Remus settled down on the worn seat, resting his head on the window and allowing the vibrations to move uncomfortably through his head. The rain slipped down the window, leaving trails of water on the glass.
It was with surprise that he had received an owl from Dumbledore. He had been even more surprised when it appeared to be offering him a job, nearly tipping his chair over as he stood up suddenly, clutching the letter. He had been desperate to tell someone, but as he realised he really had no one to tell, he had sat down again resignedly. It had rather taken some of the novelty off.
He hadn't sat on the Hogwarts Express for fifteen years, but the passage of time had made the old engine no worse for wear. Remus found the consistency comforting. To travel by train was by no means necessary – teachers usually flooed to the school - yet it had never crossed his mind to travel any way other way.
He expected to be flooded with happy memories of his friends in their school days.
After all, the first time he ever travelled on the Hogwarts Express, in a compartment identical to the one he was in now, he had met Sirius Black. Instead of memories of singing and gossip and sweets and laughter, however, he could think of only one evening.
Remus Lupin was not a stupid man. Young though he was, he considered himself to be well read. But no book could have prepared him for the War. No matter how many books he had read about the horrors, about the grief and the hardship, nothing could have prepared him for how it would tear his life to shreds as he stood by and watched helplessly.
A year ago, he'd had loving friends and an adoring boyfriend. Now, his friendships were cracking under the strain of uncertainty and betrayal, and his relationship had long since crumbled.
The break up itself had been rather uneventful. One day, Remus had woken to find his bed empty, his drawers devoid of everything Sirius. He had accepted it without a fuss, and had gone about his business pretending he had long ago stopped loving the bastard.
In the corner of his dingy living-room, the telephone rang, cutting through the heavy,
perpetual silence.
"Moony, mate. It's James." His voice was worn, but forcibly cheerful. "Long time no speak. Listen, I'm trying to get the old gang together for a drink. You'll come, won't you?"
As Remus strode into his classroom, perfectly aware he was at least ten minutes late, he realised this would be the first time he'd met Harry since the train ride. His stomach twisted at the sight of the mop of black hair, reminding him of James like a punch to the stomach, but he ignored it.
"Would you please put all your books back in your bags? Today's will be a practical lesson. Follow me."
It had been well over a week since Remus had begun teaching at Hogwarts, and yet every time he entered the staff room, as he did now, his class trailing behind him, he couldn't help but feel a little bit rebellious, and remember the time Peter had suggested they fill the staff room with slugs, a joke which had become infamous for a time.
And there, as if Remus needed another reminder of his sixteen-year-old self, sat
Severus Snape, his lip curling in dissatisfaction.
"Don't close the door, Lupin. I'd rather not see this." Throwing him a look of pure loathing, Snape began to leave. "I would warn you, Lupin. Neville Longbottom's in this class. I wouldn't entrust him with anything too difficult – not unless Miss
Granger is whispering instructions in his ear." A horizontal crease some called a smile appeared on Snape's face and Remus arched an eyebrow.
"I was rather hoping Neville would assist me in the first stage of the operation, and
I'm sure he will perform admirably."
Snape swept out of the room without gracing Remus with an answer. He turned back to his class with a smile and beckoned them to the other end of the room.
Although he knew it shouldn't be, Remus' intention for the lesson was to make Harry laugh. He looked so much like his father – too much – and he couldn't resist but tempt a smile from that face just once more. He achieved his objective without too much trouble, and when Harry's face tilted to look at him, a great beam plastered on it,
Remus' stomach clenched, and he thought of the last time he'd been met with that smile.
Remus had been met with that smile. James' infamous, shit-eating grin. It had always meant trouble.
"Well," James announced, slamming his empty pint on to the table. "I'd best get home to the wife and kid. It was good seeing you two."
Remus was glad he'd agreed to meet James for a drink, even if Sirius was present. Peter hadn't been able to make it, and with concerned frowns, the three of them realised that nobody had seen him in weeks. However, this was quickly forgotten as they slipped back into their easy routine of good natured teasing.
