He hated this time of year.
It wasn't the fact that the moon had waned only a few days ago from the fullness that tormented him. It wasn't the fact that the bitter chill in the air bit through his worn clothing. Hell, it wasn't even the fact that he wasn't working, the few galleons he possessed sitting in a trunk upstairs in a guest bedroom.
It was Halloween.
The one holiday that cut his heart to ribbons in ways his fangs and claws never could do to his own flesh.
Maybe that's why Desdemona thought he needed to be alone tonight. She'd always been able to read him like a book, ever since she was eleven and he spent hours trying to drill her in transfiguration. He hadn't laid eyes on his 'little sister' in five years, but still; she could see through his eyes and his white lies and read his soul.
So, she left him her home, a few bottles of various alcohol laid out discretely on a counter, ice in the freezer, a small bowl of candy for the inevitable trick or treaters. Where she went, she didn't say. He didn't ask. He wasn't even supposed to be there in the first place. Not that she'd given him a hell of a lot of choice in the matter.
He poured himself brandy, rolling it in the glass, sitting in a chair by the fireplace, staring into the flames.
Halloween night.
Hell, it'd been seven years, and he still couldn't move past it.
The doorbell rang, the sound echoing off walls in the small house, waking him from his reverie. With a heavy sigh, Remus heaved himself from the chair, grabbing the bowl of candy from the small table, and opened the door...
...and stopped breathing.
"Trick or treat!"
Three children in costume looked back at him, from masks that obscured their faces and outfits that hid their true appearance. Three small pairs of hands held sacks out, asking for their reward for being brave enough to ring the doorbell. That wasn't what had hit Remus Lupin so hard.
The one boy with bright green eyes did.
He had to fight for self control as he handed out the candy dutifully.
He's not Harry. He's not Harry. There's no way that's Harry.
Even hearing a mother calling out 'Come on, Kevin, another block to go' didn't end the shock for him. It was those eyes, the intense green of them, which shocked him completely. The same green that Lily's had been. The same green that a little baby boy he'd once held in his arms had displayed.
"You sure he's not too heavy for you, Moony?"
Sticking his tongue out at an old friend. "Shut up, Prongs. I've held you on your feet, stumbling drunk back to the tower. I think a ten pound baby shouldn't be a problem."
A musical laugh. "He's just being an overly-proud dad. He's prouder than anything that Harry has his hair."
Pulling the smiling baby away to look closer at him. "Your eyes, Lil."
A beaming smile from an uncommonly kind face. "Yeah, that one amazed me. They'll change. He'll eventually get his father's eyes."
"Oi! Moony! When do I get to hold him again?"
"When you take off your jacket, Pads. It still smells like smoke. It can't be good for the baby."
"I'm cutting back. Only had three today."
"Sirius, it's only NOON!"
"Yeah, well, usually I had more than that by now. That's cutting back."
A yawn from the small little bundle in his careful arms. A smile on his face. Feeling intense pride, for no other reason that this being James and Lily's first child.
He closed the door and sat down again, downing the brandy with one swallow. Where was Harry now? What was he doing? Was he out, trick or treating like a normal child? Did he have any chance to be normal anymore?
Seven years of missed birthdays. Missed Christmases. Missed chances to watch him grow, to teach him to sit a broom, to catch a snitch, to let him play fetch with Padfoot in the backyard.
He poured another drink, blessing Des's forethought. Something stronger. It wasn't like he couldn't handle it.
Another ringing doorbell brought him to the front door.
This time, it wasn't the children actually asking for candy that caught his heart. It was the two older kids he saw as he was about to close the door. The high shriek caught his attention, and he looked up to see a girl, of maybe sixteen, dressed in a costume that was maybe a little less appropriate for the weather than it should be, playfully having a shoving war with a taller boy.
Her long red hair caught his attention.
"You really like her, don't you James?"
Watching his friend's gaze shoot across the classroom, watching the swinging ponytail of thick red hair, the girl holding her wand just so, saying the incantation perfectly.
Hearing James cough, discretely.
"Nah, Moony. She's alright, I guess..."
"Then why have you covered your notes in little hearts with L.E. inside?"
"Oh, shut up. She's out of my league, anyway."
