***Well my dear friends, we've arrived at that fateful Halloween. This chapter is long - the longest of the fic, in fact - and taxing on the heart. Pace yourselves. When you've finished, think back to the good times of chapter one. Remember that James and Lily were and are so, SO loved.

***On a lighter note, I've always had so many questions about this sequence and the lost 24 hours, none of which I addressed in my writing (oops). Like, a charm on the house told Dumbledore something had happened, but how did he know Harry had lived and needed to be picked up? Can you say nanny cam? Also, how does Hagrid arrive on the scene so fast if he can't use advanced magic/apparate? Did he Floo to their house? How did he fit in the fireplace? Just stuff to think about.

*TW: Violence; Death; Descriptions of murder.

*Lines of dialogue in italics are directly from the descriptions of this night in the original book series.

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Ch. 50 - Dust to Dust

Oct. 31, 1981

James fell.

Lily begged.

Peter ran.

Sirius laughed.

Emmeline cried.

Remus couldn't breathe.

James - 10:36pm

"And Potter has dodged the bludger! He bypasses the opposing chaser, swerves around mum, he's headed for the goal posts folks, and...GOAL! Ten points to Gryffindor!"

Harry chortled as he tumbled into the floating laundry basket lined with pillows.

Lily promptly fished him out, kissed him all over, and put him back on his toy broom. Single-player little league Quidditch had become a nightly routine at the Potter household. It was the only way they could tucker Harry out enough to get him to fall asleep, and just about the only thing keeping James sane under house arrest.

"Potter's back out on the pitch! Triumphant as ever," James commentated as he levitated the laundry basket about the room with Harry chasing after it. Teach 'em while they're young.

"What if he isn't a chaser? Will you be disappointed?" Lily asked teasingly.

"Don't tell Sirius, but I'll only be disappointed if he grows up to be a keeper- Ah, Potter narrowly misses the goal, but he's right back after it ladies and gents!"

"What if he plays for another house?"

James shot her a facetiously skeptical look. "He's going to be on the Gryffindor team, and we'll be in the stands at every single match."

"And what if he doesn't end up playing Quidditch at all?"

"Potter and his Ol' Pop decide to ignore that hateful comment from mummy, and...GOAL!"

Harry squealed in delight as he tumbled once more into the basket.

Lily retrieved him from the hamper. "Okay, it's well past his bedtime so Quidditch practice will have to resume tomorrow."

"It's Halloween," whined James. "He should be allowed to stay up on Halloween, don't you think?"

"He doesn't even know what Halloween is, and if he misses his nap tomorrow, we'll both be sorry."

James looked at Harry, whose eyes were already heavy with sleep as he sat upon Lily's hip. The kid was getting big. "Your smart and beautiful mum makes a fair point." He set down his wand and got up to kiss his wife and son. "I'll tidy up here and be up soon."

"Say 'night night Daddy,'" Lily cooed to the baby, but he was already halfway to dreamland. Lily shrugged and kissed James one last time before heading towards the stairs.

James circled back around to return the cushions to the sofa, but something out the living room window caught his eye.

A cloaked figure had just come through the gate.

James' heart started pounding. "Lily," he breathed.

She'd almost reached the stairs when she heard him and turned back around.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off —"

James bolted to meet the intruder in the entryway just as the door blew down.

He reached for his wand, but it wasn't on him.

It was still on the living room sofa.

In his final moment, James met Voldemort's eyes and stood up straight.

A green flash.

And then,

James fell.

Lily - 10:44pm

Thud.

When the sound reached her ears, Lily's hand flew to her mouth.

She dare not call out his name.

She listened and heard nothing; no James - just the creaking of the staircase.

Lily reached for her pocket, but-

Her wand was still downstairs in the living room.

