Title: The Path That I Chose

Rating: "T", I suppose

Summary: AU, not slash. Half explanation, half suicide note. Remus sends Sirius a letter. "So it was quite simple to do, really. A wonderfully plausible story. And it should be: after all, it only contains one lie..."

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If this is in any way surprising to you, then, well, you haven't been doing this very long, have you? ;

Notes: Not entirely sure how I got this idea. But probably it's been done. Ah well. It's nice to have something I can finish for once. XX Ask me about my kajillion-pages-long Lupin fic. I'll ask you which one you mean. XX

Not slash, mainly 'cos I tend to very carefully exclude neither possibility and let people read it however they want to. Cowardly, I know. ;

Oh, and in case anyone asks (though I can't imagine they would), this is a total one-shot, because a.) I've got enough on my plate already and b.) I have no inspiration for a sequel. Should, however, anyone else want to do one, I wouldn't mind. Might even read it. ;

(-)

Dear Sirius,

If you have gotten this letter, this means that you are out of Azkaban. Knowing the Ministry, they'll probably have chucked you out into the rain with your robes, your wand, and not a second word. Bad enough for them to have made a mistake; they'll have already suffered the indignity of admitting it to themselves, so they certainly won't compound it by admitting it to you. Then again, they'll be nicer to purebloods. So maybe they'll have told you something. But they won't have told you all of it. And I think you should know. So let me tell you what's happened.

A few days ago, a very junior official at the Ministry of Magic got a very interesting letter. It was from me. I sent it to her because I've heard she's a psychotic, paranoid "half-breed"-hating bitch, and therefore, ironically, most likely to believe what I said.

But let me tell you what was in that letter. That letter said that you had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper-- until, at the last moment, you persuaded them to switch to Peter instead. Peter was, after all, the least likely to be entrusted with the task (excepting, for the moment, me). It said that Peter, who had always sought the protection of power, sought the protection of whom he thought was the greatest power in the land-- Lord Voldemort. It said that it had Peter Pettigrew was the one who betrayed Lily and James to Voldemort, and thus, ironically, caused his Lord's end.

It said that you, of course, had realized this, being the only one alive who could. It said that you hunted Peter down, fully intending to avenge your best friend's murder-- but Peter, an unregistered Animagus, escaped by killing a city block of Muggles, cutting off his own finger, and escaping into the sewers.

Of course, no one would listen to this. After all, they didn't when you told them. You did tell them, right? You didn't just sit there and say nothing or, worse, just laugh crazily or some other such nonsense. Well, it doesn't matter anymore.

But Umbridge listened, because I didn't open the letter by telling her that. I opened the letter by telling her that I was a werewolf, and I had killed Peter Pettigrew. Then I told the story.

You don't know the rest of the story. Though hopefully you're starting to guess.

I wrote that I had been a friend of yours, through all our old school days, until Lily and James had their child. This brought the formerly reckless James back to his senses. Neither he nor Lily wanted me anywhere near their child. Oh, of course, they'd let me in, even let me hold him, but always one of them would be watching me, with that familiar fear in their eyes that they'd never had before. I wrote that since there was no one on earth who didn't think I was a Dark Creature, I had no reason to hold myself back, and gave in to my violent, inexpungable lupine tendencies, becoming a servant of Lord Voldemort.

I told her that Lily and James had never trusted me with anything after Harry was born, which was the only reason I couldn't tell Voldemort of their location before. Everyone's mistrust of me, I wrote, made me of no great value of him.

But then Peter came in, with his Holy Grail.

Of course, I didn't know that at first, I told her. For a day or so, I thought you did it. But then I met a fleeing Death Eater who was furious at Peter's "betrayal". Who would have killed him if he could have found him.

But I knew how to find him. This is the part that's true. I helped write the Marauder's Map, after all, and Peter, stupid Peter, had never dreamed I'd ever think to try to find him.

