Consequences
By Neurotica
Twenty-One
Mid-June at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft of Wizardry meant many things. For one, the term would be ending soon, and the students would be free from homework and teachers for two glorious months. It also meant exams. For the seventh years, it meant N.E.W.T.s; for the fifth years, it meant O.W.L.s. Gryffindor Tower had never been as quiet as it was during O.W.L. week. Hermione Granger could be seen at all hours of the day and night (when she wasn't in class) hunched over books and notes. If a student even made a peep of noise, they could expect to have house points docked by the study-obsessed Prefect. Ron and Harry wanted to tell her it was wrong to dock points from one's own house, but neither of them had the courage to face her glares head-on. Instead, they allowed her to make them detailed, color-coded study schedules, and tried their best to follow them as they sat beside her, hoping she would help them understand what exactly they were reading.
Career advisement had come and gone, leaving Harry to wonder how exactly he was going to pass Potions with an Outstanding. The only career he'd ever shown any interest in was an Auror. He'd, of course, written to Sirius and Remus for help on choosing a path for his future, and they both thought he would do quite well as a dark wizard catcher. Apparently, being an Auror was in Harry's blood—as far back as Sirius could recall, at least one Potter man had been one. Harry knew how both his grandfather and father had died, and wondered darkly if that too was a part of the Potter family Auror tradition. If it was, he'd rethink his career choices—he'd always enjoyed Magical Games and Sports, and he knew the head of the department, Ludo Bagman, well through Sirius.
He knew many of the Aurors in the Ministry of Magic through Sirius, as well. Most of them were pretty decent in Harry's eyes, and a few had become like extended family to him—Tonks, Dawlish, Evans, and Kingsley. Kingsley, of course, had been the best of the lot, and Harry felt like he'd lost his uncle when he'd heard the news of the Auror's murder. Sirius hadn't been taking it well at all—Remus said he rarely spoke unless spoken to, and he'd pretty much shut himself out from his friends. He'd written Harry a few times since Kingsley's funeral—which Harry had been allowed to leave school in order to attend—but the letters were always short and dull. Remus also told Harry that Sirius was working so much now that he just slept in his office at the Ministry. He hadn't been drinking much, though, according to Remus, but Harry thought that was only because Remus had very cleverly hidden all the firewhiskey.
The portrait hole to the common room opened, and Fred, George, and their best friend, Lee Jordon, clambered through noisily. Hermione growled menacingly, her hair bushier than ever and giving her the appearance of a rabid lion, and turned to glare at the three seventh year boys.
"Do you mind?" she said through gritted teeth. "Some of us actually care about our futures."
Fred shook his head and smiled fondly at Hermione. "What makes you think we don't care about our futures, my dearest Hermione?"
"Yeah, just because we don't spend hours pouring over books doesn't mean we're not thinking about life outside the magnificent walls of Hogwarts," George added, sitting on Ron's other side.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "You are aware you lot have N.E.W.T.s coming up, right?"
"Has anyone ever told you that you look like Remus when you raise your eyebrow like that, Harry?" George said thoughtfully. "And yes, we are aware of our upcoming N.E.W.T.s, Not that they really matter..."
"What do you mean 'they don't really matter'?" Hermione shrieked, causing a few second years to start. "N.E.W.T.s are everything when it comes to getting a job in the wizarding world! If you don't have proper marks, how can you ever expect to get anywhere in life?"
"Calm down, Hermione," Fred said. "They're just not important to us." He shrugged. "We've got another path that's recently laid itself out to us."
"What path?" Ron asked suspiciously. "You're not still on about that joke shop stuff, are you? Mum already said she wasn't going to allow it."
George patted his youngest brother on the head as if he was a rather cute dog. "Ronnie, Ronnie, Ronnie, you really are clueless, aren't you?"
"It's a rather endearing quality," Fred agreed, nodding. "Yes, Ron we are still on about the joke shop. And we've just made a deal that has set our futures as entrepreneurs in stone."
"What deal?" Harry asked interestedly.
"We'd love to tell you, Harry mate," Fred said with an air of regret.
"But if we did, we'd have to kill you," George added matter-of-factly.
"And if we did that, Sirius would kill us."
"Yes, and Sirius can be quite frightening when he wants to be—I'm sure you'll agree wholeheartedly with that."
"Therefore, we're not going to tell you."
"In fact, we're going to bed. It's been a long, tiring day."
"Don't study too hard."
The twins and Lee left the common room with smirks on their faces and went up to their dormitory, leaving the trio open-mouthed and confused in their wake.