Remus tensed as James left the Leaky Cauldron, realising he was now alone with Sirius. He stared at the scratched tabletop, and tried desperately to think of an excuse to leave without being untactful. Opposite him, Sirius ran a hand through his hair and heaved a heavy sigh.
"Listen. Can we talk? Back at your place?"
Raising his eyes in surprise, Remus settled Sirius with a scrutinising glare. On the one hand, it was a terrible idea. Sirius thought he was the traitor, giving into his instincts and distrusting Remus because of his lycanthropy. He had also chosen James over Remus; that much was clear. On the other, there was something odd about the way Sirius looked at him. He hadn't looked so broken, so desperate, since the sixth year prank. But back at his flat? The flat in which they had lived together for a year and a half, before Sirius decided a werewolf could never truly be trusted. Just as he opened his mouth to tell him to fuck off, he found himself saying, "OK."
Remus sat at his desk, doing his best to concentrate on the scrawled essays lying in front of him. But no matter how often he repeated to himself, pull yourself together, for God's sake, he could do nothing but stare listlessly at the wall facing his desk. It had been almost exactly thirteen years since he'd lost everything. Since he'd ruined everything.
If he hadn't let Sirius back to his flat… If he hadn't been drawn in with impressive statements and a gorgeous face… If he hadn't trusted so fully, so immediately…
"Harry?" Seeing the shock of black hair move past the open door of his office, Remus hurried to the door. "Why aren't you in Hogsmeade?"
If he hadn't allowed Sirius back that evening, perhaps this boy would still have parents.
"Would you like to come in?"
"Would you like to come in?" It was a ridiculous question. Of course Sirius wanted to come in; he'd invited himself over in the first place.
Sirius followed his ex into the dingy flat, but looked uncomfortable as he took in the room. Remus followed his gaze, and felt a blush creep up his neck. The flat was a mess; untidy piles of books were scattered around the room, a stain had since appeared on the carpet, and the sofa sagged conspicuously. Remus smiled uneasily.
"Cup of tea?"
"I'm – I'm sorry, Remus," Sirius said when Remus returned, clutching two mugs of tea. He was still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, and rather than acknowledge his apology, Remus gestured to the sofa.
In the pub, Remus hadn't drunk very much. No more than a pint of lukewarm beer.
Despite this, as he sat opposite Sirius, folding his legs beneath his body and watching him over the rim of his chipped mug, Remus felt warm and safe. He hadn't felt so content in a long time – since long before Sirius left. His eyes were full of apology, not suspicion, and Remus couldn't help but smile shyly. "What've you been up to, then?" he asked, taking a sip of his tea to quell his nerves.
"Uh." Sirius took a seat beside Remus, and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck guiltily. "Not much, really. Other than order missions, there doesn't seem to be much to do nowadays."
"Oh. Oh, I see." Remus did, in fact, see. He spent probably every other week on perilous missions for Dumbledore. But he already knew that was what Sirius did – he certainly remembered the dragging nights spent alone in the dark, wondering in what condition Sirius would come home, or if he would come home at all. What Remus wanted to know was what Sirius did in his spare time. Did he have a part time job? Did he still have the Sex Pistols playing as constant background music? Did he still spend time with the Potters? Did he have a new boyfriend?
"And you?"
Remus looked up and realised he'd been staring mindlessly at the floor. "Um, well, not much. Been trying to study a bit, you know, for after the war."
Sirius smiled fondly. "Do you still want to be a teacher?"
"Course. I'm hoping Dumbledore will take me on, but I'm not really sure. I don't have qualifications."
"You'll walk it. There's no way Dumbledore could turn someone down with a brain like yours, Moony." Realising the almost unintentional use of Remus' nickname, they both looked away quickly. Remus cleared his throat in an effort to fill the heavy silence that followed.
"Look, Remus." Sirius turned back to face him, and waited until Remus looked him in the eye.
"Yeah?"
"I just – I'm really sorry."
"Sirius, you don't have to apologise –"
"No, I do. I was…" He took a shaky breath, and ran a ragged hand through his hair.
"I was really frightened. I didn't know what to do. Someone was betraying us – someone who was close to James, and I-" He stood up suddenly, and began pacing the room. "You were spending so much time away, you know, and I just thought, if maybe he offered a cure-"
"That I'd betray my family for the chance to get better?" Remus finished quietly, studying the floorboards.
