Disclaimer: Harry Potter and co. are not mine. And never will be. Unfortunately.
Pairing: SB/RL slash be warned (though if you haven't gotten that by now…)
Warnings: overabundance of sappiness?
Notes: Catclaw is my beta. Catclaw rocks my socks. 'Cause she's cool like that. This is short, but sweet. So this was posted later than I expected. But I just had THE WORST day ever. And the week is not going to get better. So leave some love. I need something happy right now. Ironic considering the tone of the chapter. Feedbacklove!
THIS CHAPTER: Harry gets a letter, Ron gets a book (!), and Remus gets a backrub (and gives Sirius an explanation)

Chapter 6

Making the decision to have a child—it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking outside your body.
-Elizabeth Stone

Harry,

I know you must be really confused about everything right now, and I wish I had answers that I could give you. You are probably very tired of hearing that. Know that throughout everything, I have wanted nothing more than to give you those answers. You have always been at the front of my heart. You probably doubt this—and you have every right to; I was never very good at displaying how much I care. I often have to remind myself of the reasons why I was never there for you, why I did not attempt to steal you away from the Dursleys'; but the truth is those reasons are not really reasons at all. I was—am—weak, plain and simple. What I ask of you now is to give me a chance to redeem myself. I'm asking you to believe in me, when I have never believed in myself.

Sirius has always said that I best express my feelings through writing. He said I was a walking mirror, a reflection of what people wanted to see or what they thought they should see. When I wrote something down, however, I unleashed the "sap of a poet" I truly was. So when he expressed his concern that we were not as close as we should be, we agreed that I will try to rectify this through letters. At the very least, you might gain some insight into where you came from.

I asked Sirius where he thought I should start, and he told me to start at the beginning. An obvious answer, but not quite as simple. There are many beginnings in your history, in our history. So I think I'll start at the moment I first met you.

Did you know that I was the very first person to hold you in this world? Not James, and not Sirius—though he wishes more than anything he had been. You were born two days early—quite an irony in light of the prophecy, but I don't want to talk about that right now. The weather wasn't stormy, or ominous, or overly beautiful. There was nothing notable about that day except that you decided to come into the world. Your father and Sirius were off on a mission of sorts, I'm still not certain what exactly they were doing. James's famous last words were: "I'll only be gone for a few days, Lils. I'll be back home in plenty of time." Ha. They ended up delayed… for a week.

Anyway, I agreed to stay at the Potters' in order to keep Lily company. She was quite the nervous wreck. One afternoon, she was reading in bed and I was researching something in the library—probably something completely dismal—when Lily shouted for me. The stubborn woman had been in labor the entire morning, but didn't realize it and didn't want to concern me with "a few aches and pains". By the time she told me, she was in too much pain to want to leave the bed. I, being the calm, collected and responsible one of the group, called for Mum. Seriously.

My mother was a Healer. She went into semi-retirement after my… accident; she became a midwife for the local families. Well, she arrived in a split second and took charge of the situation. I owled Dumbledore, who attempted to contact your father. I heard it was quite an adventure; you'll have to ask him about it some time. Anyway, I stayed in the bedroom to assist my mother. I followed her around when I was younger, and knew more than many Healers about childbirth. I had wanted to become a Healer until the consequences of my condition fully hit me. Someone with my problem could never enter that profession.

I suppose that's why I ended up in the middle of everything. My mother realized that it would be the only opportunity I would ever have to fulfill a childhood dream. So I was the one that ended up welcoming you. As I cleaned you up and checked you over, you screamed your little heart out. It was the most wonderful sound I've ever had the pleasure of hearing.

Your mother was absolutely brilliant at charms—I'm pretty sure you've heard that. What you don't know is that her second love was Herbology. I never grasped why; she had better grades in other subjects. She once told me that working with plants, coaxing a seedling to grow, was the ultimate magic. She may have been a 'lowly Muggle-born' in the eyes of certain purebloods, but she had a stronger grasp of what magic was than they could ever hope to have. When I gave you to her to hold for the first time, I finally understood.

Throughout my experiences as an aide to my mother, I had seen many women give birth. It always struck me as to how much strength and courage it took. But looking at Lily, when she looked at you, I finally got it. All of those women, they all knew that creating life, bringing a person into existence, is the strongest, purest magic there is. The moment Lily saw you, she was the most beautiful I had ever seen her—despite a long, tedious labor, sweaty skin, and greasy hair.

