A/N: An AU in which Remus survived the attack in Hogwarts.

Summary: Living doesn't mean a thing to him without Sirius.

It's been two months, and there's a war the Ministry refuses to acknowledge; Harry is stuck in the Muggle world; and he is absolutely miserable.

He spends his days doing as Dumbledore directs him to do, and remembering Sirius-beautiful, perfect Sirius. He remembers the day Sirius found his pensieve; he remembers the accusing way he'd stared at him; he remembers the hurt in Sirius' expressive eyes; he remembers the tears they'd both denied; he remembers Sirius' soft, sweet touches; he remembers everything.

He remembers Sirius' lips as he's leaning into the wall, a man whose name he doesn't remember trying to kiss him; but he turns his face away, exposes his throat (to a werewolf; you stupid, stupid man), he remembers the promises (Forever, I'll love you forever), and he remembers the ways Sirius' hands had seemed to burn him to the core with their soul searing touches; and though he will give himself over, bodily, to other men, and women; never will he give his heart and soul (or kisses) to them.

Those he reserves for Sirius (for all of eternity).

It's been two months and he hasn't let himself cry; it's been two months and he doesn't remember who he is, who he was; but he remembers Sirius (and their love); he'll always (eternity) remember Sirius.

It's been six months, and Nymphadora has suddenly taken an interest in him. He doesn't understand it, and he doesn't intend to try; and though he'd usually just let one pull him down, further, into his self loathing; with touches and whispered words of false comfort, he can only push her away; he could never do that to one he cares about; never would he betray Sirius' trust by hurting his little cousin.

She's very persistent though, and he takes to avoiding her; he's receiving scoldings from other members; mostly Molly, but he doesn't care. They don't; can't; won't understand.

She keeps cornering him, and taking his hand, telling him that he needs to understand how much she loves him, and can't he just see that she could make him happy? (But he promised Sirius his eternity). She tries to kiss him, and he finally pulls away, pointedly asking her to leave.

He knows he should feel bad when she starts to cry, but he doesn't. He knows he should comfort her when she continues whispering little words of love; but he can't. He knows he should look at her when she collapses into him sobbing against his chest, and wrapping his jumper around her hands; but he won't.

She's in love with him, she sobs; he remains silent. Can't he try? She begs; he shudders. Will he look at her? She pleads; he can, but he doesn't. Is this about Sirius? Her tone is caught between horror and confusion, and he closes his eyes and pretends he doesn't feel the cool, cool tear sliding down his cheek. He and I weren't a couple, she says reassuringly, and he is disgusted with her now; he pushes her away and begs her to leave, asking what, just what it will take for her to listen to him? Can't she see he's not in the mood to be played with?

She flees his room, scared of the anger he'd displayed (and perhaps a bit afraid of the dangerous beast he hides deep inside; attracted to it too), and he hears her sobs echoing through the empty halls of Grimmauld place, and he falls into his bed, and presses his face into a pillow that still smells of Sirius, and he pretends he's just going to sleep; but all he can do is cry, and cry.

Until he can cry no more; and he feels he is a bit more resigned; his anger will not display it's self to Tonks again; and all will be well.

But it isn't.

It's been a year since Sirius died; and Remus is sure he's died too. He sits in his flat in London, and remembers a time he and Sirius shared a flat; he remembers a night Sirius brought him flowers, and kissed him; he remembers all of the pleasant days, tucked away between the war, that followed; and he remembers a night Sirius went out to see James on Halloween; and never returned.

He remembers Dumbledore knocking on his door and telling him Voldemort had been defeated. By Harry Potter. James, Lily and Peter were dead. He remembers begging, and falling to his knees, his hands over his eyes, for Dumbledore not to tell him Sirius is dead; that Sirius is gone too.

Dumbledore didn't tell him. He'd stroked his hair, and walked him to the couch. Served him tea (in his own flat) and sat silently until his whimpering, choking sobs had subsided. He remembers a tear rolling out of Dumbledore's eye as they sat staring at each other. He remembers the words coming from his mouth before he could stop himself (He was the spy, wasn't he?) he remembers Dumbledore's head bowing, a slight jerky nod.

And he'd dissolved into tears again.

It's been a year, and twelve days since Sirius died. They tell him Bill Weasley has been attacked by Fenrir Greyback; he feels as if their stares are accusing. As if they blame him, somehow.

Harry tells him Dumbledore is dead; and Remus sees his life hitting the stone floor of the infirmary and shattering.

And like wolves they are see that he is weak; and Tonks is pushing herself against him, intruding on his sorrow, his despair; his memories; and they're all telling him he's wrong (Eternity is the past; Sirius is dead; he wouldn't be lying; he needs to let go; Things aren't the way the used to be). She takes his silence as surrender.

She stays the night with him; but she, unlike Sirius, doesn't wake up when he rolls away; she, unlike Sirius, doesn't hear him sit beside the bed; she, unlike Sirius, doesn't hear his whimpering cries, his choked, and ragged breathing; she, unlike Sirius, is just there, but not there at all.

He's sure he's died.

He'd been sad when he'd learned that Tonks was pregnant. He'd been horrified; what if the baby came out like him? (What would Sirius think of his betrayal?)

But Teddy is perfect. Perfect in every way; every hair on his head (no matter the colour), the softness of his skin, the sweet sound of his voice; and for the first time Remus believes he may be happy with Tonks.

But the euphoria passes; and Tonks is just Tonks; and Sirius is still his eternity.