She clutched Harry in her arms, her grip around him stiffening like some sick, early-onset rigor mortis. Since the day of his birth, she'd felt the most at ease when she was holding him; when she could feel his small weight against her chest. It was as if his weight had become a natural part of her own, and when she wasn't holding onto him, her center of gravity seemed too light. Yet now, even in her embrace, Harry was not safe. For the first time, Lily was petrified that her arms may not be enough to protect him. Even so, she did not want to let him go.

But she was running out of time. She could hear footsteps approaching down the hall.

Harry started to cry from all the commotion. She realized that he was crying because she had begun to cry. Silent tears for her husband streamed down the spot on her cheek he'd kissed not five minutes prior.

"It's okay, my darling, It's alright," she whimpered, as she agonizingly pried him from her arms and set him down in his crib. Harry resisted being let go of, and it hurt Lily all the more to watch him reach back up for her as soon as his feet hit the mattress. My God, she wanted him to grow up. She wanted him to skin his knees and make mistakes and eat desserts at Christmas and fall so in love that it kept him up at night. She wanted more than anything to see him grow up, but if she couldn't have that, she still wanted him to be able to do all those things without her.

Perhaps her arms could still protect him one last time, if only for a moment.

Lily looked at her son; her beautiful, baby boy that looked so much like his father, sucked in a sharp breath, and spread her arms out to block the crib as the door flew open.

She hardly flinched as he glided in. The blood-red irises in the slits that were meant to be his eyes narrowed at the incredulity of this unarmed, mudblood girl thinking she stood any chance of preventing the inevitable. It amused him so much, he even began to laugh. She'd get out of his way, or she'd go down like her husband. Judging by the blaze in her own eyes, he knew fairly quickly that Severus' request would not hold.

She wasn't ready, but she'd die before she let him hurt her son.

She wasn't ready.

But she would die. Then what would be left to stop him?

Nothing. Nobody.

So Lily did what any mother would do.

Lily begged.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

"Stand aside you silly girl … stand aside now."

Lily had never begged for anything in her life.

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead– "

Begging felt like a defeat.

"Not Harry! Please … have mercy … have mercy… "

But it was all she had left as Voldemort raised his wand.

Peter - 10:53pm

He'd seen three green flashes, the last of which had just blown a great gaping hole in the roof of the cottage. Peter nearly jumped out of his skin, snagging his coat on the bush he was surveilling from.

He heard the baby crying.

...How could that have been?

He hadn't told the Master he was coming. He'd just wanted to make sure it was done properly. If it wasn't done properly, James Potter would surely find him and kill him, and this dreadful ordeal will have been for nothing.

If he went in to inspect the house now and the Master saw him, he'd be furious...the Master had insisted on doing this alone.

The baby was still crying.

Peter crawled around to the other side of the bush to see if it gave him a better view of the window. The lights were on downstairs, but he couldn't see anybody moving around the interior.

Perhaps the Master was taking his time with it, perhaps he just wanted to savor it a bit. Peter didn't really want to think about this. He just wanted to know if it had all gone according to plan. If it hadn't, James would have his head on a pike before the night was through.

Still, the baby cried.

Peter began to chew on his fingernails. Maybe he'd just go to the window to check before any muggles came 'round.

Even the rustling of the bush as he heaved himself out from behind it spooked him. Cautiously, he inched towards the cottage, let himself through the gate, and poked his head into the gaping hole which used to contain the front door.

James Potter lay motionless on the floor.

Peter stared at the body, holding his breath until he was absolutely sure James was no longer a threat. Peter thought not of their school days; thought not of times in the dormitory when this man had him laughing so hard, he could scarcely breathe; thought not of the map or the shack or the forest. At least...he tried not to. At the forefront of his mind was this:

"What a relief."

The baby was still crying. It was the only sound in the house at all. He couldn't hear the woman, nor could he hear his master's voice.

Holding his breath again, he stepped over James on his way to the stairs.

The baby's room was at the end of the hall to the right. The door was wide open, but there seemed to be no lights on.

Still, the baby cried.

Careful not to make noise lest he disturb the Master's task, he tip-toed to the doorway and peered in.

