenerate (to soften something) and succorance (the act of seeking out affectionate care and social support). The third is Pickwickian, the title of this oneshot. It means 'intended or taken in a sense other than the obvious or literal one'.

Summary: Remus should've known Sirius was a traitor.

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The pain was terrible. It wasn't an acute feeling that would leave him screaming; it was a never-ending, dull throb where his heart was supposed to be. He felt empty, hollow. He was bereft of purpose, useless, to be discarded. He was nothing but a shell of a man. His closest friends were dead because of that traitor.

Remus should've known Sirius was a traitor. Peter had been too sweet, incapable of even thinking of betraying his friends. He would've been the kind to lie and avoid giving any information to the enemy, even if he was forced to. Sirius was the one who had been closest to the Potters. He'd had access to sensitive information, had been allowed privileges and opportunities any Death Eater would've given anything to have. It had been kept secret, but Remus had very well guessed that Sirius had been James, Lily and little Harry's Secret Keeper. James had always trusted Sirius the most, and Remus had accepted that, had tucked away the bitter feeling of rejection, telling himself he was being ridiculous and it wasn't anything to be jealous about. So when Voldemort had killed the Potters, had managed to bypass the Fidelius Charm protecting the house...

The betrayal had left him breathless, on the edge of panicking hysterically. Sirius had sold out the Potters, and Remus hadn't seen it coming. He had felt (and still did), like the worst friend in the world, unworthy of having once been given the Potter's trust. He should've been there, he should've done something. He had always been so, so blind to the truth.

Sirius was a Black, and Remus had always believed the man had hated his family, hated the fact that they were Dark, and had wanted to differentiate himself from his lineage, show people he wasn't his family. That, Remus had thought, had been the reason why Sirius had been a Gryffindor, why he'd run away from his home to live with James. (Never ever with me, his inner voice lamented.)

In hindsight, it had probably never been hate that Sirius had felt for his relatives. Indeed, he must've felt smothered and had wanted to build his own reputation, by himself. He'd wanted to show that he could do better that his family. He'd probably befriended James, Remus and Peter just to give himself and alibi, look like a nice repenting wizard from a dark family, biding his time until he could deliver the fatal blow. All along, Sirius had simply wanted to do something better, something horrible that would make his family look like amateurs. He had wanted to become a feared Dark wizard without relying on his parents' reputation.

Remus realized that now. After all, Sirius had achieved his goal. He'd been responsible for James and Lily dying, had killed Peter in person and had murdered several muggles. He would've probably gone after Remus next, if it hadn't been for the Aurors detaining him.

Even now, Remus could remember the touches, that confident smile, the physical intimacy that came so easily when with Sirius. Remus had never trusted enough to let people come close. Sirius had been the first, worming his way into Remus' heart until every instant without him had been akin to heartbreak.

Sirius had been a master manipulator, and no one had seen it coming. No one had seen his betrayal coming, because everyone had wanted to look beyond his family, and give him a chance. People had wanted to be kind and accepting, and let Sirius prove himself. As a werewolf, Remus knew what it was to be judged according to something you had no control over. Sirius had been judged all his life for his family's tendencies, and Remus had thought himself above prejudice, had allowed Sirius the chance to prove he was good, telling himself he'd be better than all the others and wouldn't judge Sirius just because he was a Black.

"One Firewhiskey for you, sir."

A large glass was placed in front of him. He raised his head and thanked the waitress, a young brown haired woman he vaguely remembered from Hogwarts. She smiled, and left to continue serving other clients.

Remus' gaze went to the glass. He stared at it, fascinated by how the wood of the table was refracted by the glass. He allowed himself a second to worry about money, about how he shouldn't be spending it on useless things, before he pushed those thoughts back violently, and took hold of the glass.

He took a small sip, thinking of how the day had gone.

Despite Voldemort's death, the war wasn't finished. There were still rogue Death Eaters causing troubles and, more than ever, people were wary of Dark creatures. Today, Remus had gone looking for a job. He'd been ready to accept anything, as long as he'd be able to make some money. He'd been forced to refuse many jobs because the working hours presented too much of a risk of his situation being discovered. One job had seemed interesting, though; proofreading for the Clairvoyant, a newspaper that published weekly. He would be able to work from home, and there was no risk of him being forced to ask to be excused every month during the full moon and making people suspicious.

Remus put his glass back down, and rubbed his temples, trying to distract himself from his worries.