He was trying to get out of the country when I caught up to him. I confronted him. Got him to tell me everything that had happened. Don't turn me in, he begged me. They all hate me now-- they think I betrayed them. Even in Azkaban, they'll find a way to kill me. Don't turn me in to them.

I acquiesced calmly enough. After all, I was always the peaceful, reasonable one. He probably thought I might actually let him go.

Still, he's in my debt. The death I gave him was far easier than death at the hands of Voldemort's followers would have been.

So it was quite simple to do, really. A wonderfully plausible story. And it should be: after all, it only contains one lie.

So I told her I'd killed him for betraying Our Great Lord and Bastard, and even told her what I'd done with the body. I told her I was writing this to gloat, since I'd be out of the country before the week was over.

I'm sure she was quite delighted when she found I'd been detained by Muggles after an incident in a bar. Probably berated me for understimating Muggle ingenuity, the hypocritical little bitch. They'll have gotten my wand; it will be easy for them to see that the Killing Curse was the last spell it performed. That will be all the proof they need, and more.

I will be dead by the time you get this letter. And I imagine it won't have been an easy way to go.

Which leads to the question, why am I telling you this? I'll have to pause while I figure it out for myself.

Part of it, I'll admit, is pure and simple spite. I'm not proud of it, but I won't deny it anymore. Because you all called me your friend so readily, and still never quite could stop believing that I was a dangerous Dark creature, one that could turn violent at any moment. Lily and James always hugged Harry a little tighter when I was around. You looked at me and I could see the suspicion in your eyes. And you just kept telling me that everything was fine!

"No, Remus. We don't suspect you. We'd never suspect you. We know you better than that."

Or, the other promise I so foolishly believed, "We'll never betray you, Remus. After all, you'd never betray us."

I could have dealt with your mistrust if you didn't have to lie about it.

But that isn't all of it. Partly, I suppose I just want someone to know I didn't do it. Even if it doesn't matter. Even if I forbid you from ever telling anyone else. I want you to know what I did. Even though I know I shouldn't. I should just let you think I deserved to die.

Then again, thinking I'd betrayed you probably wouldn't have been any easier, anyway. And probably you'd have figured it out on your own.

Unless you decided it was easier to not ask questions.

All this hate... it's not just hate. The hate is strong because it's not all hate. It's because I am still your friend, even if the reciprocal isn't true. I could not let you rot in Azkaban when I knew I could do something to prevent it.

Part of it is I'm just so goddamn tired of all of this. Of the mistrust. Of the prejudice. Of those monthly transformations that were going to kill me before my time, anyway. I could've stayed free, in a life where no one trusted me, I couldn't find work, and all my friends were gone-- one by my own hand.

I didn't see any point to that life anymore.

But that's what I've now inflicted upon you, and I apologize. You are the last of the Marauders, Sirius. You're the last one standing. The burden I could not bear to face on top of everything else now belongs to you.

But you can handle it, if you will. I probably could have too, under other circumstances. But you were always stronger than me.

You will continue. You will make a new life. You won't look back on these days too often. Because you'd dissapoint James. Because little Harry needs you.

And, maybe, because I asked you to.

Know that I don't hate you for fearing me; I probably would have too. I forgive you for all of your mistrust, because I know I didn't trust you all of the time, either. Know that the Ministry would have done this to me for killing Peter even if I hadn't told them that story. Or, the way they're going, would have done it to me eventually even if they never knew. Know that I chose this path, and I don't regret a second of it. I had to lie to get the truth out, but at least it set you free.

I'll forgive you if you'll forgive me.

And when you cross beyond that veil, we'll be waiting for you there. Because I won't believe that anything that is loved can ever truly die.

Keep an eye on Harry. Have fun. Raise a little hell. Try to counteract the damage I'll have done to werewolves' reputation if you have time.

And I can't find any words that seem right at all to end this with, but I think you'll understand.

You always did, in the end.

-Remus