The woman lay in a crumpled position on the floor, her eyes vacant.

The baby sobbed from its crib. A drop of blood trickled down its forehead from a cut above its brow.

But the Master was nowhere to be found. Only his empty cloak remained on the floor.

How could that have been?

"M-...Master?"

Peter prodded the cloak. He felt something solid underneath and unburied it.

The Master's wand.

Peter ran.

Sirius - 11:11pm

The bike came to a screeching halt outside the front gate.

Sirius couldn't care less if any muggles saw him; right now, that was the least of his concerns. Peter hadn't met him when he said he would, and his hovel was too tidy. Something was wrong. He needed to check on Lily and James.

He could see the house; see that the front door had been blasted clean off.

The enchantment was broken.

Sirius sprinted toward the entryway where he nearly ran face-first into Rubeus Hagrid.

"Sirius? What're yeh-"

"Where are they? What's-..." He noticed Hagrid holding on to Harry, all swaddled up in a blanket from the crib. He was bouncing him up and down as Harry hiccuped, his little face red and puffy. Sirius reached out to examine a cut along Harry's forehead.

Why was Hagrid carrying the baby? Unless...

"...Where are James and Lily…"

Hagrid sniffled. "They're-"

Sirius did not wait for his response before pushing past him and barreling through the entryway right into the fabric of his worst nightmare.

James Potter, his very best friend, his brother...

Sirius scrambled down to the floor and seized James' limp body in his arms, cradling him and tapping his ashen cheek. "Prongs...N-...no-," he sputtered, choking on the words. James...you-JAMES! Please no, please- someone- please, no..."

But James was gone. His eyes held a great nothingness in them. His skin was cold.

And in that moment, something deep inside of Sirius shattered.

He pulled James against himself and began rocking back and forth as terrible, ear-splitting sobs ripped from his throat. "NO! NO! Someone-SOMEONE HELP ME! JAMES!..."

This was all wrong. It was supposed to be him. It should've been him. If he'd died, the world could've gone on turning. Until James, Sirius had never had a family, not really. James was his family, just about his only family left, and his death knocked Sirius' entire world off its axis. Time stopped.

He caught sight of the wedding ring.

Sirius siphoned his sobs so that he could holler a one-word question over his shoulder to Hagrid. "Lily?"

"...Upstairs."

"...Is she…?"

Hagrid nodded.

"No," Sirius wheezed, before breaking out into another sob.

Amid shuddering breaths, Sirius gently lay James back down and waved a trembling hand over his hazel eyes, closing them so that he could rest. "Love you, mate," he whimpered as his own teas fell upon James' pale cheeks.

Against his better judgment, he hurried up the stairs. When he reached the doorway to Harry's nursery, the first thing he saw before he rounded the corner was a lock of auburn hair strewn across the floor.

Lily Potter, his beacon of everything good…

Another scream tore from his chest cavity, and he staggered into the doorframe. "Lily- God- no. Not you, not you too..."

Sirius dropped to his knees and sobbed. "I'm sorry," he moaned, lightly smoothing the hair from her face and caressing her cheek as her once ablazen green eyes stared blankly back at him. "I'm sorry Lily, I'm so sorry…"

The wreckage felt frigid and desolate, as if a tremendous, warm light had gone out from the world. Sirius feared he may never feel warm ever again. He felt a great darkness encroaching on everything. Not only had his world come off its axis; his stars had been extinguished.

He caught sight of the pearl.

As softly as he could, he reached around the back of her neck and undid the clasp of the necklace before sticking it in one of his jacket pockets; there was someone he had to give this to. Sirius bent down to kiss her cheek for the last time, lingering for a moment and leaning his forehead against her icy, colorless skin. He wondered if he'd ever be able to pull himself up off the floor…

But he had to pull himself up.

His godson was downstairs.

His godson was still alive. He didn't know how, and he didn't know what had become of Voldemort, but his godson was still alive.

And he needed him.

