Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Choices We Make

Remus bolted upright in the darkness, his heart pounding. There were tears on his scarred face, mingling with the sweat. With a shaking hand he wiped his ashen face with his frayed pajama sleeve. It was just past three a.m. He could still feel Sirius beside him.

It had taken Remus years to learn to sleep without him. Sighing heavily, Remus pushed the blankets aside and got to his feet. There was no way he would be getting to sleep anytime soon. Thankfully tomorrow was the last day of exams. He hoped his third years liked the obstacle course he had planned for them.

Still, as much as Remus loved being back at Hogwarts, he was looking forward to being back home. Home. Even after Sirius ran away from Grimmauld Place, the idea of leaving London was unthinkable. London was home. Cassie was the same way and it seemed Alexis would take after his father in that respect.

For Remus however, London was home because Sirius was there. After Hogwarts, living with Sirius in that cramped little flat was the first home Remus had ever had. And it was where he'd been the happiest. Remus rested his forehead against the cool windowpane and stared out at the moonlit grounds. Even now, back at Hogwarts, he still couldn't get his mind off Sirius.

Guilt like no other washed over Remus whenever he thought of Sirius, his best friend and lover. Knowing he still loved a murderer. But there was still a part of him that refused to accept Sirius was in fact a murderer. How could the man he loved so much do something so terrible? Had Sirius ever really loved him?

Strong arms encircled his scarred neck and pulled him close. Sirius's silken raven hair tickled his cheek and smelled of shampoo and cigarettes. "I love you," Sirius whispered in his ear. "I love you so much."Yes, yes, Sirius had loved him; Remus could hear it in his voice every time he said it.

How could he just let that love go? That friendship? There was a time, however, in their sixth year when Remus thought that friendship was over. After the incident with Snape and the willow, Remus had been so angry, so broken hearted that he didn't speak to Sirius for two months. Of all the Marauders he had always been closest to Sirius and his betrayal had hurt like nothing else.

But Sirius had refused to let their friendship die without a fight and took to following Remus around like a puppy, begging for forgiveness. Remus had been too angry to listen and one evening, enraged, he hit Sirius across the face as hard as he could, screaming at him to shut up and leave him alone. The second he did it, Remus would have given anything to take it back and even all these years later he still felt terrible guilt at the memory of his actions. Remus had braced himself for Sirius's anger, to be struck in return because he deserved nothing less. But nothing could have prepared him for what happened next.

There was no anger on Sirius's face nor was there shock, just a mixture of sorrow and guilt. Sirius closed the gap between them and looped his trembling arms around Remus's scarred neck, weeping into the Lycan's shoulder as if he didn't know how to do it properly, and apologizing frantically and begging forgiveness. Remus had never seen Sirius cry, not once in all the years they had known each other and the sight broke his heart. But it also showed Remus that truly sorry for what he had done.

He would think about his mistake, regret it for the rest of his life. The love Remus had for his friend overcame the anger he was feeling. In the end, the choice was simple. "Shh, it's all right," Remus hushed, closing his arms around the stricken boy. He ran his fingers through the animagus's silken raven hair.

"I forgive you." Remus may have forgiven him but Sirius never forgave himself for what he had done. Years later, after they'd left Hogwarts and even after they'd gotten together, there were nights when Sirius would jerk awake in the darkness, haunted by nightmares of what he had done. "I'm sorry," Sirius would whisper brokenly, drawing Remus into his arms and holding him close. "I'm so sorry."

"Shh, it's all right," Remus would sooth, hugging Sirius close. "I forgive you." Remus loved him, had loved him from the moment they met. And Remus would have given anything to have Sirius with him now, to be able to hold him in his arms. Love wasn't like a switch you could turn off at anytime you wanted.

Neither was trust. Remus trusted Sirius. It wasn't rational; it was heart speaking louder than mind. He had always unequivocally trusted and loved Sirius. Nothing had changed since then.

In the end, the choice was simple.


After her brother was arrested, someone asked Cassie how she slept at night knowing that monster was her flesh and blood. Cassie had replied the same way she would reply each time she was asked the question in the twelve years since that first inquiry. "I don't." And that was the truth; Cassie hadn't slept through the night in over a decade. When she'd been hospitalized in December of 1981, the Muggle doctors gave her pills for insomnia.

Cassie dumped the whole bottle down the drain without ever taking a single pill. And so, every night, just before dawn, Cassie got out of bed and sat cross-legged in front of the altar in her living room. She sat that there and thought about the spirits. When she was younger, they seemed a nameless benevolent force floating over her. But over the years, they had taken more familiar forms: Gideon and Fabian, Marlene and her husband Michael, Edgar, Uncle Alphard, classmates from both sides of the war, Peter, Benjy, Caradoc, Dorcas, Lily and James, Caprica and of course Regulus.

Regulus was only eighteen years old. Lily and James and been twenty-one. Caprica had been just twenty-four. Sirius would be thirty-four on Litha. Help me, Cassie prayed. Goddess please help.

For twelve agonizing years Cassie felt as if she were living on burrowed time. And now it felt as if that time was running out. I can't lose Sirius; please he's all I have left. It was then, out of the corner of her eye that she saw Salazar and frowned slightly. What on earth was that cat doing?

The massive white cat was crouched down low, pawing at something beneath the television stand. Was it a mouse? Gods knew it would be the first time; the bloody building had been here since the Second World War. Sighing, Cassie got slowly to her feet only to sit on the floor once more where the cat was. Salazar stared up at her and mewed, blinking his mismatched blue and yellow eyes.

Smiling faintly and shaking her head, Cassie leaned down to see what he was so fixated on. It was no mouse. Puzzled, she withdrew her wand and pointing it beneath the television stand. "Accio paper!" The badly wrinkled paper zipped into her waiting hand.

It was an old copy of the Daily Prophet that must have fallen back there when Cassie was cleaning. She could vaguely recall Alexis showing it to her last summer. Summer, Gods that seemed like a lifetime ago. But why had he shown it to her in the first place? Oh yes, she remembered now.

It was something about a classmate's father that had won the Scoops Grand Prize. . . .