***

When Remus opened his eyes again he could see red and gold dancing before his eyes.

At first he thought he was in the Gryffindor common room, but as he opened his eyes further he recognized it as the plumage of Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix.

He could feel a soft hand stroking his arm as he sat up slowly.

"Remus, how are you feeling?" Selma asked.

"My head hurts." Remus said trying to make his tone light. It failed.

"Drink this," she said, pushing a goblet into Remus's hands.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Just drinks it for god's sake, Remus." She said exasperated. "It'll make you feel better."

Remus pushed the goblet to his mouth and tilted it up until he felt the potion quickly pass his lips and flow down his throat. He gulped in surprise and gagged as he tasted the pepper explode in his mouth. The room came into sharper focus and his head cleared.

"Urgh," Remus spat, handing the goblet back to Selma and wiping his mouth on his sleeve before remembering the robes were just on loan and trying to clean away the stain away. "Where did you get that?"

"Severus Snape made it up for you," She said, putting the goblet down on the floor.

"You let me drink something that bastard made?" Remus scolded, but was greeted with a severe look from Selma.

"As much of a bastard you may think he is, he's not all bad you know."

"You heard what he said earlier." Remus elaborated.

"Do you feel better?" Selma demanded.

"Well, yes," Remus realized, "but that doesn't..."

"Then shut up and be thankful he was here." She said curtly not willing to take any more of his nonsense.

She stood up from her position on the floor in front of him and put the goblet on the table. How could she be so composed Remus thought? He was falling apart - but then she had only been Sirius's cousin. She hadn't shared a room with him for seven years in school. She hadn't lived with him in a home they had made together. She had never shared his bed like Remus had.

Remus had been betrayed so much more deeply then Selma had, but it was she who would live with the noticeable stain on her name. A few years will pass and people would forget who Remus Lupin was. They would forget that there were four boys in the friendship. They would only remember Pettigrew, Potter and Black; the two who had died and the one who had betrayed them. Everyone would remember Sirius Black.

"Did Dumbledore bring us up here?" Remus asked.

"Not exactly," Selma said with a small smile. "Over the years I've become quite... acquainted with this office. It seems Dumbledore trusted me enough to be able to get you here on my own."

Remus laughed at this, almost commenting that Sirius would be proud, but bit it back just in time.

"I didn't mean to get angry. It's just been building up I guess." Remus apologized.

"Don't worry about it," Selma shrugged. "There are two rules to funerals in my family. There has to be at least one fight... and you have to get rip roaring drunk."

With that she pulled a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky from under her robes.

"Where did you get that?" Remus asked surprised.

A smile played on Selma's lips. She placed the bottle onto the table and summoned two glasses from the other side of the room.

"I believe the answer to that lies behind the statue of a hump-backed witch on the third floor."

"I don't believe it," Remus laughed as she poured the liquid into a glass and handed it to him. "When Dumbledore said you were promising I had no idea he meant this!"

He tried knocking back the whiskey as Selma poured one for herself, but it was so strong that he felt himself almost cough mid-gulp. He managed to swallow the rest of the mouthful before feeling tears of shock rising to his eyes.

"Dumbledore said that?" she asked and Remus nodded through stinging eyes. "Hmm," she mused knocking her own drink back easily, "I always knew the old guy had a marble or two rolling around."

Even as she said it Remus knew Selma had a lot of respect for the old wizard. She reached her hand out, and before Remus could protest had handed him another glass of Firewhisky.

"A toast," she said raising her glass, "to a promising witch." She knocked back the second glass and started pouring a third.

"Don't you think you should slow down?" Remus asked concerned.

"Don't worry," she said, shrugging off his concern. "I can always do a Sobering Charm on myself... Besides, it's the end of an era, right?! I'll have to behave myself from now on. Can't have anyone thinking I'm on the wrong side..." she knocked back her glass and filled it again. " 'Just like her cousin' they'll say. 'Black by name and Black by nature.' " She knocked back the fourth glass, resentfully.

Remus stood and stopped her hand from picking up the bottle again.

"I don't think so!" he said but she slapped his hand away and poured more liquid into her glass.

"Don't tell me what to do, Remus," she said bitterly. "Not when you believe them, not when you think he did it! You of all people! You should know what he's capable of... and this... not Sirius!" she turned her head down, "not Sirius." He knew there were tears this time.