He darted back down the stairs in search of Hagrid, relieved that he had allowed him some time to grieve instead of making a quick escape with the baby. "I'll take Harry," Sirius almost demanded, wiping the tears from his cheeks with his forearm.

"I'm on strict orders from Dumbledore to bring 'im to Lily's sister in Surrey."

Sirius' lips curled disappointedly. "Who- Petunia? No, the woman's a nightmare. Please, Hagrid, I'm- I'm meant to be his guardian-"

"I can't give 'im to yeh, I'm sorry."

Sirius was dangerously close to drawing his wand.

"I'm his godfather!" he shrieked.

His outburst caused Hagrid to protectively clutch Harry tighter. "And they're 'is blood family."

Blood family. What a stupid, oxymoronic term.

Sirius clenched his fists. "Blood doesn't mean a thing," he spat. "Please, let me look after him. James and Lily…" But his voice cracked as their names triggered a lump in his throat which blocked the rest of his sentence.

"I'm sorry Sirius, you know I 'ave to follow Dumbledore's orders."

Sirius hung his head as the tears started up again. First James and Lily, and now Harry was being taken from him. He knew of Petunia - from what he'd heard, she was like the human version of a bludger to the nose. Sirius was secretly hopeful that she'd refuse to take Harry in, then Dumbledore would have no choice but to let him take the baby. James and Lily had charged him with this.

"I don't understand," Hagrid continued, his watery eyes drifting back to the house. "I don't understand how this could've happened."

But all at once, Sirius understood.

He knew exactly how this had happened.

Peter hadn't met him when he said he would.

Peter was the only one who knew.

And Sirius had been the one to suggest the arrangement.

Not Remus, but Peter. This whole time.

Rage brought his blood to a boil. Change of plans.

"Hagrid, take my bike. Take my bike and get Harry to his aunt's straightaway."

"...Me? Take yer bike?"

"Yes," he insisted, leading him towards it. "All you've got to do is turn the key, then press that button there to get her airborne. This one next to it will activate the concealment function." He shoved the keys into Hagrid's gargantuan palm.

"What about you?"

"I won't need it anymore."

Sirius reached towards Harry's bundle and caressed a tuft of his hair before disapparating, leaving Hagrid with the bike, the baby, and many questions.

November 1, 1981

Sirius - 8:33am

He was going to kill him.

It had taken him less than a second to make up his mind once he'd realized.

He was going to kill Peter Pettigrew.

The procedural prats at the Ministry would give him a cell in Azkaban with some dementors to keep him company, and that wasn't enough. Sirius wanted to tear the man's skin off in strips. He wanted to boil Peter's legs and make him watch. He wanted to rip each one of his organs out over the course of several hours and save the vital ones for last.

No, he couldn't let the Ministry get a hold of him. He had to do it himself. Properly.

"PETTIGREW!"

Sirius nearly knocked over a suited woman with a briefcase as he sprinted down the London street, hurdling over idle cars in the chase. Several muggles on their way to work stopped and stared at the dark haired man as he ran, shouting and holding what appeared to be a wooden rod.

His apparent target had been waiting for him. He had chosen this spot on purpose.

Black squared off with Pettigrew in the middle of the road, earning them both honks from oncoming cars. Peter cowered, sniveling as usual, with one hand behind his back and the other outstretched trying to keep Sirius at bay. But before he closed in on his prey, Sirius had one, final question:

"WHY!?"

Peter did not answer this. Instead, he faked tears, yelping: "How could you betray James and Lily, your own best friends?!"

BOOM.

Sirius wasn't given any time to respond as a giant explosion threw him back against the exterior of a nearby building.

His ears were ringing as he pushed himself up, and as a result, he couldn't hear much; but he could see: several muggles were screaming, and three cars had been destroyed with people still trapped inside of them. Bodies littered the ground from a blasting curse that had blown a cavernous hole into the asphalt of the street.

In his daze, Sirius realized he had made a fatal error: he'd grossly underestimated Pettigrew. The slimy son of a bitch had concocted his own perfect plan, and executed it expertly.

