It was September. The leaves on the trees had begun to change colours and the air smelled of autumn. It was Lily's favourite time of year. Correction: it had been Lily's favourite time of year. It was harder to appreciate now that she was stuck inside most days. She'd taken to enjoying a tall glass of wine at the end of every night — red or white, she wasn't picky — and sitting out in the back garden, drinking beneath the stars and soaking in the last few warm days the year had to offer.
Tonight she sat with a quilt around her shoulders and one of James' cigarettes between her index and middle finger. He thought he hid those well, but he didn't. She could always smell them on him. Lily would take a sip of wine after each exhale, to wash the taste from her mouth and try to pretend she wasn't slowly killing herself with every inhale.
"Caught you," James said, stepping outside, a glass of dark liquid (she assumed whiskey) in his right hand. He sat across from her and reached for the pack on the table.
"Harry finally fell asleep?" Lily asked, stubbing her cigarette out. Half of one was more than enough for her.
"Yeah. I nearly finished the entire Tales of Beadle the Bard before he did, though."
"I do not understand why you insist on reading that book."
"Every kid in the Wizarding world grows up reading it."
"I never read it and I turned out perfectly fine," Lily reminded her husband.
"Better than fine, if you ask me."
Flirting. That was something Lily had almost forgotten about. The past few weeks had been filled with anything but playful banter. Rather, they'd struggled to so much as talk about their feelings with each other. Lily had turned to wine and James did… well, Lily tried not to think too much about what James did to blow off steam.
"What time is the meeting tomorrow?"
"Noon," Lily answered. An owl hooted in the tree across from them. "I suppose I should make lunch."
"I doubt he'll stay very long," James shrugged. "Maybe he'll finally give me back my bloody cloak." Dumbledore had written only that morning to announce he would be coming by the following day to speak with them about some "important matter." Lily didn't like the sound of it. She'd grown weary of Dumbledore's visits, which were often followed by news of danger and stricter restrictions on their family's movements.
Lily leaned her head back, eyes gazing up towards the sky. If she kept them focused just right, so that everything on the edge of her vision blurred, she could pretend that she was somewhere else. The back garden at her old house. The Hogwarts grounds. She could be ten or seventeen. It didn't matter, so long as she was free.
"I got an owl from Alex as well," James announced, catching Lily by surprise.
"What? Why didn't you tell me?"
"It's nothing important, he just wanted me to know that he's putting the house he and Amy built up for sale." Lily's stomach sank. "He and Franny are going back to France, permanently."
"That makes sense, I suppose." Lily couldn't begin to imagine what Alex was going through. He'd lost his wife, unborn child, and anything of meaning that he'd left behind in the house, which had been burnt to a crisp. There was still no word on who had done such a thing, who had destroyed every last remaining memory of the McKinnon family, but part of Lily was grateful. At least the rooms in which Marlene and her family had spent their final, horrifying moments, were gone.
"Come here," James said. He had his arms open, beckoning her over.
"What?"
"I want to hold my wife, is that a crime?" Lily stood up and took the two steps over to James, settling in his lap, her arms looped around the back of his neck. He pressed his head against her chest, exhaling deeply.
"I love you," he whispered, holding her tight. "If anything happened to you, I don't think I could bear it—"
"Don't talk like that." She couldn't stand it. James had been talking as though impending doom was inevitable since Marlene's murder in July. He had come home from seeing her body in the hospital and collapsed into bed. He hadn't emerged all day. When Lily had gone to check on him while Harry was down for his afternoon nap; he had been lying on his side, his pillow soaked in tears.
"If anything happens to me, promise you and Harry will keep each other safe."
"Stop, I won't hear of it, James—"
"It has to be me," he told her, gripping her hand. "If it comes down to a choice between the two of us, between who lives and who dies, it has to be me."
For a while, she'd been worried he might do something stupid. He was overcome with grief. For the first week, he barely made it out of bed. Lily carried food to him on trays that he barely touched and Harry asked often "where dada is." If it hadn't been for Bathilda Lily might have completely lost it.