"Have you talked to anyone about this?" he asked, taking the glass from her hand. She was angry but it was anger from grief; anger at loosing her 'brother.'

"Who can I talk to Remus?" she pleaded. "You are the only one who really knew him and you believe him guilty. Everyone believes he is a murderer." She slumped into one of the large chairs that dotted the office. Old headmasters looked down at her defeated form and shook their heads in sadness; even they felt sympathy for this young girl they had come to recognize over the years. "I know he used to get angry, but that wasn't the real Sirius. He was caring and funny and protective. He wouldn't harm anyone, not deliberately."

Remus knelt in front of her and looked up into her eyes.

"What about Snape?" Remus asked quietly. She was one of the few who knew about his condition. Who knew what had happened. She looked at him and raised her eyes demandingly.

"What about Snape?!" she countered, "One stupid mistake does not make him a murderer!"

"No," Remus replied in a saddened tone, "It would have made me one!"

She stared at him for the longest time, trying to feel the pain that Remus had gone through over the years. She knew that his friends had given him the only release from that pain.

"He didn't mean to," she said, pleading the case of a cousin she loved dearly.

"I know."

"He felt awful about what he'd done."

"I know." Remus stared up into her troubled eyes, tormented by a grief he knew she could never let go of.

Her face crumbled and her head fell into her hands. Under her robes Remus could see the shackled sobs ripping through her shoulders. Her pain would never be eased. She would live a lifetime of it and never feel any kind of release.

Remus moved forward and wrapped his arms around her. He rocked her in his embrace, trying to soothe her tears. It would come in time, he thought, the ability to hide her emotions better. But right now she needed to cry. She needed to let go of this early pain. He was the only one who could possibly understand and he was glad to help her through it.

When Selma moved out of Remus's arms, her eyes were red and troubled but the anger had died down to a dwindling glow. She sat back against the chair, her movements a little unsure.

"Thanks," she said. She was fiddling with her hands, not able to look up at Remus.

So much like him, Remus thought, but then nothing like him at all.

A noise from outside the door indicated that they were about to be joined by a third.

The door opened and Professor Dumbledore entered the room. His eyes flicked from Remus to Selma and back again.

"Remus," he said, "I hope you are feeling better."

"Yes, Professor," Remus answered, a little self-conscious by his earlier behaviour, though Professor Dumbledore hardly seemed to register the occurrence on his face.

"Splendid, I was hoping you could stay for a moment. There is a matter I wish to discuss with you."

Remus nodded yes and Dumbledore turned his gaze to Selma.

Her eyes were red and swollen, and as much as she swiped at them to hide the tears, it was obvious she had been crying for some time.

"Miss Black," Dumbledore said as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, "Would you like to stay a while longer before returning to your common room?" He asked kindly. "A game of chess perhaps?" he said indicating his set in the corner.

"No, Professor," she answered as she stood up, "Maybe next time."

"If you ever need to talk," Dumbledore offered, "you just get into some trouble." He smiled genially at the girl.

"Yes, Professor," she answered before making her way to the door.

Dumbledore turned to take a seat at his table but quickly turned again.

"Miss Black," he called and Selma turned to greet his gaze, "I believe you have forgotten something." He moved slightly and Remus saw the half empty bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky sitting on the table.

"Ah," Selma said in a surprised tone, "yes..." she summoned the bottle towards her with a flick of her wand. "Sorry, Professor."

"No harm done," he said. "But may I suggest that you stick to Butterbeer in the future? If not, Madam Pomfrey will begin to fuss over the number of Pepperup Potions she has to administer in a morning."

"Yes, Professor," Selma agreed.

With a simple nod of the head he indicated it was okay for her to go and the headmaster took his place behind his desk.

"As I said, a promising student," he told Remus. "Though a bit mischievous."

Remus smiled acquiescently as Dumbledore settled himself into his chair. It had been good to see Selma today, circumstance aside. He cared about the girl, and now realized for the first time that he may never have a reason to see her again.

"I was wondering," Dumbledore asked once he was comfortable, "when you planned on visiting Azkaban?"

He said it as simply as if he was asking Remus to go to a Weird Sisters concert.

"What?" Remus exclaimed. "What makes you think I want to go there at all?"

"It is my understanding that many people visits friends or family at least once after they have been sentenced," Dumbledore said grimly, "I think it would be better to go soon, while Sirius still has him mind."