Impressive.

When the smoke cleared, a single, severed finger lay at Sirius' feet.

Sirius laughed.

Emmeline - 10:17 pm

In the past, Emmeline had usually looked forward to Halloween. Her years at Hogwarts had certainly raised her expectations for the frivolity of the holiday. Unfortunately, this year, yesterday had felt more ominous than anything.

That incessant knot in her stomach remained, and had only been worsened by Remus' strange phone call, even six days later. After she'd sent him a patronus per Remus' request, she had scribbled out a letter asking Dumbledore if everything was alright. She'd never gotten a response.

Surely if something catastrophic had happened to Remus or James or Lily, Dumbledore would have informed her immediately, so she told herself no news was good news.

She'd been sat by the kitchen window all evening like she had the night before, when she lived vicariously through passersby in costume and children going trick-or-treating; only tonight, the street was empty. She'd seen a few fireworks go off, and attributed it to people getting rid of the rest of their Halloween paraphernalia. Other than that, it had been a quiet day inside the little flat, just like the day before and the day before that. Unless she got the go-ahead to leave the premises, it would likely be a quiet few months. She could keep herself mildly occupied with reading, but even with her nose in Great Expectations, she was acutely aware of the loneliness and the knot - and the paper was out of the question for the time being; without Remus here, it felt daunting to read the Prophet by herself. She'd probably just recycle them for the next week or so until she'd bucked up the courage to be able to check the obituaries again.

And still Marlene was everywhere and nowhere.

A whoosh in the front room made her jump from her seat and draw her wand.

"Vance." The gruff brogue was unmistakably Alastor's. For a moment, Emmeline was glad; perhaps he had some answers about Remus, and in her optimism, she hoped he might stay for a deoch-an-doris so she'd have some company.

"Hey," she called out, jogging to meet him in the entryway. "Have you heard from Remus? He called me a few days ago, he sounded so-..."

She knew instantly just by his demeanor.

And before he'd even said anything,

Emmeline cried.

A chill ran down her spine, racing the tears which rolled down her cheeks. "...Who?"

"...Come, sit down," he beckoned, motioning stiffly to the sofa.

"Who is it, Alastor?"

"Vance, please-"

"Who did I lose?" she murmured.

"Vance-"

"Who did I lose!?" she shouted, losing control of her own voice.

"An explanation needs to be given."

"Just tell me!"

"I need to know - did Sirius Black attempt to contact you within the last week?"

The idea that something might've happened to Sirius sent her into a panic, and she could feel her knees beginning to buckle under her. "Oh my God-"

Alastor noticed her wavering balance, and quickly hobbled forward to grab hold of her. "-He's not-...Emmeline, I beg you, you've got to sit down for this."

She began to shake as he led her gingerly to the couch. Her body started to go back to that day in July. Acid rose in her throat as she recalled the smell of the smoke.

Alastor lowered himself into the arm chair across from her. He had grown tired of breaking this kind of news.

"Answer my question - Did Black try to contact you?"

"No. Alastor, please, tell me what's going on." She blinked, wiping the tears with her sleeve in vain. "Is it-...is it Remus?"

"S'far as I know, Lupin's fine."

She huffed a sigh of relief as a portion of the worry evaporated from her tightened chest, but that still left the rest of her friends. Or, maybe: "Has the ministry fallen? Have we lost?"

Alastor gave up on stalling - but he had to get his explanation out before she would be too inconsolable to hear it. "Do you remember when I asked you not to contact the Potters?"

...Oh God, please no.

"Yes," she muttered apprehensively.

"...You have to understand, there's much I couldn't tell you-"

"Then tell me now," she demanded.

"There was a concern after the Potters' son was born that he might become a target for Voldemort."

Emmeline's brow furrowed in profound confusion. "...Harry? But he's-...is he alright?"

"The boy is safe."