"I don't even want to know," Ron said slowly. "Because if I know, Mum would murder me for not doing something to stop them."
They continued their studying for a few more hours until Ron was heard snoring loudly on top of his History of Magic textbook. Harry said good night to Hermione who grunted in response as she looked over her Transfiguration notes, and helped Ron get up the spiral staircase to their dorm.
It was nearing midnight in the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, and the house's reluctant owner still hadn't returned from the Ministry. Most of the occupants had been in bed for over an hour, but Remus remained in the kitchen waiting up for Sirius. He'd tried to convince his best friend that it was doing him no good sleeping on the sofa in his office at Auror Headquarters, and had nearly dragged him out of the Ministry. Sirius seemed to find burying himself in his work was a good way to get away from his troubles. Since Kingsley's death two months ago, Sirius had been withdrawn from everything around him. It was understandable; Kingsley and Sirius had been very good friends. But Remus still worried about him. Whenever he visited Auror Headquarters these days, Sirius was always bent over reports or pouring over maps. Remus almost would have preferred his best friend to have gone on a drinking binge to get rid of his problems. At least then he would be at Order Headquarters and Remus could keep an eye on him.
Sirius was under pressure to replace his second-in-command—he refused to do it. There weren't many in the Auror squads that he could honestly say he trusted with his life. Tonks was one of those exceptions, but not only was she very junior in the Ministry, Sirius didn't think she could handle the position at the moment.
The young witch had followed her cousin into a depression. When she wasn't at the Ministry, she was locked up in one of the guest bedrooms at Number Twelve. Normally, she was sent on undercover missions for the Order to search out Death Eaters, but since Kingsley's death, she'd lost control of her Metamorph powers. She couldn't even change her eye color anymore—she was stuck with a grey that closely resembled Sirius' eyes—and her hair had fallen into a droopy, mousy brown. Emmeline had tried to cheer her up on many occasions, but it was doing no good really—
"Oh, sorry... I didn't know anyone was still awake," said a voice from the staircase.
Remus stiffened and tightened the grip around his bottle of butterbeer to the point he nearly broke it. Of all people to come wandering in the kitchen at this time of night, it just had to be her. Just his luck. Slowly, he turned to face her. "What are you doing here?" he asked stiffly, not caring about sounding rude.
Naomi didn't back down from his glare—she'd been receiving them on a regular basis over the last months. "I was just getting a drink," she said quietly.
Remus raised an eyebrow. "I thought you'd left after the meeting," he said coldly.
Tentatively, Naomi descended the remaining stairs to the kitchen. She watched Remus warily as if she was waiting for him to take out his wand and curse her into oblivion. He didn't think that was such a bad idea actually. "Well, I did," she finally answered. "But I came back. I was actually hoping to talk to Sirius. Is he around?"
"No," Remus answered curtly. "What do you want with Sirius?"
She shrugged lamely. "Just to see how he's doing," she muttered.
"Sirius is fine," he said stiffly. She nodded. "I think I'll go to bed. Excuse me." He stood to leave, but she blocked the stairs. "Would you get out of my way, please?" he asked, trying to keep his temper in check. It was quite hard when she stared at him like that.
"Can I talk to you, then?" she asked suddenly.
"We have nothing to talk about."
She bit her lip. "Please? Just for a moment."
Remus rubbed his temples tiredly. He knew she would eventually corner him, wanting to talk, and he'd done his best to avoid her. He ignored her with the best of his ability when he was in the same room with her longer than necessary, and if he couldn't leave right away, he always had someone with him to keep from having to speak with her. Despite the strong feelings of loathing he felt towards her, there were also memories of what they'd once been, and at the moment, those memories were winning the inner battle he found himself fighting. He had to admit that he was actually a bit curious to hear what she had to say to him. Without a word of acknowledgement, he turned back to the table and sat slowly.
She sighed and moved to sit beside him. He didn't look at her, but waited expectantly, thinking that whatever she had to say had better be good. "It's good to see you," she said quietly. His jaw clenched. "I-I've missed you..."
"Naomi, if you wanted to talk about us, don't waste your breath. There is no us. There hasn't been for many years."
"I know," she sighed again. "I just—"
"Why are you here, Naomi?" he asked suddenly. "And I don't just mean right this minute. Why have you come back to the Order?"
"Because I want to help," she answered simply.
He laughed bitterly, finally turning to look at her. "You want to help? Forgive me for saying this, but I don't believe you. Was this one of Voldemort's brilliant plans, you coming back here? Did he tell you to come spy on us?"