The old woman had come over often in those early days. She would bring food and care for Harry while Lily disappeared, sitting outside or in a secluded room in the house just to cry. It was the only time she had to make room for her own grief.
Marlene had not just been James' oldest friend; she'd been one of Lily's closest. Besides Severus, Marlene was the first person from the Wizarding world to openly embrace Lily. They'd been fast friends from the moment they shook hands on the Hogwarts Express. Even closer when they'd been placed in the same house and chosen beds beside each other in the dormitory.
Lily had spent those days right after Marlene's murder replaying their last interaction over and over in her head. Marlene had been wearing a Rolling Stones t-shirt. They'd shared a cup of tea and she'd played on the floor with Harry, making him laugh which, in turn, brought a smile to Lily's face.
"Please come back again soon," Lily had practically begged when it had been time for Marlene to leave. "As I'm sure you can guess, we're bored as hell around here."
"I'll be back soon," she promised, embracing Lily. "I'm dying to see Harry open his presents."
"Can you believe he's nearly one? A full-year-old."
"Where did the time go?"
Two days. Two days before her murder, that had been. Lily had no clue, as she waved Marlene out the door, that it would be the last time she saw her. She would never return to see Harry open his gifts, never again would she bounce him on her knee or listen to Lily complain for hours about how stir-crazy she was. That time, they would never get back.
Emmeline stood before the McKinnon family's gravestone. They'd been buried in Hastings, where Marlene's father had grown up. His sisters had planned the whole funeral. The ceremony had felt odd, being organized by people Emmeline didn't even know. These people only knew a tiny fraction of Marlene, Emmeline had thought bitterly throughout the service, they have no idea who she really was.
It was a grey, September afternoon. Emmeline propped the hood of her raincoat up as it began to drizzle. Summer was truly over. It felt unfair, that Marlene should be left behind in another season. Emmeline knew that was a stupid thing to worry about. Marlene was dead after all, what did she care what season it was? She had been buried six feet under. There was no recognizable trace of her left.
The weather at the funeral had been lovely compared to this. It had still been summer then. Emmeline remembered the sun, peaking through the clouds. The ceremony had been held in the cemetery, rows of chairs arranged. There were five stands with photographs for the family members, each with their own quote beneath them:
Maureen Jacquetta McKinnon
B. 1913 D. 1981
She never took no for an answer and pushed ahead when others paused. But a kinder, gentler woman you will never meet again.
Alfred Rodrick McKinnon
B. 1913 D.1981
The world is diminished because he is gone… but it is still a better place because he was here.
Amy Maureen McKinnon
B. 1956 D. 1981
Sweet as a rose.
Marlene Elizabeth McKinnon
B. 1960 D. 1981
Death lies upon her like an untimely frost upon the sweetest flower of all the field.
Daniel Alfred McKinnon
B. 1962 D. 1981
Fond memories linger every day, remembrance keeps him near.
Now, Emmeline stood alone in the graveyard, staring at the family stone, the same as it had looked when it was unveiled that morning. Just a list of names and some sappy quote carved into the bottom of it: And now cometh eternal rest and blessed tranquillity. It was the kind of gravestone that would've made Marlene's eyes roll. "Seriously? You let my aunts choose the quote?" Emmeline could picture her saying.
The rain began to come down harder and Emmeline gave up, walking away from Marlene's grave in the direction of a nearby coffee shop. She'd been there once before, on the morning of the funeral. Emmeline hadn't been able to sleep that night, how could she? In less than twenty-four hours Marlene McKinnon would be buried, along with the rest of her family. It was Emmeline's worst nightmare and she couldn't escape the feeling that she'd missed her chance to stop it.
Falling asleep had come more easily after Emmeline's third glass of Firewhiskey. The only problem had been waking up – considerably harder than she'd thought it would be. Mary and Reg waited for her at the bottom of the stairs (where she arrived twenty minutes behind schedule), neither of them very impressed.
"Christ, are you drunk?" Mary asked when she laid eyes on Emmeline. The disapproval in her tone was unmistakable.
"Not today," was all Emmeline managed to grumble in response. All she knew for certain was that she needed coffee, and quickly.
