Disclaimer: Much as I love Remus and Sirius, Harry Potter &Co are not mine. It's all Jo's, I'm just playing with it.


Together Again
Part I: Forever at Your Service
Remus sighed, trudging down the corridor to the Gryffindor common room. "Crup tail," he said to the Fat Lady before climbing through the portrait hole. He was returning from Ancient Runes, his last class of the day and one that none of his best friends were taking. Even if one of the others had been there, it most likely would have been a rather awkward situation, and Remus found himself glad for the peace and quiet. He paused for a moment at the foot of the stairs to the boys' dormitory. There was something seriously wrong when a Marauder was more comfortable alone than with the others.

"Well, there's something Siriusly wrong, all right," the werewolf muttered ruefully to himself as he started climbing the many steps. Last weekend had been the full moon, and as usual, Remus had trekked down to the Shrieking Shack during sunset, steeling himself for his transformation. However, that transformation had been anything but usual, though he hadn't fully realized this until afterwards. Memories of his transformations were buried in deep recesses of his mind that he didn't like to visit much, but after hearing Peter's quiet explanation of what Sirius had done, images had bubbled to the surface all at once, uninvited. Snape, emerging cautiously but excitedly from the Whomping Willow tunnel—James, appearing seconds later, out of breath from his long, anxious sprint, but nonetheless dragging a horrified Snape away from the shack at top speed—himself, growling after them and snapping at their heels until they disappeared up the tunnel…

Remus's stomach turned all over again as he reached the top of the staircase. He had barely spoken to Sirius since that day. In the hospital wing, Sirius had tried brokenly to apologize, his pallid face showing clearly that he knew his words were inadequate. Remus, heartbroken, had turned away, blinking tears from his eyes and clutching the bedcovers with white-knuckled fingers. Though normally slow to be provoked and fast to forgive, Remus had rejected apology.

Now he reached his dormitory and strode across the empty room, then began to empty his book bag with slightly shaking hands. Though his tears had dried long ago, it was still hard to keep the emotions from overflowing: the anguish of betrayal by his best friend, who had, not so many years ago, taught him to trust; the fury at him for doing something so unspeakable; the overwhelming fear of what the wolf could have done to Snape, and dread of the potential consequences, ranging from expulsion to imprisonment to death… none of the feelings had died. Remus had not felt so lonely in years. To cap it all, James and Peter had been having a nightmare of it that week, trying not to be on anyone's side but also attempting to console both parties. Neither Moony nor Padfoot had the heart to be angry with their other friends for their occasionally clumsy handling of awkward situations; besides, there was really nothing to be mad at them about, anyway. But the two had maintained a tense, sad silence between themselves.

Sighing again, Remus finished organizing his books and flopped down on his bed for a moment, deciding to rest just a bit before starting his homework. Soon James or Peter would return as well, and they could go to dinner together, but while he waited he may as well start tackling that Arithmancy… Then Remus blinked, hearing a papery rustle beneath him and feeling something not quite as soft as his quilt against the small of his back. Sitting up, he found a foot-long piece of parchment folded in threes, with his name scrawled on it in handwriting he would have recognized anywhere. His eyes widened, his heartbeat rapidly speeding up, and he opened it immediately, swinging his legs back over the side of the bed before reading it.

Remus,

I am rather terrified that you will tear this up and throw it away as soon as look at it, as you are well within your rights to do so. I just can't take not saying anything anymore. Another of my horrible shortcomings—impatience. But I need to apologize properly, and I guess I'm too cowardly to do it to your face. It's too hard to see your expression when I bring up what happened… Of course, I deserve any bad feelings you have for me now. I deserve your anger, your disgust, your rage… What I can't stand about that look is the sadness, because you don't deserve that. I deserve whatever you throw at me, and I'll take it, but it's hard to face you and see what I've done to you. I certainly don't deserve the power to do that to you. I've always thought you're a much kinder, nicer, and generally more worthy being than I am. In a subtle way, you've always been the bravest of us all. There are very few people who could take lycanthropy the way you do. You once told me that you'd never, ever wish this on anyone, not even your worst enemy. I believed it, and I still believe it. I really admired you then, because I know I would wish that on people. Even now, when I'm not the one who actually has to live it, I wish it on people—which is the worst thing I've done to date, because I have no right to wish the pain of my friend on others. Somewhere in the back of this stupid head of mine, when I was telling Snape those things, I knew… I knew that if he didn't get killed, he would at least be bitten. God, I don't know which one would torture you worse. But whatever happened, that was unspeakably horrible of me. I still ask myself why I did it, every waking moment I ask myself that, and obviously, there would never, ever be a good reason. Whatever Dark curses he put on James and Peter the other day are such feeble excuses, I would laugh at myself if it weren't so terribly serious. If you were the kind of person who would wish it on Snape, then it would have been a tiny bit less horrible, but there isn't even that shallow excuse—you're the kind of person who would torture yourself about it 'til the day you die, even though it would be completely, irrevocably, all my fault. You never had a choice. By the time you even knew what was happening, it would be too late; at that point, the damage would be done. You're one of my very best friends—or were, I don't deserve your friendship—how did I do this to you? I've never cried so much in my life, but I'm not the one who deserves to… If I write anymore, I'll be overstepping my boundaries. This is a mess of a letter already, and I'm not even sure I should send it. I'm not trying to plead my way into your good graces, I just think you deserve to know what's going on inside the head of the depraved idiot who did this. But that depraved idiot has already taken up more of your time than I deserve, so I'll just say it one more time, inadequate though these words are: I am terribly, terribly sorry.