"No!" she cried. "Dammit, Remus, this has nothing to do with him. I did this on my own. Look, I was wrong. It was the biggest mistake of my life joining him. I should have listened to you when you told me to go to Dumbledore. You were right. Is that what you want to hear, Remus? You were right, I was wrong. Are you happy now?"
Remus shook his head. "No, I'm not," he said. "God, Naomi, do you have any idea how our lives—your life—could have been different? I wanted to help you, to save you, and you just ran away like the coward you are. Don't you dare interrupt me," he threatened when she opened her mouth. "For years, I wondered where you were, if you were all right. I didn't sleep for weeks after you left me. I stayed awake thinking about what we could have been. We were two weeks from our wedding, Naomi..."
"I know," she said a bit hoarsely. She looked as if she wanted to take his hand, but thought better of it. "I don't know what else to say other than I'm sorry. I was stupid. I was scared."
"Why did you really join him?"
She sighed. "I don't know," she admitted softly, shaking her head. "I-I'd been talking with Rabastan Lestrange—he's my cousin, you know." He nodded that he knew. "Anyway, Rabastan was telling me how he and Rodolphus had joined the Death Eaters, and how much better they were because of it. I blew him off for months, telling him how full of shit he was and to leave me alone. He came by my house when you were out on that mission for Dumbledore in Sweden. He told me the Dark Lord was looking for recruits—he even tried telling me that you hadjoined him. I didn't believe him, of course—I knew you better than that—you'd never do anything like that. But he was adamant. He said the only way you or I would live through the war was if I did something for the Dark Lord. They wanted me to spy on the Order, to pass along information. I refused and told him if he ever came back, I'd go to the Ministry."
"You should have gone to them in the first place," Remus muttered. "Or me at the very least," he added bitterly.
She nodded. "I was stupid—that was my first mistake." She smiled humorlessly. "He left me alone for a while. The next time I heard from the Death Eaters was two weeks before Lily and James were murdered. You'd just left, actually. We were finalizing wedding plans. I thought it was you, at first—maybe you'd forgotten something, but it wasn't you; it was Peter. I let him in, of course; I had no reason not to—as far as I knew, he was still our friend. He looked horrible, Remus, as though he'd been tortured. Well, I found out later that he had. The Dark Lord wanted him to convince me to join the Death Eaters. Peter told me what he'd done." At this she looked disgusted with herself. "He said he'd gotten the Mark a year before. He said—" She choked up a bit, but composed herself quickly. "He said there were big plans for Lily and James. He wouldn't tell me what, but I knew it couldn't be good... He said if I joined the Death Eaters, I could save Lily and James and Harry and you and Sirius... He said it would all end, the war would end, if I just joined. I told him to get the hell out of my house, and he used Cruciatus on me."
"What?" Remus said sharply.
She nodded. "He didn't hold it for long, only a few seconds. I think he was afraid to do it any longer, afraid you'd come back for some reason. God, I wished you would have come back, Remus... But he told me there would be worse consequences if I didn't agree, and he would come back in the next few weeks."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Remus breathed, now unable to look away from her.
"I should have, but I was afraid if I told you what was happening they'd kill you too..."
"We could have saved Lily and James," he muttered painfully.
"He came back," she continued as if she hadn't heard him, "two days before Halloween with Rabastan, Rodolphus, and Bellatrix. By that time, I'd made up my mind. I'd thought Lily and James were safe—they'd gone under the Fidelius charm with Sirius as their Secret-Keeper. The only way I could save you was to join them. They sidelong-Apparated me to their meeting place—the Dark Lord was waiting, and he gave me the Mark."
Remus shook his head disbelievingly. "You could have made everything so much different, for all of us."
"I know," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "God, Remus, I know. There's nothing that haunts me worse than thoughts of what could have—should have—happened. I'm sorry I left you, but I had to. They would have found you and killed you, and I couldn't let that happen."
"They killed Lily and James!" Remus tried to shout; it only came out as a hoarse whisper. "And as for me, if you didn't want to see me killed, then where the hell were you when I was being tortured on the full moon in France?"
"I was there," she said in a rush, as if she'd wanted to say this for months. "Right before the full moon. I found out what they were going to do to you, and I went to the last place I heard Hagrid had been. He was with a giant—I have no idea why—but I told him what the Death Eaters were going to do to you. Somehow, he got the giant to chase them out of their camp. When they'd gone, Hagrid and I went to check on you. You were too weak to do anything, but when you realized we were there, you tried to break out of the paddock. I wanted to stay and see if there was anything I could do, but Hagrid made me leave—he said if someone came back and saw I was helping you, they'd kill me on the spot. Hagrid said he would come back in the morning—the giant had run off into the forest, and Hagrid had to go and catch him."