I think that's what you really need to understand, Harry. I'm sure you've had moments of despair, when you thought it was all your fault that your parents died. It is not your fault. What I learned that day is what parenthood really means. James and Lily made a decision; they decided to create a child and bring it into the world. From the moment your parents made that decision, everything was changed. James was no longer the James I knew from Hogwarts. Lily was no longer Lily. I'm sure you've heard that you were the center of their world. The truth is, especially in Lily's case, you were their world. James not so much, I think, because he felt an obligation to protect both you and Lily. He was not the one to carry you for nine months. I assume it's that mother-child bond that no one has ever been able to explain. You were everything to your mother the moment you were conceived. I saw it in her eyes the moment she first saw you. So, you see, James and Lily died that day because not doing so would have been like killing themselves. And they didn't really die that day; they are living on through you.

Ah, now see, I've completely deviated from the topic and gotten us all choked up. However, it was something that needed to be said. I don't think you receive enough support from the adults in your life. I need you to remember this, Harry—you are loved. Sirius and I do care for you. We care for you so much. Now I need for you to have faith in me. I believe, though it is hard to explain, that Sirius is not dead. Everything I am doing now is all part of bringing him back to life.

I'm afraid I must end my letter now. Not only am I running out of parchment, but I have a strong suspicion that it is going to rain any moment, and I need to find some shelter. Share whatever you want with Ron and Hermione. Tell them everything in this letter, tell them nothing. Just keep talking to them. Friends are the most important part of life, but unfortunately too few people realize that until after they are lost.

-Remus

P.S. I'm certain Dumbledore will be dying to know—I'm in Hawaii.

It seemed like ages had passed since Harry had sat on his bed and began to read the letter. Tears had begun to fall halfway through, and now he was outright sobbing. He did not care that Ron could walk in any moment. He no longer cared that he was almost sixteen, and certainly too old to cry. Lupin's words had, in one swift movement, ripped off the bandage that Harry had spent his entire life developing to protect the deepest parts of himself. Years of anger and sorrow were now flowing like blood down his cheeks and onto his lap. It was not his fault. He could feel it all unwinding in his stomach; a hard knot of despair that he hadn't even realized he had been holding inside.

When the sobs finally died down and the tears had dried up, Harry was too drained to move. He lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. For the first time in many months, Harry's mind was completely blank. If Voldemort himself burst through the door with a dozen Death Eaters, Harry felt he could take them. However, he also felt that even the slightest breeze might carry him off.

He hadn't realized how much he needed to see those words from an adult—from someone who understood, and actually, truly believed them. And if Lupin said that his parents' death was not his fault, then Sirius's death couldn't be either. They had all died protecting him because they loved him. Armed with this new knowledge, Harry felt ready to take on the world. Or, at least, Mrs. Weasley.

He arrived in the kitchen just as the others were cleaning up from lunch. They all paused when he walked into the room, but he said nothing. Harry belatedly realized that he must look a mess, with puffy, red eyes and rumpled hair. After a moment's thought, he decided he could care less and stole a sandwich. On his way out the door, he paused by Mrs. Weasley. "He's in Hawaii." As quickly as he entered, Harry left.

It became a routine for the next few weeks. Every other day, usually around breakfast, another letter would arrive for Harry from Lupin. He wrote about Harry's parents and how they adored him. Several times he also included an episode from the Marauders' school days. Harry would share with Ron and Hermione those stories, but kept the ones about his parents to himself. Every letter would contain some bit of advice or piece of encouragement about Voldemort, the prophecy, mortality, school, or (in one rather embarrassing letter) girls.

Occasionally Harry would build enough courage to snag whatever bird Lupin was using at the moment and send a letter in response. He asked about some of the most random things, like what Quidditch team his father supported. It was in this way that Harry became acquainted with his parents and their friends. James and Lily Potter were fleshed out and animated with cherry-flavored lipstick, cheap detective novels, tiramisu, and Christmas trees. He even found out about Lupin's predilection for big band music, fresh December snow, and Shiny-things-that-exist-solely-for-Annoying-Sirius-Black. Remus also had a rather wicked sense of humor.

Every time, Lupin would send some gift to Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny—or some combination of the four—that completely amazed them. They were usually small things that he had found during his travels. One time Ron got a fang hanging from a gold chain. Lupin directed Ron to a book in his old room with a section on the creature that the fang came from. Hermione was shocked to see Ron entirely absorbed in a book for a whole day. After he read about Twidgets and their magical teeth, Ron decided to read about another Dark Creature. Soon, it was hard to find Ron without the fang hanging from his neck and the book by Professors Knight and Dae clutched in one hand.

Remus often gave hints (or outright stated) where he was currently located. It frustrated Dumbledore to no end that by the time an Order member arrived there, Lupin had long since departed. Hermione put a map of the world over the Black family tapestry and placed a pin over every place Lupin had been. "It's a perfect opportunity to brush up on our geography," she had said when Ron asked about it. Sometimes the letters and gifts would appear on the kitchen table before breakfast. It irritated Dumbledore that Remus could slip in and out of Grimmauld without alerting anyone to his presence.