Whistling suspiciously.
A head of black hair jerking around. "What are you going on about, Remus?"
"Oh, nothing. Except I heard her mention to someone else that maybe, just maybe, that Potter boy isn't so bad after all. Except for the hair, of course."
Laughing as James searched the charms textbook for a hair-flattening charm.
This time, he slammed the door, pounding back his drink again, desperate for another. He just wanted to forget. He always wanted to forget them, to forget what he'd lost that night.
Why was this year hitting him so much harder than usual?
Because, you complete idiot, usually on Halloween, you're either holed up somewhere with a full moon, or you're working, or you're too busy scrounging a living to notice.
He looked at the empty glass in his hand. Maybe it was the alcohol doing it. Maybe there was just something about drinking tonight that was putting all these memories in his head.
Remus set the glass down in the kitchen sink, taking the bottles and hiding them in Des' pantry. There. Temptation gone. With a heavy heart, he walked back into the foyer, taking a Muggle candy from the bowl and settling down in the chair. Undoing the small foil wrapper, he bit in, sinking into a momentary bliss.
Whoever "Hershey" was, he made good candy. Maybe not as good as the Bertie Bott company, but the chocolate was good.
This time, he didn't groan as loudly when the doorbell rang. Rising to his feet, he grabbed the bowl, considerably lighter by now, and went to hand out treats.
He surely hoped the look that had to have crossed his face went unnoticed by the kids as they thanked him and left. After all, how was the little boy supposed to know that he was receiving candy from someone who was a living and breathing manifestation of his costume.
What was it with Muggles and their fascination with werewolves, anyway?
Of course, he forgot about their fascination with witches and vampires and the like as well. It was easy to forget that. He wasn't a vampire or a witch or a mummy.
"I tried, Remus. I really did. I've spent years studying this. I can't find a cure. I can't reverse it, no matter how much I want to. This is the best I can do."
Watching blue eyes cry, yet again. "Des, this is more than I've ever had. More than I've ever been told to hope for my entire life. Do you know what it's like for me, to know that every month I will go mad, like it or not, and if I'm not contained like some creature, I could kill everyone around me without knowing? Do you know how close I came before?"
A wave of a hand. "You didn't even come close to biting me that time, Remus. Silly. Besides..."
"You haven't been the only friend in my life, Des."
Shock in her eyes. Her pale skin accentuating the rust shades in her hair.
Hating himself for that comment. Wishing he could take them back.
Her hand taking his. "You never talk about them, Remus. You never talk about any of them. You never talk about your lycanthropy. You've been there for me so many times. Let me be here for you, just once. Please."
Rambling nonsense to her. Making no sense. Telling her about being lonely and afraid, of James and Sirius figuring it out. Of the animagi. Of all the close calls, the laughs, the fears. Of all those years in school.
Her hand on his face. "Listen to me, big brother. There wasn't anything you could have done that night. Not a thing. What are you supposed to do, control the moon in the sky?"
Looking at her, drawn and haunted. "I could have been there. I could have helped. I could have stopped it all. If only I'd been normal, more reliable, less of a risk...maybe James and Lily would have asked me, and not him. If I wasn't a werewolf, maybe they'd still be alive."
Arms around his shoulders. "James and Lily made a choice, Remus. We all made choices. There is nothing you could do about that. You didn't make anyone do anything. And even if you weren't a werewolf, would that have changed the fact that one of your best friends sold his own soul?"
Not having an answer.
Well, it wasn't the alcohol making him feel this way. That was for damned sure. He was a werewolf, for crying out loud. It wasn't like he could get drunk even if he wanted to in the first place. It just helped calm the mind, that's all. And it wasn't as if he should be surprised to see people with red hair or green eyes. He was from the bloody British Isles for crying out loud. Hell, a kid as a werewolf on Halloween – who would have thought?
Why was it all hitting him so hard tonight?
What next? Am I going to see some big black dog on the front porch and complete the Dickens-style Halloween I'm having?
Another rung doorbell. Another kid saying the magical phrase to receive a handful of chocolate. Another shock to his psyche as he saw the pet that the child's father led by a leash on the sidewalk.
Bloody hell, I don't even -like- Dickens.