"Why would-...but he's a baby; how did he become a target for-"

"A prediction was made that he'd somehow play a part in stopping Voldemort, and news of this reached the other side. Recently, the threat level of that was elevated, so Dumbledore advised the Potters to go into proper hiding using the fidelius charm. They picked Black to be their secret keeper." His lips seemed to curl around Sirius' surname in a way they never had before.

Suddenly, Emmeline's temper flared as she remembered the vanished house. "Why weren't Remus and I made aware of any of this?" she bellowed, scooting forward on the sofa.

Alastor reached out his hand in a soothing sort of way. "It was a need-to-know basis, and your situation made you a liability."

"Alastor, they're my friends-"

"I know, lass. I know they w-"

"Where is Sirius now?"

He had half a mind to start bellowing himself, but that would do nothing to ease the poor girl. Instead, Alastor clenched his fist around his walking stick, and delivered his news through gritted teeth: "...Black gave up the Potters' location to Voldemort yesterday."

Emmeline stared at him, dumbstruck.

"Mind, he's on his way to Azkaban after the stunt he pulled this morning," he continued.

"...Azk-...he-..." Her mouth seemed to be moving far slower than her brain. "...Sirius would never do something like that, he-...he wouldn't do that…they must have forced it out of him, tortured him, or- but even then, he wouldn't-"

"That's not how the charm works. The secret can only be divulged willingly," Alastor pushed back.

Emmeline stood and began to pace, raising her voice. "No, I'm sorry, but you've got it wrong. I know Sirius, and I'm telling you, it's impossible."

"James and Lily probably thought it was impossible, too," he snarled bitterly, though he immediately wished he'd held his tongue.

His words hit Emmeline like a curse in the gut. Alastor watched on with sympathy as her pacing came to a sudden halt, her head swivelling slowly towards him as she realized.

"...Why do you keep using the past tense?"

Moody's eyebrows turned the slightest bit inward. He found it very hard to say it out loud to her.

"You said they 'probably thought'...Alastor, where are James and Lily?"

Remus - 11:45pm

Remus had spent most of the evening staring into the flames of his campfire, lost in thought. Periodically, he would check in with his gut, unsure if he'd been ignoring a knot that never left or if it only came back when he thought about it. Either way, he felt uneasy. With his eyes still fixed on the fire, he recounted the events of the past week: his meeting with James, Emmeline's anxiety, his altercation with Sirius...He reached up and massaged the spot on his forehead where Sirius had struck him with the rock. He kept telling himself when this was all over, James would surely find a way to help mend his friendship with Sirius and Peter. He'd always been the glue between them.

With the exception of one bloke having a cigarette nearby, the rest of the colony seemed to have been asleep for hours now, and Remus' eyelids were beginning to droop. After dousing his campfire with a water spell, he stowed his wand and laid out his mat next to the smoking pit, hoping there'd be some warmth leftover for him as he fell asleep. He'd just pulled his coat over himself and gotten comfortable when he was startled by the White Phoenix whizzing past his head.

"Go home this instant," Dumbledore's voice commanded through the patronus.

That horrible, writhing knot returned to the pit of his stomach and wound all his other insides up along with it.

The man nearby dropped his cigarette and stared wide-eyed at the Phoenix. "Blimey, is that a-"

Others stirred too, but Remus had disapparated before he could gather his belongings or offer them any explanations.

...

He touched down in the foyer, his head whipping around wildly as he began tearing through the flat in search of her.

"Emmeline," he called out, rushing into the bedroom but finding it empty. "Emmeline!" he called louder this time, dashing into the kitchen at full speed just in time to see her lurching shakily to her feet where she appeared to have been laying on the floor. Though she was now standing, her posture remained hunched over. Her hands gripped her gut tightly as if this was the only thing keeping her up. She stared at him achingly, her face ravaged by tears.

Remus raced towards her and made it just before she collapsed into him. Scrambling to find the source of her agony, he lowered her back onto the ground. In a panic, he began to check her body for signs of harm, but found none. "What is it? What's happened?" he pressed her, fearing the worst.