They tracked him from Hawaii to France, Nepal to Egypt, Sweden to Italy. Often they would discuss his movements during dinner, much to Mrs. Weasley's displeasure. Harry was delighted that Hermione, Ron, and Ginny shared his belief that there was more to Remus's breakdown than insanity. In his letters, Lupin appeared entirely normal. The only thing that was out of place was his frequent mentions of Sirius.

"He must have a purpose for all of this," Ginny said one afternoon a week before his birthday. "I don't see how he would just abandon the Order if it wasn't for a good reason."

Hermione looked up from the map. "He must be looking for something. Or somethings."

"Like what?" Ron asked from the couch.

"I don't know. Maybe something to prove that he isn't crazy."

Harry moved to look out the window. "What if… what if he is seeing Sirius for a reason? What if Sirius isn't really dead?" He hadn't told them what Remus had written during that first letter. He sometimes wondered whether or not he believed it himself.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione sighed. "We know you loved Sirius, and Sirius loved you. But he's dead, Harry. You have to let go."

Harry turned around to face them all. "I know he's not alive," he said stubbornly. "But what if he's not dead?"

No one answered him. After that afternoon, Harry would frequently find one of them staring at the map, deep in thought.

Remus folded the list up and placed it back into his rucksack. There were only two more items left for the spell, but they were the most difficult to obtain. With a sigh, he propped himself against a tree and gazed at the fire. He felt old—far older than he should. The last three weeks were enjoyable; he got to see some old friends as well as travel the world with the man he loved. However, the aching in his leg was increasing each day he was wandering. It had been a full moon night two days ago, and he was still feeling twinges in his muscles. He tried not to jump as Sirius placed a hand on his shoulder. Remus hadn't even seen him approach.

"Still sore, Moony?" Before Remus could respond, Sirius had negotiated himself behind him. Sirius was warmer and more comfortable than the tree, so he had no complaints. With practiced ease, Sirius began to massage the werewolf's shoulders.

"We're almost done." He leant further into Sirius's hands.

"That's a relief. As much as I like the traveling, I'd like to inflict my presence on others."

Remus chuckled. "Tired of me already, Padfoot?"

"Never," Sirius said soberly. "I'll never be tired of you."

Remus couldn't speak over the lump in his throat, so he settled with placing his hand over Sirius's. The only sound for a while was the crackling of the fire. He wished that they could spend the night in a hotel, but it was too dangerous with the Order still searching for him.

"I was wondering…" Sirius's voice was unnaturally hesitant.

"Hmm?" Remus closed his eyes.

"I was wondering if you meant all those things you said, back at Grimmauld. About betrayal."

"Did you mean everything you said?" Sirius was suddenly very silent and still. Remus squeezed his hand in apology. "I think to some extent I did."

Sirius made to withdraw his hands, but Remus tightened his grip on the one he was holding.

"I was angry at you Sirius. And hurt. Of course I said things that I did not actually mean." Remus sighed softly. "However, some of it was based on truth. You are a Black, Sirius, no matter how much you try to deny it. But you have taken everything you've inherited and made it into something good, something positive. The arrogance, the attitude, the stubbornness… you've made it into a passion for life and a loyalty to the ones you love. You do have your faults and you have made some mistakes, but they are part of why I love you."

He turned around in Sirius's embrace and cupped Sirius's face, pressing their foreheads together.

"You are the only person that can make me that angry. You are also the only person that I could ever love beyond reason. Do you see?" He put a hand over Sirius's heart and placed one of Sirius's hands over his own. "We work. You and I see everything about each other. We know the worst parts of us and the best parts. I have seen your faults, Sirius, but they could never make me love you less."

Sirius's sigh was nearly a sob. "You're not a monster, Remus. I've never believed that. You are the most human of us all…"

"…I just need to open up more. I know." He bumped his nose with Sirius's. "And you're not heartless."

"I just need to work on thinking before acting." Sirius's smile was weak, but genuine. "Do you think that's why we stopped trusting each other… before?"

"Perhaps."

"Things will get better." His voice was more confident than the look in his eyes.

"Yes, they will. This past year wasn't the best, but I think we know what went wrong there."

"I don't care what else happens anymore, as long as we're a family. I can be locked up forever. I just need you and Harry."

"Don't say that," Remus said sternly. He eased the tone with a kiss. "We will be a family, but I refuse to leave you in that house." He wearily turned around again, and Sirius continued his massage.

Due to his unusual state of existence, Sirius did not get tired or hungry. They had decided early on that he would stand watch all night while Remus slept. That night, Remus felt completely safe as he drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the protective arms of the one he loved.