Summary: It has been two weeks since Sirius died and Remus is trying not to feel it. Sirius/Remus. One-sided Remus/Tonks. Fenrir/Remus.
Other Notes: my HBP reaction fic from 2005. So, obviously, there are no Deathly Hallows spoilers, but there is a lot of me trying to undo the damage R/T caused to the fannish section of my brain. Warnings for language and dysfunctional (to put it lightly) Fenrir/Remus.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, any of its characters including and especially Remus, Sirius, Dumbledore, Fenrir, Tonks, and Kinglsey, or any of its settings.
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one—war drags on
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The war drags on, sullen and silent, except for those terrible screams that ring on in his nightmares. When he wakes up in the morning he holds his head in his hands and he waits for the shocks and the shaking to cease, and then he splashes the cold water against his face and he puts everything else aside.
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Remus assumes Dumbledore wants to discuss their agreement. Because they did agree: Remus would go off and live with the werewolves, and stop bothering Kingsley while sharing his flat, and stop distracting Tonks while she tries to do her job, and stop beating himself up on the inside where no one can see and everyone can see. And while he's there, he can try to stop those creatures, that race that he can never break free of, and he can counter Fenrir, the growling monster of his dark.
"Remus," Dumbledore says, as they sit opposite each other and the sun streams through the window into the headmaster's office. It is early morning, early summer sun. It has been exactly two weeks since Sirius died, and Remus is trying not to feel it.
"Remus," Dumbledore says, and his voice is soft, and if Remus could still cry he would want to, at that moment. It has been a long time since anyone called him Remus. Only Sirius still remembered a time when people got close enough to him to call him by that given name.
"I've contacted Fenrir," Remus answers. He is speaking very fast, but very clear, and his hands are biting nails against each other. "I thought it best not to show up at their lair and ask them simply to invite me in. They would laugh me back ho—to Hogwarts."
He has no home, not anymore.
Dumbledore ignores the slip. He only nods, and leans forward, and says, "You know that we have no one else to send."
"I know."
"I would ask about the timing of such work, but—"
"I won't hear of it."
Remus has been staring at Dumbledore's desk, but he forces himself to look up once more. "If everyone stopped fighting whenever he felt loss, our effort would fall apart," he continues. "I don't need to rest, Albus. Rest is, in fact, the last thing that I need."
Dumbledore nods again, but it is many moments before he answers. "I have set up a meeting with Harry," is what he finally says. Remus feels himself shutting down: his insides fall apart and his eyes begin to lose focus and his ears hum. These are involuntary reactions, but he has learned a response for each one, a way to control his own body, a way to control himself. He doesn't want to discuss Harry. He owes Harry more now than can be put into words, but he can do nothing to fulfill his debt.
"I need to discuss with him the contents of Sirius's will," Dumbledore says. I need to discuss that document with you, too. You are the only other person mentioned in Sirius's papers."
"I asked him not to leave me anything," Remus says, before he can keep the words from bursting out.
"He mentions as much, in the note." Remus sees, now, that Dumbledore has a collection of papers in front of him—the majority resemble legal documents, but the top piece of parchment is ragged at the edges and covered in informal scrawl. He doesn't comment on the existence of a note, but his eyes shift with curiosity.
"It is addressed to me," Dumbledore says, as he hands that first sheet across the desk and into Remus's barely shaking hands, "but it is clearly meant for you."
Dear Albus:
I would like to thank you for taking care of my estate. The magic linking the house to Harry should hold, as I have been spending my considerable spare time setting up the exchange. However, expect all possibilities, for I am working against extensive and strong blood-magic. I was considering bringing up the subject with him, as a preparation for the possibility of my death, but I know he would hate the topic as much as I would.
Everything is straightforward—annotation is largely unnecessary, as I have given everything I own to Harry. I feel it necessary, however, to bring up The Remus Consideration. He has requested that I leave him nothing. I wish to respect his wishes, but he has given me everything in the past year and a half, and I feel it necessary to repay this debt as best I can. You understand. I have decided, then, to leave him what I can unofficially. Enclosed in my estate papers is a memory. I instruct that it be given to him, and if he does not wish to keep it, that it be destroyed. He will know why. I would hope that he would accept one last thing from me.
Signed Sirius Black
"A memory?" Remus says, when he has read the letter twice.
Dumbledore hands him a thin, tightly capped vial. Remus is almost afraid to accept it; he worries he will drop it and it will shatter.
"I get the feeling it is of something of great importance to him. Something that he hopes will not die with him."
Remus stares at Dumbledore so long his eyes begin to water. He wants to crush the vial, the memory, the ache of all those years inside his chest, against the pressure of his fist.
"But then, I have not viewed the memory," Dumbledore continues. "It could be anything."
"I don't know what's in it," Remus says, "if you're wondering." He looks down again at the vial cradled in his hand, the sheet of parchment resting on his knees. He feels the hollow carved in his stomach begin to fill up, but whatever is filling him, is drowning him, and he wonders automatically if it is fake or real.
"Sirius never mentioned anything like this."
No one ever mentioned anything like this.
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end part 1/5