Remus gave up. He turned off the porch light that Des had told him to keep lit for the trick or treaters, turned off every light in the downstairs of the house, and stared into the flames of the fireplace.
He couldn't believe Sirius had done what they accused him of doing. He'd never made peace with it. It was just so dark, so sudden, so completely not-Sirius.
Sirius Black was far from an angel, he knew that well enough. But he wouldn't have done this. He couldn't have done this. But he was the one James had chosen. He was the only one it could be. The only one. How could he have done it? How could he have even turned to that creature, let alone sold out his friends.
He'd never gotten the answers he sought. They wouldn't let him into Azkaban to face him. He needed to know. He needed the solace that he thought the truth would bring him, despite everyone else's better judgment that the truth would rip him to pieces.
"What in bloody hell were you thinking, dammit!"
"I'm tired of him, Remus. Always sneering down his insanely-large nose, always trying to pretend he doesn't exist so he can glare from behind. I'm sick of his little attitude of lost-tortured-genius. And, frankly, I don't like him, period. Besides, he keeps searching for some dark secret of ours. I only gave him his heart's desire."
Seething anger unfelt before in his life. "You could have killed him! Well, actually, that's not true. Damn, Sirius, you could have had ME kill him! You and I both know what I can do. You've heard me screaming my agony for years. You've seen the marks. You're not an idiot. What the hell possessed you?"
"Why in hell are you getting mad at me in the first damned place?"
"He didn't deserve that, Sirius! No one does! Just because you don't like Snape does NOT give you the right to play God."
"Oh, get off your high tower, Moony. The world isn't so perfect, you know. Sometimes, you have to do something cruel to make things better. Look at it this way. Snivellus won't be bothering us for a long time."
"God damn it, Sirius, quit calling him that! Hell, you act like you're so far above them, so much removed from the Slytherins and from the cruelty of the pureblood families. Look at you! Look what you did! God, you're not as far removed from your cousins as you'd like to believe you are. If James hadn't..."
"Exactly! If James hadn't intervened. Oh, perfect James and perfect Remus, while Sirius Black sits here and gets blamed for everything. Again. He asked for it, Moony, and I don't give a damn if you believe that or not. I'm tired of answering to everyone, including that greasy-haired bastard. I'm tired of being judged on my last name. I'm sick of it all. If he wants to keep looking for a reason to have it out with me, then I'm going to make him regret it. If you can't see that, I can't make you. So, spare the lecture on ethics, Professor, and leave me be."
What had Voldemort promised Sirius? Revenge on his family? The chance to leave it all behind? He knew that was Padfoot's Achilles' heel. His family.
It wasn't worth it, Pads. I wish you could have known that. It didn't matter to me who your parents were. Where you came from. You were still my friend.
He closed his eyes, too weary to try and sort out the memories anymore.
A sudden slam of thunder outside woke him a few hours later. The fire had died, and a storm was brewing outside. Looking out the window, he watched lightning skate across the sky, lighting the blackness that covered everything.
His heart stopped.
It had to be a trick of the light. It just had to be. Lightning reflecting just so on some raindrops or something insane like that. But he thought, he could have sworn...
Like a complete idiot, he ran outside into the gale, soaked to the skin within seconds, down the walk and towards the road, where he swore he'd seen it moments ago.
It was a bush. A damned bush that had lost its leaves for winter, backlit by lightning.
He'd actually thought, for a moment, it had been a stag. A deer of some kind.
Dear Gods, I'm losing my mind.
Why was this happening to him? Why in hell was everything hitting him so damned hard tonight?
"Big brother, you need to let this go. Please, trust me. You need to let go of this pain."
"How do I do that, Des?"
Sorrow-filled blue eyes staring at him from across a table. "You finally break, Remus. You let yourself feel the pain, and then it begins melting away. Trust me on that one."
Her eyes staring behind him, to a small picture frame, where an auburn-haired man and a black-haired woman smiled back at her, waving from a park bench under a bright summer sky. "One day, Remus, you just break."
The memory of their conversation earlier that night hit him as suddenly as the thunder struck overhead. Dazed, Remus Lupin stood in the rain for almost an hour.
It took that long for the tears he'd held close to his heart to finally fall.