Lies

By Neurotica

Twelve

News about the feared Dark Lord's rise was released the day it had been discovered. Alongside Albus Dumbledore, Minister Amelia Bones had made the announcement first to Ministry officials, then to a select group of reporters. News had, naturally, traveled very quickly throughout the country. Bones had asked the magical community to remain calm and vigilant.

Diagon Alley had been unusually deserted in the days after; witches and wizards feared to travel far from their homes. Aurors were scattered around England not only to keep their eyes open in case of sudden attacks, but to assure people the Ministry was taking Voldemort's threat seriously.

The small village of Godric's Hollow had been a source of great curiosity. Magical Forensics, along with the high-ranking Department of Magical Law Enforcement officers, had spent a week on the site of Lily and James Potter's former home. Exactly what it was that they were searching for was a mystery to all but them. The amount of magic surrounding the site had shocked many. It was obvious to those scarce few who were not aware of the tragic events that had been taken place there that terrible dark magic had been executed there before Voldemort had risen. That was the site, after all, where Voldemort had fallen in the first place.

Remus stood alone before the former home of his two best friends staring dazedly at the destruction that had never been removed. He could almost see the home in its original form. He could see Lily working in the garden she loved so much. He could see James sitting in the grass playing peek-a-boo with a six-month-old Harry. He could smell Lily's fabulous cooking, and could hear James' unique laughter.

Shaking his head and sniffing slightly, Remus ducked under the caution tape and walked up the front path. He stood in front of the space formerly occupied by the front door, and nearly, out of old habit, reached out a hand to the doorbell that no longer existed.

Carefully, he moved across the debris. He hadn't been there for years. The last time was when he'd come to salvage some of Lily and James' possessions. He walked to the sight Voldemort's large cauldron had been a week previous and looked around. Why had Voldemort come here? Just to rub something in the faces of the wizarding world? To show them that no place was sacred? Somehow, Remus didn't quite think so.

There were no footprints leading into or out of the rubble. The Aurors and Forensics workers had a way of hiding their traces without disturbing evidence or clues; it was what made them the best around.

Remus knelt on the ground, picked up some dirt, and let it fall between his fingertips. There was no real reason for him to be there; he just wanted to see it firsthand. He'd avoided the place for years for obvious reasons.

Sirius had flat-out refused to join him. He wouldn't even go with the Aurors during their search for clues. Remus understood his reasoning even if he had never voiced it; the last time he'd been there, he'd seen his friends' dead bodies. Anyone would feel the same, really.

A hand closed on Remus' shoulder, causing him to jump up and pull out his wand in one swift movement. He lowered his wand when he set eyes on the person before him. Instead of the usual grin Sirius wore when he scared the hell out of his friend, his face was oddly tense.

"You shouldn't be out here alone," Sirius muttered.

Remus raised an eyebrow. "I'm not a child, Sirius," he said gently.

"I know," Sirius said, tearing his eyes from one particular spot just over Remus' shoulder. "Find anything?"

"No, I wasn't really looking for anything..." Remus trailed off.

Sirius nodded.

The two friends stared at one another for long minutes, communicating silently about how they both felt about being where they were. The Marauders always had that sort of bond between the four of them. Lily had once said it was creepy the way they could read one another so well. None of them could ever explain it, not that they actually tried. Remus wasn't sure when that bond had begun, but it was always a comfort he'd found with his friends.

Without a word, Sirius and Remus left the site and walked through the abandoned neighborhood. Residents had complained of strange feelings in the neighborhood after Lily and James' deaths—they said it just didn't feel right. One woman had even said there was a dark aura surrounding the young couple's home after that night. In the months after, families began to leave, eventually making it a ghost neighborhood.

Exchanging only a small glance, the two wizards Apparated to Number Twelve; the Order would be meeting soon.


Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together under a beech tree looking out into the lake. Their original plan (well, Hermione's plan, really) had been to do their homework. They found, however, that their attention was on other things.