Sincerely yours,
Sirius

Remus's hands shook openly now. He swallowed over the lump in his throat and forced himself to read it again. Halfway through the second reading, he heard footsteps entering the dormitory. He looked up, half hiding the note from view, to see a haggard-looking Sirius come through the door. Speak of the devil, he thought absently through the rush of thoughts clogging his mind. Their eyes met for a fleeting instant before they both looked away, unable to deal with each other's pain for a moment. An awkward silence settled over the room, as Sirius took three uneven, hesitant steps to his four-poster, where he began emptying his books onto his bed. His boots and the rustle of his bagsounded unnaturally loud in the quiet, and he had never looked in a sorrier state. Remus doubted that he'd washed properly or changed his robes in days, or that he'd eaten a good meal or gotten enough sleep. Not that Remus had been much better lately, at least as far as the food and sleep had gone… Looking back up at his friend, he took a deep, tremulous breath. "Sirius…"

Sirius's head snapped up as if startled that the other boy would want to speak to him. It was the first time Remus had said his name aloud in days… Sirius cleared his throat hesitantly, his gaze flickering from Remus's face to the parchment in his hands. "You… you got the letter, then…"

Remus nodded. "I've read it, too."A long, aching silence filled the room. This can't go on forever… I'm still angry with him, but I… It's so hard, but we need to talk… He glanced briefly at the in his lap. "Look, Sirius," he finally said, voice trembling ever so slightly as he lifted a hand in a small, almost beckoning gesture toward his friend. "I—"

Abruptly Sirius took two fast steps forward, simultaneously grabbing Remus's hand with both of his and falling to his knees beside the bed, eyes still on the other boy's face. "Remus—I'm so sorry—" he choked out. "I… I'm such abloody idiot, I am so sorry—"

Sirius bent his head and just knelt there, with his forehead barely above their intertwined fingers, breathing wracked. A tear slipped out and gradually streaked down his face. Remus, stunned into momentary speechlessness by this outburst, felt it drop onto his finger and continue to slide downward.

"Sirius," Remus finally pleaded in a low, soft tone. "I—I don't… I can't… Look at me, Sirius."

Sirius slowly lifted his head and met Remus's eyes. He flinched, squeezing his own eyes shut for a brief moment before he could squarely meet his old friend's gaze. "Remus—" He inhaled sharply. It was wrong for the name to feel so unfamiliar in his mouth. "I can't… that expression—"

"You need to see this," Remus broke in firmly, after taking a deep breath. "You need to see me, Sirius. I did read your letter—I know why it's hard for you—but you have to see. You know what you've done can't be undone. You know what could've happened. But you've barely looked at me all week—I know, because I've been watching how much you're in pain from this. But even if you're aware of it, you haven't really seen my pain."

"I know… I'm such a coward, I don't even deserve to be talking to you…"

"You probably don't," Remus cut in dryly, harshly. "For the same reasons you deserve the pain it causes." Remus winced internally to see Sirius hurt so, despite knowing that what he'd said was true. But he knew that this pain, more intense thanthe anxious, dreadful ache he'd been feeling all week, was the kind that came with eventual healing. These wounds would leave their scars, but they would heal. Over the growing lump in his throat, he said in a controlled voice, "You deserve what you've had these past few days."