"Well-" Sirius paused in his walking and turned to Remus. "Yeah, I suppose. I'm sorry."
Remus sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. "Sit down, Sirius." The sofa sank with his weight, but Remus kept massaging his eyes. He could feel Sirius begin to fidget beside him. "By all rights, I should throw you out right now."
Sirius smiled apprehensively.
"But I won't." He pulled his hand away from his eyes. "I don't know why, but for some reason, I understand. I understand that James is your brother, and you'd be lost without him. I understand that you chose him over me. After all, he can offer you shelter, and a home. I could never offer you safety. Not with my – "
"Don't say lycanthropy."
Remus narrowed his eyes threateningly, warning Sirius not to step over the mark.
"But that's why."
"It's not. I mean – "
Remus scoffed.
"I mean, it is. But I'm… Sorry. I'm just sorry."
"OK," Remus said, resigned. "OK, you're sorry. Now what?"
Sirius shrugged. "How've you been?"
Despite himself, Remus found the two of them slipping into easy conversation. He enjoyed listening to Sirius' passion, throwing his arms around and pulling faces to emphasise his points. He enjoyed watching Sirius throw his head back in laughter at a dry comment, shaking his hair out of his face. He enjoyed admiring Sirius' lips form the delicate and aristocratic words.
They sat late into the night, swapping stories and reminiscing. On several occasions,
Remus thought they were going to kiss, but he didn't know where it would leave him if they did, so he would pull back at the last moment. Eventually, when the sky had long since darkened and the world had fallen into silence, Sirius glanced at his watch and, with an exaggerated sigh, said that he should probably go home. It was getting late.
At the door, Sirius opened his arms as if to hug Remus, but Remus stepped back and smiled. "Bye, Sirius." He could have sworn Sirius' expression was crestfallen as he closed the door.
Remus collapsed on to the creaking bed, curling up in to a ball and squeezing his eyes together. He was eternally grateful for the invention of Wolfsbane – the transformation was almost painless, allowing Remus to sleep through the whole thing
- but the wolf still took its toll on his body, which had been aching all day.
If he breathed in very deeply, Remus could almost imagine the mouth watering aroma of the Halloween feast. The moon had risen earlier that evening, and there was no time for anything other than an unbuttered sandwich before he hurried out to the Shrieking Shack. His stomach rumbled, and he wished Damocles had had the good thought to brew a sleeping draught to go with the potion. No matter how exhausted
Remus felt, his mind still prepared for the pain of transformation, and Remus struggled to find sleep anyway.
He turned on to his back and stared at the cracked ceiling. It had been years since the last time the Marauders had shared a feast together, and Remus tried desperately to recall the memory. Since the War, he had developed a habit of reading whenever he thought of his old friends, to distract himself. Being at Hogwarts, however, meant that he had to deal with a constant onslaught of memories, so he tried to make them good ones at least – usually without much success.
When Remus eventually slept, he was met with the traumatising memories he still couldn't understand.
When Remus initially awoke, he couldn't understand why he felt so content. The watery sunshine hit his eyelids and he had to rely on the help of his wrists to force them open. He took a moment to stare at his stained wall and remember the night before. Unexpectedly, he didn't regret talking to his ex-boyfriend who had accused him of betraying his closest friends. Instead, a warm feeling had settled in his chest, and remained as he dragged himself out of bed.
He was leaning on the kitchen counter, waiting for the kettle to boil when the doorbell rang. He walked leisurely to the door, without thinking to check who it was first.
"Remus, can I come inside?" It was Dumbledore.
Frowning slightly, Remus let him in. It was odd for Dumbledore to appear unannounced. He, out of all people, should follow the safety rules. He wrote them, after all.
Remus stood with his arms crossed at the door. Dumbledore didn't sit down. He turned to look at the young man and, for a moment, Remus thought his eyes were shining with unspilled tears. "Remus, it's the Potters."
A/N: This was inspired by a Tumblr post, but I can't for the life of me find it. If anyone recognises it, let me know and I'll link it. Anyway, leave a review!