Voldemort's return had not influenced day-to-day life at the school too much. The students were on their guard, and stricter rules on post-curfew wanderers had been put into place. The parents of Hogwarts students were correct in their assumptions that the school was the safest place in their world with Albus Dumbledore around. However, one or two sets of parents had pulled their children out of the school despite the Headmaster's promise of their safety.

A lot of the older students had taken out subscriptions for the Daily Prophet. It was pointless, really; Voldemort hadn't shown any sign of wanting to attack just yet. He was biding his time... And when he did attack, there would not be one person who did not know about it.

"When do you think it's going to happen?" Ron asked quietly.

"What?" Harry and Hermione asked automatically.

"The war..."

Harry turned thoughtfully to his red-haired friend. "I don't know," he said.

War wasn't something familiar to any of them. The sixth and seventh year students might have had very vague memories, but the rest of them were too young to remember. Harry, perhaps, had a better understanding of it all, having grown up with Sirius and Remus. From a young age, he knew how his parents had died, and by whose wand. They'd even told him why his parents were murdered. He fully understood the prophecy that had been made before his birth by the time he started Hogwarts. The threat of an inevitable battle between him and Voldemort didn't worry him as much as it should have. But the fourth year knew that no matter what happened his guardians would be right next to him through it all.

"Want to play Quidditch, Harry?" Ron asked, looking behind them to the Quidditch pitch.

Harry smiled. "Sure." Leave it to Ron to change the subject from war to Quidditch.

Hermione raised her eyebrows and muttered, "Boys," before the two friends took off.


Security at the Ministry of Magic had been tighter than it had been since the first war. Apparition was strictly prohibited; anyone caught doing so received a week in the Ministry holding cells and a hefty fine. Floo entry was monitored by Aurors. The moment a witch or wizard entered the Ministry, proper identification was required.

Sirius stood in the long line with his Auror's license in hand. While the security measures were necessary, Sirius—like many other Ministry workers—believed there were easier, more convenient ways to do things.

"Morning, Tonks." Sirius grinned at his blue-haired cousin.

Tonks glared. "Why do I have Floo detail? Did I piss you off or something?" she asked, checking Sirius' license.

"Of course not! It's only because we love you so much," Sirius insisted, pinching Tonks' cheek and walking away quickly before she could retaliate.

He made his way through the Ministry, down the packed lift to level two, and walked to Auror Headquarters. The Aurors who had already arrived that morning looked exhausted. For nearly two weeks, they'd all be on-call at all hours of the night, dealing with hysterical witches and wizards who claimed to have sighted Voldemort in their front yards. All of them, of course, were false alarms, but that didn't stop the Aurors from being irritated.

"Mornin', Sirius," Kingsley grunted as Sirius sat in a chair across from the other wizard's desk.

"Good morning!" Sirius replied cheerfully causing Kingsley to glare at him. Sirius grinned. "Long night?"

"One woman called in at two a.m. When we got out there, it was just an oversized Kneazle sneaking around the bushes. Now the woman is telling anyone who will listen that You-Know-Who can transform into a Kneazle," Kingsley said flatly.

Sirius laughed. "Can't be as bad as the wizard who said Voldemort jumped out of that portrait of his mother. And why can't you ever say his name?" Sirius asked when Kingsley shivered at the sound of the Dark Lord's name.

"Not everyone's as comfortable with it as you and Lupin," Kingsley answered.

"There aren't many people who are as comfortable with a lot of things as Lupin," Sirius said.


Remus sat in the small, yet comfortable, kitchen of John Barrow's home sipping tea from a chipped ceramic mug. Though the werewolf hadn't spoken with him in years, John was an old friend of Remus'; he and the Marauders had been in the same year at Hogwarts, but John was a Ravenclaw.

"Remus, I appreciate what you're doing here, what you're all doing, really, I do. But... I would prefer to stay as far out of this as I can. I lost everything last time, and I just can't do it again," John said quietly, picking at a spot on his kitchen table.