Emmeline rushed through the café door, dripping wet from the rain. She ordered herself a latte and then pulled up a stool near the front window. It was pouring now, thunder rumbling in the distance. Emmeline hated the rain. It made her hair frizz up and her shoes squeak. She'd never understood people who enjoyed it. Marlene had been one of those people. Rain or shine she was always happy. That was how Emmeline would remember her at least.
The funeral had been insufferable. First of all, only members of Marlene's extended family were given the opportunity to speak. Their descriptions of Marlene were nothing like the girl Emmeline knew. She lacked the spirit and the strength. Emmeline wished James were able to be there. He could say something, something real, something that would have made Marlene proud.
Mary cried throughout most of the service. It made Emmeline's skin crawl. She couldn't quite understand why it irritated her so but whenever she glanced to her right and saw Mary burrowing her head in Reg's shoulder, tears dripping into her lap, she almost lost it. It wasn't until the end when people were beginning to rise from their seats and a bagpiper played, that Mary took Emmeline's hand and leaned towards her.
"I'm sorry, Emmy," she whispered, her voice thick with tears. "I didn't mean to be such a bitch this morning."
The bell above the café door chimed and Emmeline snapped back into reality. The rain showed no sign of stopping so she threw her coat back on and braved it. At least she would be home soon enough. She turned down a deserted street and apparated to a familiar side street in Diagon Alley.
For the past few weeks, she'd been staying in one of the rooms above The Leaky Cauldron. It was only until she found more suitable arrangements, a flat of her own like Marlene had suggested.
The pub was empty, only a few regulars lounging about, nursing pints of their favourite beer. Tom was leaning against the far end of the bar, his ear right up against the radio as he listened closely to the daily news report.
Emmeline was planning to walk right past him (she was too wet from the rain for small talk today) but he caught her before she could reach the bottom of the stairs.
"Hey, Emmeline," Tom said, standing up straight. "Mary came by looking for you."
Emmeline froze. "Did she?"
"She left you this." Tom pulled out a folded up piece of paper from his apron pocket. Emmeline wondered if he'd read it. She wouldn't blame him; if roles were reversed she'd probably do the same thing. She shoved the note into the pocket of her coat, not entirely sure she ever wanted to read it herself.
"I thought you might like to know," Tom added, "Sirius stopped by a little while ago. He apologized for what happened at the wake—"
"Why're you telling me this?" Emmeline snapped. She was the last person who wanted to hear news of Sirius Black.
"I thought you were friends," Tom shrugged.
"He's not my friend," Emmeline told him. "I thought I made myself very clear on that point." The corner of Tom's lips twitched with the hint of a smile.
"Yeah, I suppose you did."
Sirius had grown used to living with another person. The warm spot beside him in bed, the sound of someone humming in the shower in the morning, or bacon fumes wafting into the bedroom, Marlene's signal that it was time to get up and face the day. It took a while to get used to being alone again, to remember that no one else was going to go grocery shopping or cook dinner at the end of the day.
He spent the first two weeks after Marlene's death in a drunken haze. It started the night of her murder and didn't end until he received Lily's letter, just after Harry's birthday, and realized he needed to stop before he hurt himself or any of his friends any more than he already had.
He couldn't stay sober in the beginning because it meant remembering her. It meant rolling over onto her side of the bed and being reminded of her smell or the fuzzy pyjama bottoms she wore in the winter. It meant seeing her clothes hanging up in the closet and recalling all the arguments he'd started about her taking up too much space in there.
Now? He would've lived with just the clothes on his back if it meant bringing Marlene back. He would do anything just to see her again, to hold her, to tell her everything he hadn't known he needed to say until she was gone. I love you. I never knew that was possible before. You changed my life. I can't live without you.
He didn't tell anyone that he was the one who set the house on fire. He knew they would either be angry or Remus might use it as an excuse to accuse Sirius of being "suspicious." He didn't speak to anyone, not for that first week. He stayed, locked inside of the apartment they had shared, filled with reminders of her, getting drunk, seeing her ghost. Crying. He cried a lot the first week.