But whatever he had imagined, this was much, much worse. Emmeline sat herself up to face him, sucked in a sharp breath, then let out a piercing wail:

"James and Lily are dead."

Remus felt his entire body go rigid.

His lungs seized up, paralyzed.

Remus couldn't breath.

Emmeline might as well have told him that the earth was crumbling beneath their feet or that the sky was crashing down on top of them. As Remus sat motionless, his blood oxygen levels beginning to dwindle, he could've sworn the world around him lost color entirely. Everything in his vision, now blurred by tears, suddenly went gray.

Emmeline simply thought he was speechless until his lips actually began to lose their color. "Hey, no no no no, Remus," she yelped, grabbing his face in her hands. Scooting closer to him, she placed one of her hands on his chest and shook it gently. "Breath Remus, please." The hand on his sternum prompted him to gasp for air, and Emmeline heaved a thankful cry as she pulled him against herself.

He began to hyperventilate.

Wheeze.

He was suffocating on nothing.

Drowning in air.

This wasn't happening.

Lily and James couldn't be dead.

They couldn't.

He'd just seen James.

They were supposed to be safe.

It wasn't true.

Without another word, Remus took hold of Emmeline and disapparated. The next thing he knew, he had tumbled down onto cold earth, and felt the distinct prickling of blades of grass underneath his fingertips. As he staggered to his feet, half coughing and half gagging from the spasms in his throat, he instantly noticed the massive cavity blown into the roof of the cottage. Nobody else was around, no lights on around the property - with the exception of Emmeline's scuffling and his own panicked breathing, there was no sound at all.

"Remus, they're not-"

But he was already charging through the entryway.

"Ja-James?! Lily!"

When his calls went unanswered, he blustered through the dining room into the kitchen.
"JAMES! LILY!" he shrieked.

"Remus- they're gone! they're-" Emmeline had caught up with him and taken hold of his shoulders. "The Ministry's collected them by now- oh God, their bodies-"

"No, no- I need- I need to find them-" He'd bolted from her arms again, headed for the stairs.

Feeling the weight of the cottage's emptiness closing in around her, Emmeline sank to her knees and made no further attempt to stop him. With her hands pressed into the floor to hold herself up as she wept, she swore she could still feel faint vibrations of Lily's lithe footsteps dancing on the linoleum.

Remus stopped himself when he reached the top of the stairs. Panting with what little oxygen supply he had left after forgetting how to breathe, he approached the bedrooms in the hallway with much less momentum, not having registered what Emmeline said and terrified of what he might find. Slowly, he pushed open the door to the master bedroom, but the room was empty. Next he moved towards the nursery where the damage to the roof was greatest, indicating a struggle. Again, he found this room empty save for the rubble and the leaves that had blown in from outside. A lonely, vacant crib stood silently in the corner, and as Remus realized that this, Harry's nursery, must have been the arena of the Potters' final stand, both hands flew up to his mouth. He must've gotten the baby too, he was sure of it. He tumbled back against the wall as his gasps turned to shallow, choking sobs, accompanied only by the wind whistling through the splintering eaves.

Remus squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that when he opened them, this hell would turn out to be nothing more than a mirage. As a child he'd taught himself this trick when he thought he caught sight of Greyback's mange at the foot of his bed. He'd sit up, squeeze his eyes shut for a few moments, then open them to find the room empty. This time when he opened his eyes, the view had not changed.

As though he'd just now heard Emmeline's words, he realized that their bodies were gone. How much time had passed since it happened? Why hadn't anyone alerted him sooner?

And then, the questions were muted by a sweeping tidal wave of self-hatred.

He should have been here with them.

He shouldn't have gone north.

He should've stayed and made sure they were all right.

He was too far away.

He knew something was wrong, and yet he'd gone anyway.

In a rage, he seized a nearby plank from the roof and threw it at the wall with all his might, roaring so forcefully that his entire being quaked.