Remus could only nod. He, along with the Marauders and Lily, had been at the funeral for John's wife and six-month-old daughter not two years after graduation. "I understand," Remus said sympathetically. He drained the last of his tea and took John's example as the other wizard stood.

"If there's anything else I can do..." John said.

Remus smiled and shook his old friend's hand. "Thank you for your time, John. Not everyone has been this hospitable," he added with a tired laugh.

John nodded. "No one wants to believe it. I mean, I always knew You-Know-Who would come back, but..." John stared off into another room looking quite sad. "You take care of yourself, Remus. And tell Black I say hello."

"I will. Goodbye, John."

Remus left the small house and Apparated to visit the next family' on his list. He had been set the duty of recruiting for the Order. Former Hogwarts students, old friends of Dumbledore and other Order members were being asked to help their cause in any way possible. So far, not many people had even considered what Remus was saying to them. The majority of them were in John Barrow's position: they'd all lost family or friends in the first war and were hesitant to make themselves targets and risk all they had built over the years. It was exactly how John said; no one wanted to believe Voldemort had returned. They knew it would mean more years of darkness, pain, and loss. They didn't want to face it just yet.

Looking down at his list, and crossing off yet another name, Remus walked up the front walkway of Augusta Longbottom. He knocked on the front door and smoothed out his robes. The mother of Frank Longbottom had always been strict when it came to proper dress. Remus had only met the witch on a few occasions, and while most found her foreboding—including her grandson—Remus knew she could be quite pleasant when she wanted to be. Mrs. Longbottom had always been quite proud of her son and daughter-in-law. It was an immense tragedy that Frank and Alice could no longer function as a normal family with Neville...

The door opened and Remus set eyes on Augusta. He had to work hard to contain his laughter; she wouldn't appreciate it. The woman was wearing a long green dress and a hat with a stuffed vulture on the top. Remus, of course, had seen the outfit before, but not on Mrs. Longbottom.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Longbottom. I don't know if you remember me—" Remus began.

"Of course, I remember you, boy. Come in, come in," Mrs. Longbottom said briskly. "Only just got home. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Ah, no, thank you," Remus said, smiling.

"I've been wandering when one of you lot would be coming to see me," the witch said, leading Remus in to her sitting room.

"One of who, ma'am?" Remus asked, slightly surprised.

Mrs. Longbottom raised an eyebrow as if she thought Remus was fairly daft. "You're one of Dumbledore's bunch?" Remus nodded. "That's what I meant. I knew he'd be sending someone 'round here sooner or later. I know all about his Order. Don't seem so shocked, boy. Frank told me years ago just in case something happened. Such a good boy, he was."

"I see," Remus said quietly. "So you know why I'm here, then?"

"I do." Mrs. Longbottom sighed, looking fondly at a picture of her son and his family. "And rest assured I'll help out in any way I can. Always knew this would happen sometime."

Remus smiled at the woman, and received a rare smile in return. With Mrs. Longbottom's promise to help, the two spent the rest of Remus' visit discussing the wizarding world in general, Frank's and Alice's conditions (Alice could recognize Neville now, which made Remus smile sadly), and Neville, himself.

Mrs. Longbottom held high aspirations for her only grandson, and while she was hard on the boy at times, it was obvious, by the photos of him that resided in the sitting room, that she loved him dearly.

Remus left the Longbottom residence soon after and Apparated back to Number Twelve. He entered just in time to see Sirius rip Mrs. Black's curtain closed. The look on his face would have sent most people running from the room for safety, but Remus Lupin wasn't most people.

"Bad day, Padfoot?" Remus asked casually. Sirius glared at him and stomped off to the basement kitchen.

"Goddamned house-elf. I swear, Remus, next time he's going to be unconscious at the foot of the stairs," Sirius said, fuming.

Remus raised an eyebrow. "And here I thought Sirius Black was benevolent to all creatures," he said, earning another glare. "What did he do this time?"

"Caught him snogging some of my father's trousers and I ripped them away from him. He decided to get revenge by waking my mother. He sat there laughing his ugly little head off while I tried to shut the old bat up."