"You were there?" he asked in a strangled whisper.
She took his hands in her own—he let her. "I'm so sorry about everything, Remus," she said softly. "I never wanted to hurt you. I loved you more than anything in the world—I still do, but I know you don't feel anything for me anymore, and I've come to terms with that. I don't blame you for not caring for me one bit; it's my fault you feel that way. I want you to be happy, and every time I see you with Emmeline... Are you happy with her?"
He looked down at their intertwined hands. "Very happy," he said with a small smile. "It's been many years since I was this happy."
She nodded. "I thought as much. I know you'll probably never forgive me for all I've put you through, and I wouldn't deserve your forgiveness even if you did give it to me. But I wouldn't mind at least being your friend again one of these days..."
Remus didn't reply. He didn't know how to reply. Naomi had once been a big part of his life, the most important thing in his life. But she'd betrayed his trust, betrayed his love, hidden things from him, and she could have been partly to blame for Lily and James' deaths. How could he get past that?
"Remus," she said softly. He looked up and realized how very close she'd moved to him. He always loved her eyes, he remembered—the mixture of green and brown, but mostly green right now... "Can I kiss you?" she breathed. "Just one last time?"
Before he could stop himself, before he could tell himself that this was the most idiotic thing he could ever do, his lips connected with hers. It only lasted seconds before he pulled away from her. He opened his eyes and sat back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. "I have to go," he said hoarsely. "Good night."
He left her in the kitchen and went up towards the second landing to his bedroom where he found Emmeline walking out the door.
"Hey," she said. "I was wondering where you'd gotten to. Are you okay?" she added at the look on his face.
He nodded a bit stiffly. "Fine," he whispered, unable to look at her. "I just couldn't sleep—waiting for Sirius, you know."
"He's still not back?" she asked concernedly as Remus wrapped an arm around her waist and led her back to her bedroom. "I thought you said he was coming back?"
"Thought he was," Remus muttered, looking anywhere but at her.
She entered her room, but he stood on the threshold staring at the floor. Should he tell her what happened in the kitchen with Naomi? Emmeline came back to where he stood and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Remus, what's wrong?" she asked, trying to look in his eyes.
He finally looked away from the dusty floor to her eyes. He opened his mouth to tell her everything and to apologize profusely, but he couldn't do it. "Honestly, it's nothing," he said, placing his arms around her waist. "Get some rest, hmm? I'll see you in the morning." Normally, he would have kissed her good night, but he only released her, muttered a half-hearted good night, and went down the hall to his own room. Before he closed the door, he saw her looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a completely confused look on her face.
Sirius entered Number Twelve just past dawn the next morning. He hadn't intended to come back, but Minister Bones had found out he'd been sleeping in his office, and said that if he didn't leave and get at least eight hours of decent sleep, she'd suspend him from the Ministry without pay.
He staggered exhaustedly up the stairs, hoping to slip into his room without waking anybody. Remus was likely to give him an earful for not returning the previous night, and he really wasn't in the mood for it.
He'd received a transfer request earlier the previous day from an Auror in Australia. Rufus Scrimgeour had been passed-up by Mad-Eye for Sirius' job seven years ago, and as a protest to the appointment, had moved to Australia. Sirius had known Scrimgeour during his first stint in the Ministry before his arrest. While the other wizard was a brilliant Auror, Sirius couldn't stand him. He was too politically oriented and Sirius couldn't think of any benefits for him in returning to England. He'd probably heard about Kingsley's death and was hoping to become Sirius' next second-in-command.
"Fat chance," Sirius muttered to himself, changing into his pajamas.
He glanced into his mirror and wasn't surprised to see how horrible he looked right now. He desperately needed to shave, and his eyes were bloodshot and puffy. Not to mention he hadn't had a decent meal in two weeks. Sighing heavily, he turned from the mirror and staggered to his bed. Lacking even the strength to pull down the blankets, he collapsed into bed, falling asleep almost immediately.
Remus poked his head in to check on Sirius later in the morning. He covered Sirius with a throw blanket, charmed the window's curtains to block out all sunlight, leaving the room in total darkness, and placed a silencing charm around the room. Sirius needed lots of rest, and the only way he would sleep all day was if there was nothing to wake him.
"Sleep well, Padfoot," Remus said quietly before closing the door.