He had trusted Sirius. When it came down to it, that was a fact he could not deny. He'd believed they were close, friends that would always have each other's backs. Unfortunately, it had been a lie. He'd never thought to second guess the foundation of a relationship that had started before the war; he'd never realized Sirius could've been planning that far ahead and now he was paying for it. Sirius had intenerated his heart, and even now he missed the man, despite the fierce sting of the betrayal.

Sirius had that charm, the intelligence and that sheer magnetism that attracted people to him. Remus had been caught in it too, fascinated by the effulgent man ever since they'd met as boys. Sirius had been Remus' ballast, the one that ensured nothing went wrong.

Now, he was gone, somewhere in a cell in Azkaban. Remus was alone, heavily grieved at the loss of his friends.

At school, the succorance Remus had felt everyday had been resolved thanks to Sirius, who'd given him the friendship he'd always wanted. He'd been dreadfully jealous of James, who had always had a closer friendship with Sirius. Now, he wondered if he ought to be glad he didn't get too close to Sirius before the man had shown his true colours. The betrayal and loss hurt, yes, but Remus could've died like James and Lily. Had he trusted Sirius with too much information as they had, he might've died, too.

And Harry... poor Harry. The boy had been placed into a home with strong wards to protect him from Death Eaters. The location of the place was kept secret, and even Remus didn't know where the boy lived. Harry was a hero, and had managed to stop a very dangerous man; clearly, he would be placed somewhere very safe and kept away from danger.

A part of Remus wanted to see the boy, hug him and feel his pulse to know he was alive and had truly survived. A much larger part of Remus was one he knew too well; the coward, the one who ran from his problems, who felt more fear at the thought of facing his problems than the action itself. James, Peter and... even Sirius, they had learned to see the true Remus, to see past the werewolf and know the man underneath.

It wasn't surprising that Harry wouldn't necessarily be as kind.

Harry hadn't learnt that werewolves weren't always bad; he might grow up condemning Remus his whole life. Even if Remus tried rectifying the situation, there was still the fact that he was responsible for the James, Lily and Peter's death. Remus hadn't seen the monster under his friend's skin, he hadn't realized Sirius was a traitor, and his overwhelming trust in the man had led to the downfall of many good people.

Harry would never forgive him, would never allow himself to see him, and Remus couldn't blame him. Remus hadn't saved the boy's parents. He had been useless, as always.

Vision strangely blurred, Remus looked down and realized he had finished his glass. He'd somehow drunk it all without realizing. This had to be his fate; to become a drunkard for everyone to laugh at.

Sometimes, he even allowed himself to think about the trial, and Sirius' expression as the sentence had come out. Sirius had been pleading his innocence, the monster somehow believing that his acting skills would be enough to save him. They hadn't been. Sirius had been fooling everyone for years, pretending to be a nice and charming reformed Dark wizard, right until the moment he'd shown his true colours. He had believed he would be able to use his superb acting skills to avoid Azkaban, but Remus had been there, ready to ensure the man would never hurt anyone, ever again. He'd testified, explained how the Potters had been protected, and how he'd suspected Sirius of being the Secret Keeper. Sirius had been yelling about his innocence, but Remus had refused to listen to the man besmirch Peter's name by accusing him of being the one responsible, when the traitor had clearly been Sirius.

As per the rules in times of war, no veritaserum had been used. The proof had been undeniable. There was also the fact that Voldemort had been rumoured to have found a way to avoid the potion's effects. Ever since the rumour had shown, the Minister had had all his researchers trying to create another Truth's Serum. Until the new serum would be found, there had been no use of veritaserum, and the Ministry had relied on evidence, instead.

Feeling as if he were about to collapse, Remus hailed the waitress. She came over swiftly, her polite smile changing into a frown of concern as she approached him and noticed his state.

"You don't seem to be feeling well," said the young woman.

He couldn't help but feel as though he'd known her. It took a few seconds, but he finally recognized her as a Ravenclaw, a pure-blooded witch who had studied with him in the library, once.

He'd been silent too long, and the witch was looking quite worried.

"I..." His voice came out in a rasp. He hadn't been speaking much since the war had ended. Hadn't had anyone to speak to. "I'm fine."

To reinforce the lie, he smiled shakily.

Remus had loved, once. It had ended badly. Now, he wouldn't allow himself to make the same mistake. He would be forever running from love, attempting to escape its hungry maw.

-x-x-x-

A/N: I repeat that on my profile, there's a list of all the Opera Omnia oneshots, with a summary for each of them, to make it easier for you guys to select what you're interested in.