"You know, it wouldn't hurt to be nicer to him," Remus said.

"Please, god, tell me you're kidding," Sirius said dryly. Remus shook his head. "After everything that little ball of filth has said to you alone, you want me to be nice to him?" Remus shrugged. "You're insane. What is Snape putting in that Wolfsbane?"

Remus chuckled. "I'm not saying you should take him to the Ministry, adopt him, and start calling him 'son'. All I'm telling you is that you shouldn't yell at him so much. A little kindness goes a long way, Sirius," he said wisely.

Sirius wasn't buying it. "Right. I'll keep that in mind. I'm going to take a shower—"

"Good, you smell—"

"—and try to get rid of this bloody headache. See you in a few," Sirius said, rolling his eyes at Remus' good mood and going up the steep staircase.


Sirius raced down the stairs of his childhood home the moment he heard the doorbell followed by the imminent shrieks of his mother's portrait. He'd just gotten out of the shower and had only enough time to put on a pair of jeans. While Sirius struggled to shut the portrait curtains, Remus went to answer the door. Sirius watched him from the stairs where he sat down to dry his shoulder-length hair with his wand. The door was only open a crack, allowing Remus to speak with the dimwitted visitor who had rung the doorbell. Remus looked over his shoulder and sent his friend a wary glance before opening the door fully.

The moment Sirius set eyes on Snape, he stood from the stairs and ascended without a single word.

Snape raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment on Sirius' actions; he obviously felt it best that Sirius wasn't around.

"What can I do for you, Severus?" Remus asked tensely. He didn't like Snape being in his presence much either.

"The Headmaster has sent me to retrieve the list of people you've spoken with," Snape said smoothly.

"Right, wait here," Remus said, going to the kitchen for the list. On his way back up he nearly experienced what was sure to have been an unpleasant collision with Snape. Does he not understand the term wait bloody here? Remus thought. He handed the list over to Snape stiffly and watched the other wizard's eyes scan the parchment.

"You could only convince three families? Spectacular work, Lupin," Snape said, smirking.

"Is there anything else you would like Sniv—er—Severus?" Remus asked, the near slip of the nickname Sirius and James used for the other wizard done purposely.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Certainly not. Why any sane person desire to be in this place, I'll never know. Run along, now, Lupin. Don't want to keep Black waiting for too long," he said.

"If you want, Snivelly, you can join us, we've always got room for greasy-haired Death Eaters," Sirius said coldly, having just come back down the stairs.

Snape spun around to face Sirius. "What a touching sight—Black fighting Lupin's battles once again. Are we planning another attempted murder, Black? Perhaps another innocent student?"

"You were never innocent," Sirius said through gritted teeth. "Get over it and get the hell out of my house."

Snape's lip curled. "Going to try and save the day again, Black?" Snape raised his eyebrows in mock-thoughtfulness. "Oh, wait, that was Potter Senior, now wasn't it?"

Now, most would have expected Sirius to do it, but when Remus' fist connected with the back of Snape's head, the other two wizards were surprised, to say the least.

"Get. out." Remus growled, his eyes flashing dangerously.

Snape's shock lasted only a moment. He moved around Sirius who was too busy staring at Remus in utter astonishment to pay the Potions Master any attention. Rarely, in all the years Sirius had known him, did Remus strike somebody out of anger. It was always James or Sirius who got themselves into Muggle duels. Remus was always the passive onlooker who tried to break it up.

Sirius stared open-mouthed at his best friend until the door slammed shut, causing Sirius' mother to start her screaming all over again.

"Wow," Sirius said, astounded, barely audible over his mother. "I didn't know you had it in you, Moony. Good work." He clapped his friend on the shoulder and for the third time in the hour, he went to shut the curtains over his mother's portrait. His bad mood had quickly faded, and for the rest of the night, Sirius was grinning at his friend.

Though it had felt as if he'd broken a few fingers, Remus couldn't help but grin back. "That felt good," he said honestly.