The empty crib started back at him unsympathetically.

How or when he managed to drag himself back downstairs he knew not, but he must have done it because the next thing he knew he was kneeling on linoleum and pawing at Emmeline's shoulder.

"The baby, Emmeline. What happened-"

"He's alive, Harry's alive," Emmeline whimpered, still crying on all fours. "Alastor told me they've taken him to Petunia."

Admittedly, Remus was more puzzled than relieved. How could that be that Harry, Voldemort's target, had survived, while his parents had not?

"There's something else," Emmeline sniffled, her own shaky breaths breaking her voice as she cried harder. "Remus, I'm so sorry, I-...Peter was killed yesterday."

The air vacated Remus' lungs again. "What?! No, no-" he gasped, slamming his fist into the linoleum. God, not him too, poor bastard. What on earth had Peter done to get swept up in this? Had he come to rescue them, only to be put down like an animal in one final attempt at bravery? Remus' guilt came back tenfold - If only he'd been here; surely they would have stood a better chance, or, if not, at least he'd have gone down beside them.

His head began to spin, and he thought he might pass out. He could not comprehend how any of this fit together, until-

He had a sickening epiphany. His stomach dropped.

"...Emmeline…"

Inferring what he was about to ask, she reluctantly raised her bloodshot eyes up to meet his.

"...Who did this?" he growled.

There was only one person who could have allowed-; no, not just allowed, but orchestrated this.

Remus prayed she would say someone - anyone else's name.

Emmeline prayed he wouldn't disapparate again when she told him.

"Sirius. It was Sirius," she whispered.

Remus' heart seemed to break apart before her eyes.

Though her voice was barely functional by this point, she began to recount bits of what Alastor told her, unaware that Remus was already privy to this information. "Sirius w-was the o-only person who knew h-how to get to James and L-Lily under the protection of the fidelius ch-charm," she hiccoughed. "He g-gave up their secret to Voldemort, then he turned around and ki-killed Peter too. I th-thought he would go after you-"

His heartbreak transformed into that sudden white-hot rage, only this time, it filled him to the brim and began to overflow. Leaping to vicious thoughts of revenge, Remus tried to stand, but Emmeline grasped at his coat.

"No-wait! Please, please don't leave again, I can't-..." She cried into her hands. "If I'm by myself- one minute longer, I'll-"

"Where is he- WHERE IS HE?!" Remus screamed, growing more and more hysterical.

"They've already sent him to Azkaban! He killed twelve muggles this morning- in broad daylight. I told Alastor none of it made any sense, but they found him in the street laughing...I don't know what's happening, I don't- how he could've-...Remus, Sirius was our friend, and he- Lily and James, and-...Oh God, oh my God..."

Perhaps Remus had been on to something after all.

And now he despised himself all the more - for not seeing this coming sooner. Really, he should have seen it coming, he convinced himself. If Sirius had nearly murdered Severus Snape at the age of sixteen, was this outcome really so far-fetched?

And yet, there was a nagging voice in the back of his mind reminding Remus that Sirius loved James and Lily. He loved them. How could he have disregarded a decade of friendship like it was nothing? He'd left his own family and become like their brother...

Was nothing sacred to a Black but blood?

The nagging voice made it all the way up to the front of Remus' mind and even managed to form into words. "...Did Padfoot- did he really…?"

His mouth contorted around the tortured shriek which escaped his throat, immediately followed by his previous gasping. Emmeline crawled towards Remus and hugged him tightly, rubbing his back up and down to get the air to go in and out.

In a fleeting moment of clarity, Remus sat up in Emmeline's embrace, looked into her eyes, and shared with her this realization:

"I've lost every one of my friends. In one night. Every one," he softly sobbed.

Remus had caught enough breath to let himself cry properly now. He slumped into her arms where he howled and howled until his voice gave out, too.

As the wizarding world around them celebrated the boy who lived, Remus and Emmeline, heartbroken beyond repair, mourned for the parents who died.