It's almost been two years the day the second war ends (May 2, it would only take one month, sixteen days for it to have been two years), some how he meets them in the fray of it all, and they tell him that Tonks is dead. He doesn't know how to speak for a moment; and then he realizes, though sad this is nothing like the crushing despair that had filled him when he'd seen Sirius die; he tells himself it would hurt more if he'd actually seen Tonks die.

He knows he's lying.

One month, sixteen days later he finds himself face down in his bed, thinking of Tonks, and Sirius; but most of all Teddy, whose cries have just woken him from a very deep sleep, and he yawns as he climbs out of bed, unable to keep hold of a dream that's tearing at his subconscious.

He'll change, and feed Teddy, and then they'll go down to his library together, and he'll read books of dark magic; books of secrets that never should have left Number Twelve Grimmauld place; and he'll search for hope among the heavy pages of the books Sirius never would have approved of him reading; and he'll try to find a spell to hide his despair, and he tries with everything in him not to think of how disappointed Sirius will be in him.

Teddy is turning four, and Harry is there, with Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Molly and Arthur. He's laughing, and Harry's son, such a cute little thing, as Harry himself was, isn't even one, and he's trying to sing with them; and Remus thinks he's happy, but there's something buried inside that's squirming, and he can't quite identify it.

Hermione and he adjourn to the library after cake, and he gives her a stack of books, laughing at her excitement, and after she leaves he turns back toward the shelf, and he thinks he hears a soft whispering, but as he takes a step forward, Teddy tuns into the room, laughing, and he assumes it was his son.

Teddy is eight when he finally admits it; he's still not over Sirius, and he doesn't know how Ginny, and Hermione ever found out about the two of them (his mind goes to his pensieve that brought him and Sirius back together; but he keeps it locked up, scared how Teddy would react should he see it). But he finds himself telling them; Yes, he and I were lovers. But he doesn't tell them that he and Sirius promised each other Forever; they would simply think he meant 'til death do us part'; but forever is forever, and he is a traitor, and a liar.

His heat is in his throat as he speaks to them; and his eyes are watering with his words, but he doesn't cry; and he realizes that this pain isn't ever going to stop (had never gone away, merely been ignored), and he looks to the floor, and the both hug him; and he thinks of Lily as he buries his face in Hermione's hair (and he'll never tell Harry, but he'd have preferred the boy marry Hermione; though he knows Harry couldn't have stopped Hermione from loving Ron. True love, he thinks, is the strongest bewitchment there ever was).

Three years later he's standing on the platform of King's cross, waving at Teddy, and he feels awkward, and so, so very alone. On the way home he almost buys a dog, but changes his mind, realizing not all, or any dogs, are like Padfoot.

When he gets home he goes straight to his room, and drags a trunk out of his closet, he opens it slowly, sitting on the floor beside it, and with trembling fingers pulls one of Sirius' robes from the trunk, and buries his face in the folds, and inhales deeply; it no longer smells of Sirius, but he can remember Sirius' scent so well that he doesn't need the robes.

It has been twelve years since Sirius has died (been murdered), and he can remember everything. He hasn't cried since the day Tonks had cornered him after Dumbledore's death; and he doesn't cry now. But he stays where he is, with his face pressed into the robes, and he doesn't move for hours; he moves only when the cramps in his muscles get too painful to ignore, and he rises with a whimper that has nothing to do with the pain in his legs.

He stands with the robes in his hands for several moments before carefully, and slowly hanging them in the closet among his own robes; and it looks so right; so perfect; that the longing for Sirius increases tenfold, and he whimpers.

On impulse he hangs the rest of Sirius' robes in his closet, among his own, and then crawls in bed, and lays down, and lays awake until morning, and gets up, only to lay back down when he realizes Teddy doesn't need him anymore; because Teddy isn't here.

He's alone.

Teddy is fourteen when he finally found the book he'd known would exist; with a spell that seemed to have serious drawbacks to using it; but he didn't care what happened. He would do what ever it took to get Sirius back; he'd always known that.

(Forever ever after).

He preforms the spell (it takes Love, it says; strong real, true love; it takes blood; it takes magic, wandless magic, magic in it's purest forms; it takes desire; want; need; it takes a cherished item of the other persons (and Remus has only himself to offer, for he knows not what else Sirius treasured); nor cherished; it takes everything in him) when Teddy is at school. And it doesn't do anything.

He walks away from the casting circle feeling despair deep down into his bones. And then, when he least expects it; taking a glass from the cupboard, a strange sensation washes over him, and he doubles over in pain; screaming in agony as he feels something being torn from him.

It takes him several moments to realize he is losing what little bit of Sirius he had left; and then, and only then, does he realize the implications of the spell.

He gets up and runs to the library, and grabs the book, before heading to his room. He's trembling, and he puts the book in the trunk in the bottom of his closet, and sits in the armchair in the corner. He can't stop shaking; and he's sure, for a moment, that he feels warmth pressing against his neck, a soft nuzzling sensation.

And he closes his eyes.

He won't be alone much longer.

Two years. Teddy is sixteen; and he himself is infinitely older. Older, much older, then when he'd preformed the forbidden spell. And he's sitting in the library, reading a book, thinking about what he and Teddy are going to do in the summer; who they'll see. When there's a sort of pull in him, and he blinks, eyes watering from the surge of electric going through him.

There's a sort of crackle in the air, and he looks up; when he sees Sirius standing there he is sure he's gone mad; or fallen asleep. But he stands anyway, taking a few trembling steps toward Sirius-beautiful; perfect; and naked as the day he was born, Sirius.

The name comes off of his lips like a prayer, and he knows; He is alive.

"Sirius."