Believing In You
The painting in the corner sniggered softly, muttering a bunch of nothings that no doubt held relevance to the subjects involved. Sirius' bottle of butterbeer was half empty, but Remus had not even touched his. He didn't know if Sirius felt it too, but he for one was comfortable enough simply being in Sirius' company. It had been far too long since they were last able to sit at a table together, without outside company.
Remus knew they would never feel the same way about each other again. There had been too much history, too much future, and too many misunderstandings. What they had back in Hogwarts was precious, beautiful, but far too innocent. They had all aged throughout the last decade and a half, aged more than their liking, but just enough to see what had to be seen. And though they might not feel the same way about each other, there was still a sweet remorse, bordering on nostalgia but filled with promise, lingering in the air.
Yet he still wondered. What would have happened if Sirius had never been framed? What would have happened if Voldemort was never here? Taking a few steps back, what would have happened if Remus had simply believed?
"Sirius?" he broke the silence. "I don't think I ever apologized, for...for doubting you."
"It's okay, Remus," Sirius replied, even as his tone said that it was clearly not okay. "I couldn't expect you to believe in me when the rest of the wizarding world had already turned its back."
If Sirius was being bitter, he had done a very good job of it; or perhaps years in Azkaban, a year on the run and then months cooped up indoors had doused even Sirius' fire, just a little. Remus had nothing to respond with. At least, nothing that Sirius didn't know already.
"Do you remember that time you came to visit me in Azkaban?" Sirius asked suddenly. "You demanded to know why. Why I betrayed Lily, betrayed James, Peter, you."
"How could I forget?" Remus' voice was quiet.
"Do you know what I was thinking before you came? I was hoping you would come. I knew in my heart that you would always believe in me. I knew that you were my only hope, that you knew I was good. That you would never turn on me."
Remus was finding it hard to look at Sirius now. He popped open his bottle of butterbeer, if only for the sake of doing something with his hands.
"The dementors never had me. They couldn't slowly suck at my soul like they were doing to the others because I knew that I was innocent, that I had to stop Peter, and that you were somewhere out there, believing in me. And that night, after you came? The dementors were having a field day. Even they couldn't quite believe it had happened. They couldn't believe I was beaten so suddenly. Do you know why I was beaten, Remus? Do you?" There was no mistaking the accusation in his voice now. Sirius was always so happy, so eager to make everyone else forget their troubles. This was one of the few times Sirius had ever gotten so emotional, and Remus felt nothing but shame at it.
In a burst of courage – or perhaps fear, because he couldn't bear to hear Sirius voice it – Remus answered, "I do. What got to you was not that I..." he stumbled. "That I betrayed you. What really made you feel lost was that if the situation was reversed, if I was behind those bars, you would have believed in me." As he said it, Remus knew it was the truth, and a fresh wave of guilt washed over him. "You would have known I was good. You would have believed in me, found the real reasons why, and you would have loved me. You would have been there."
Sirius nodded. It was hard, how they could still read each other so well. Just like everything was so painstakingly hard nowadays. Even the memory of what they had, the fact that they used to know each other so well and on a level still did, was hard to handle. "I would have believed in you, Remus. And on that night?"
"On that night, I realized what an absolute waste that would have been."
