A/N: I haven't written in a long time, but now I'm on spring break. So I spent the day knitting and listening to Prisoner of Azkaban on audio, and I got to the part where it's Halloween and everyone's at Hogsmede, but Harry. So this is just a oneshot, but I hope you enjoy it. Poke me, and hopefully I'll write more.


It wasn't guilt that made Remus ask Harry to come to his office for tea. He knew this once Harry had left his office. Remus pulled out an old faded afghan that was fraying at all of the edges. It had once been a navy blue and silver that Sirius had knitted for him for Christmas in their seventh year. For the sick days, he had said. As wrapped the afghan around himself, he reheated the tea with a wave of his wand. The thing about Sirius was, he had never spoken it aloud. Remus just knew that it was what he had meant.

After every full moon since then, he would wrap himself in the afghan. He tried not to think about Sirius now, or ever. It was his fault that James and Lily had died twelve years ago to the day. It was Sirius's fault for betraying them.

It was Remus's fault for not noticing that Sirius was a traitor.

But it was not guilt that forced him to ask Harry to join him for tea.

If Remus could do one more thing, just one, to atone for the royal fuckup that resulted in their deaths, that Remus could never forgive himself for, he would do it. If that meant sitting with Harry on the anniversary of their death, he would do it.

It was definitely a sick day. The sun was still high in the sky, but Remus, always aware of the moon, knew what tonight meant.

It meant drinking this god-awful potion, and James and fed him some awful potions in the guise of becoming better pranksters, sitting in his office, with his former lover's blanket draped around him.

Remus knew what it meant to be alone in the world. He would give anything for Harry to not feel that way.