Sirius swallowed visibly as a slight tremor escaped his lips. He pressed them into a firm line before replying softly, "I know it. I deserve all this pain and more. But you don't deserve any of this."

Remus laughed bitterly. "I wish I could feel the same way. Even if it was your fault, the things the wolf—that is, I could have done… I hate Severus so much sometimes, but I could never bear to see others bearing this burden."

Sirius's eyes were bright. It was excruciating to maintain eye contact now. "I swore I would do everything I could to make your burden lighter," he whispered. "We all swore—we've all tried to help you in every way we could—I've never broken a promise so badly before. Of all the people I could've betrayed—"

Remus, steel though his intentions had been, was the first to break eye contact. He couldn't take it anymore—he needed to think—where was this going? "Forgive and forget, they say," he murmured to himself. "I can never forget, but…"

"You should never forgive me," Sirius said, his voice audibly shaking again. His grip on Remus's hand tightened. "I don't even deserve James's forgiveness, but he's already given it—but he says it doesn't really matter until you forgive me. He's right, but I don't deserve that."

"Maybe. But I don't think I could live with myself." Remus swallowed, meeting Sirius's eyes again and searching them. In their haunted depths, he found his answer; his resolve steadied, and it showed in his voice. "It hurts, and I'm still angry with you, but it only hurts more to go through this without my best friends. Even knowing you're the cause—I dunno, maybe because of that—but in the end… you're the only one who can help—and I think… I love you guys too much. We've wallowed enough, and I'm getting tired of it. It would hurt too much not to forgive you."

Brief pause; wide, disbelieving eyes; and then—"Oh my God—you can't be serious—"

Remus smiled wanly. "You're Sirius."

Suddenly Sirius released his friend's hand, stood up, and practically tackled him, smothering the werewolf in one of the biggest hugs he had ever been given. "I told you you're a much kinder, worthier being than I am—and here you go proving it again—I don't deserve a friend like you—"

"Geroff me, Sirius, geez," came Remus's muffled reply. The relief was evident in his playful voice. Slowly, their pain was easing. "You're suffocating me."

"Sorry." Sirius rolled over so they were sitting next to each other on Remus's bed. "God, Remus… Thank you so much." Aching hope filled his eyes. He hardly dared to believe them. "You… you really mean this, don't you?"

Remus paused, staring into space, not sure what to say at first. "I… I'd never be your friend if you hadn't been a friend to me first. I never thought I'd have friends like you three. And… Once I finally got used to it, I never dared to think about whether something like this could happen. But we all have our faults, even if," he finally glanced at Sirius here, giving a wry smile, "some are rather more glaringly obvious than others."

Sirius, despite another evident pang of shame, nevertheless smiled crookedly. "Yeah, well, your faults are practically nonexistent, someone has to make up for it. But… you shouldn't have gotten hurt like this because of that… I really am sorry."

Remus was done with these repetitive apologies, genuine though they were. Already more of the ache was beginning to dissolve. "Enough. I don't want to go through this again—I'm forgiving you, and this is all we can do for now." He hesitated for an instant before going on here, not quite sure if the half-joking, half-true words on the tip of his tongue were appropriate. "Without all of you guys, how would I deal with Snape now that he knows for sure?" he asked quietly.

Sirius winced a bit at Snape's name, but half-smiled nonetheless as he replied softly. "Obviously there are better ways of handling him. I can't believe you'd trust me to think of them."

Remus's eyes were pained briefly, but he smiled comfortingly. "After this, I think you know the bounds of your creativity. I'll be counting on you to do just that."

With a bark-like laugh, Sirius draped his arm around his friend's shoulder. "Forever at your service, Remus."

They would be all right.


Author's Notes: Even though this stands perfectly well on its own, this is the first (and much longer) part of a two-shot - the next part is just a little over a page in MS Word and brings in the other Marauders. It will be up soon (I promise!). That part has cooperated much better with me; this one has gone through rough original writing, expansion, careful rewriting, a (thankfully brief) period where I hated it, andloads of revision. And all this started three months ago on spring break? -laughs- I just don't really think the letter idea is all that plausible anymore, and looking back, even after all the rewriting it's gone through, I still wonder if their conversation is too dramatic... But I do like it, nonetheless, and I figure at least one person out there will too. Please tell me what you think! And I hope you'll look out for the next part as well.

Laura

P.S. My apologies for any random spaces between words that QuickEdit has removed. -grumbles- After the number of times I've already reread this thing, it would just be too painful to read through it carefullyfor the umpteenth time to fix that moronic device's mistakes.