Remus stared at his old headmaster in shock; surely he did not expect Remus to tag along on some sort of day trip.

"Remus, I think it is something you need to do."

"NO!" Remus shouted, "I'm not going there to see him. I'd be betraying my friends. My real friends." He added seeing the look on Dumbledore's face.

"Do you not think your allegiance should be to those you could still help, rather than the souls who have passed on?" Dumbledore questioned heavily.

"He can't be helped!" Remus countered. "Look at what he has done for god's sake; surely even you can see that!"

"I believe he is at least allowed the right of a trial," Dumbledore argued, "and if Bartemius Crouch will not provide him one legally then perhaps he can tell you what happened."

"You think he wouldn't lie to me?" Remus asked scornfully, "He has lied to me for years, Professor. He used me... got me on his side so I wouldn't question his actions, told me he cared so I would believe him. I can't believe anything he ever told me now; our whole relationship was a lie from the start." Remus took a moment to compose himself, his breathing was laboured and his face flushed. "Don't ask me to feel compassion for him on the same day I buried my closest friends. I can't feel that for him anymore."

"Do you love him?" Dumbledore asked.

"No!" Remus said forcefully.

Dumbledore took a saddened breath and looked up at Remus again.

"Did you love him?" Dumbledore asked, and this time his voice was slow and careful. It forced Remus to think about the question. The first time they had kissed, the first time they had made love. Moving into The Den. Even the day Harry was born. Remus smiled briefly in spite of himself. He drew his hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stop the memories.

"Once," he said softly, "I did."

Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair and laced his fingers together.

"Then I think you owe it to him, Remus. You owe him a fair trial." Dumbledore sat back in his chair. "I shall arrange the visit for as soon as possible. I do hope you at least find some sort of relief from it, if nothing else."

Remus sat looking at the Professor, who had started writing a letter to The Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He didn't know how the old wizard had done it, but Remus had just agreed to go to the one place he had hoped to never to see in his lifetime.

After a few minutes, Remus stood and excused himself. He made his way down the spiral staircase and through the second floor corridor. With each step he was reminded of the years he had spent in the hallways of Hogwarts. Rooms where they had classes, secret passageways they had found and documented on The Marauder's Map, cupboards they had hidden in to escape the watchful eyes of the Hogwarts caretaker, Argus Filch, or his cat Mrs. Norris.

Remus felt his legs moving faster and faster underneath him. Paintings were whizzing by him as he darted. ('No running in the corridors,' a monk yelled after him from one near Professor McGonagall's office.)

By the time Remus reached the large fireplace in the Great Hall he was so worked up he nearly dropped the pouch of Floo Powder he had brought with him that morning. He threw a handful into the grate and with a roar the fire blazed into an emerald green shade.

"LUPIN LODGE!" he shouted as he stepped into the flames and felt himself being pulled down a large plug hole. He was soon spat out on the floor of his own living room.

Remus turned himself over on the oak floor and stared up at the ceiling.

What had he just agreed to do? He didn't want to see Sirius. He couldn't face the one person who had destroyed his whole life in the most personal and painful way.

Why was Dumbledore making Remus do it? He had all but forced Remus's hand.

Hours later Remus was still lying on the living room floor when he heard the familiar flutter of wings, which announced the arrival of an owl.

Remus opened the window to a Hogwarts owl and hesitantly removed the letter attached to its leg. The owl took off into the skies without waiting for any treats.

Remus opened the letter and read the emerald writing on the headed parchment.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, first Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Remus,

I have arranged with Mr. Crouch, for us to visit Azkaban tomorrow afternoon. If you could arrive at Hogwarts by 10am, we can then Floo to the nearest transport point and continue our journey to the coast.

I look forward to seeing you, and believe me when I say that I think seeing Sirius should help.

Yours

Albus Dumbledore

Remus put the letter aside, Dumbledore would not allow him a way out of this one, he realized.

***

As the boat edged closer to Azkaban Fortress, Remus pulled his cloak closer around his shoulders. It was more than the cold sea air that was making him feel this way. It had been just over two weeks since he had seen Sirius, but everything had changed since then.

Their last meeting had been just before the Fidelius Charm was cast. The lot of them had gathered at 'The Den' to celebrate Sirius's birthday. Lily and James had done their best to coax Remus into coming to the party, but still, Remus hadn't wanted to attend and risk the possibility of an argument with Sirius, or worse. It was only when Lily had confronted him with the possibility of not seeing herself, James or Harry after the Charm was in place, that he had swallowed his pride and returned to his old home.

As the Fortress came more into view Remus could feel his stomach retching. He hated this place. He remembered stories of it from childhood, tales of the Dementors and the affects they have on their victims. The effects that they would have on Sirius.

Dumbledore sat at the other end of the boat, his hand trailing in the cool water. He was quieter then his usual self today, and Remus was thankful that he did not have to keep up a polite pretence for the man.

Before long the boat jolted to a stop at the Azkaban landing platform. Dumbledore stood up from his seat and placed a strong hand on Remus's shoulder, guiding him onto the platform.

At the island gates to the prison, Dumbledore handed over their passes which were checked numerous times by the Aurors. When they were eventually satisfied that the two visitors were who they appeared to be the large doors were opened and they were allowed to enter.

The gates where at least thirty feet high and looked like burnt charcoal. The unwelcoming structure had been attacked and abused many times over the years, but it had an old magic at its core and still stood strong against the unwanted attention.

Remus watched Dumbledore pass under the gates but was unable to move his legs to follow. Dumbledore turned and looked at Remus through his half moon glasses.

"Remus," Dumbledore said in a soft, commanding voice, and with those words Remus seemed to find some strength to carry on.

He passed under the three hundred year old gates and was immediately hit with a sense of extreme depression. Near the end of a short path Remus could see a group of Dementors. They had only recently been forced back to their position at Azkaban and did not seem happy to have their freedom taken away from them.

With each step Remus could feel a heavier weight on his body. His feet felt like they had started to trudge through thick mud, and a deep darkness filled his mind.

He gasped at the emotion being pulled through his body; each step made it worse, every inch closer to the Dementors filled him with despair. He now saw two Dementors turn and looked at him.

He could not see their faces, but he could feel their long fingers grasp around his mind. Remus tripped on the road and lurched forward.

He reached one hand out to stop himself from hitting the ground just as the other grasped his wand. He had to form a Patronus to defend himself. In a moment Remus felt the warm hands of his headmaster grasping his shoulders.

"Remus," said his concerned voice, "are you okay?"

Remus couldn't answer him. He was trying to gather his thoughts. Trying to form a happy memory. In the past he had thought of Sirius, but that just brought more pain. He had to find something else.

"Remus?"

He thought about Hogwarts, where he had spent his happiest day, but no that had been a lie. Remus fell onto one knee. He thought about Harry, the small child who had brought so much laughter into their lives, but was now left orphaned. Remus's body hit the ground. He could only see Godric's Hollow and the ruins of the house James and Lily had died in, the knowledge of what Sirius must have done cutting into his heart like a knife.

Remus felt all the warmth leave his body. It wouldn't be long now, Remus realised. The Dementors would get another soul.

"Expecto Patronum!" a voice said from somewhere above him, and Remus felt a swooping of wings over his head. He managed to lift his head far enough to see a large silver phoenix diving towards the Dementors and forcing them back.

Remus felt his head hit the ground again just as he lost consciousness.

Somewhere in his mind he felt his body lifting up and being carried away. He managed to open his eyes long enough to see the large gates of Azkaban over his head for the second time, but then his mind went black.

Black like night.

Black like death.

Black like his betrayer.

***

In a cell not far away the face of a young man was pressed against the bars in his small window.

He had seen the two men enter under the gates. There was something strangely familiar about them, and as he had watched the younger fall to the ground he had felt a memory stab his heart.

He had wanted to run out and fight back the Dementors himself. He needed to defend this man from them and what they were doing to the man but he didn't have the chance.

A silver phoenix sailed over the fallen man's head in his defence, and then the older man had easily picked him up and started to carry him away.

'No don't take him,' Sirius had thought, 'I need to see him; I have to talk to him.'

Sirius watched as they passed under the gates again. Suddenly a name appeared in front of his eyes.

Remus.

With that he felt a sudden rush of emotion, a rush of longed for love. He had to call the man back; he had to tell Remus everything.

Sirius opened his mouth to shout the name across the island. Just as he did, the Dementors outside his door turned and fixed their gaze on him. He could only hear screaming in his head now, he could only feel despair.

As he lost control of his body yet again, Sirius fell backwards into his small cell and gashed his head open on the stone floor.

***