His plan was to get himself cleaned up by the day of the funeral. He had received his invitation and promised himself that he would attend. It was what Marlene would have done for him; it was the least she would have done. He could at least do this for her. Show his face and pass his condolences along to her family, and Alex. Alex most of all.
Sirius didn't make it, though. He got pissed the night before and woke up at noon with a pounding hangover and a dirty conscience. He'd slept right through it, his own girlfriend's funeral. While Marlene was being buried six feet underground he had slept. It was pitiful, really. She deserved better than him, she always had.
There was no use trying not to get drunk after that, so he finished off the rest of his alcohol at home and then made his way down the road to The Leaky Cauldron. He'd sit at the bar and drink in her honour. That was something (though just barely). He wondered what James and Lily were doing today, seeing as they wouldn't be able to attend the funeral. He wondered how James was handling the news. He hadn't yet plucked up the courage to check.
The Leaky Cauldron, as he realized when he hit its front door, had been reserved for an event for the next hour (or so the sign read). He had nearly turned around to walk away when he recognized someone beyond the glass door. Emmeline was striding up towards the bar in a black pantsuit. Sirius pushed the door open. It was a wake. The room was filled with old classmates and Aurors, members of The Order and, over in their regular corner booth, his friends.
"Sirius?" Emmeline saw him first; she'd been standing nearest the door, after all, her arms rested on top of the bar as she waited for Tom to fetch her order.
"What is this?" he asked. He already knew the answer, of course. It was obvious.
"We wanted to do something, separate from the funeral." Emmeline's eyes fell to her feet. "Where were you?" she asked. She didn't dare look at him as she did.
"I…." There was no good excuse for his absence. "I couldn't."
"You couldn't?" Her eyes rose now, not very forgiving.
"It's too soon."
"No one's heard from you all week, Sirius… James and Lily have been worried sick."
Tom returned, sliding a mixed drink – which Sirius recognized as a vodka-cran – towards Emmeline.
"Oh," he said when he noticed Sirius standing there. "Hullo, Sirius."
"Hi, Tom."
"I'm sorry," Tom said, clearing his throat awkwardly, "for your loss."
"Look, we're all sitting over there," Emmeline told him, nudging her head towards the booth, "why don't you join us?"
Sirius shook his head. "No, I… I don't think—"
"Please, just for a few minutes." He hadn't showered in days, nor could he be sure when the last time he'd changed his shirt was. He must've looked an utter wreck to their eyes, all finely groomed for the funeral, the boys in suits, the girls all dolled up in their black dresses.
Alice, who'd been sitting on the end of the bench, stood up when she saw him, her eyes widening.
"You're here. How did you…?" She looked to Emmeline in shock.
"He just walked through the door." She shrugged, sliding back into the booth with her drink. Sirius was going to apologize to them all – to Frank and Alice especially – but then he saw him. Sitting between Peter and Frank, his head down, and anything Sirius had meant to say was forgotten.
"What is he doing here?" His eyebrows furrowed.
"Sirius…." Alice cautioned.
"No, seriously, what the hell are you doing here?" He was looking only at Remus, whose head raised slowly, his brown eyes not filled with the venom Sirius had grown used to in recent months.
"I wanted to pay my respects—"
"After the way you treated her?" Sirius demanded. "The things you said to her…."
"I was wrong," Remus, confessed, "I wish I could tell her that—"
"It's a little late for that, don't you think?" He couldn't believe that they would allow Remus to attend Marlene's funeral when he'd accused her of murder for the last few months of her life. He'd made her miserable. He'd broken her heart. None of them had seen that of course, Sirius was the one who had head her crying or seen the look in her eyes when someone else mentioned Remus' name and she remembered the friendship she had lost.
"Please Sirius," Alice said, only loud enough for him to hear, "don't make a scene. Not today."
"Fine," Sirius nodded, stepping back. "If he leaves, I won't."
Her face fell. "That's not fair—"
"What's not fair is all of you allowing him to do this! He's manipulating you, all of you!"
"That's enough." It was Frank who spoke now, using his tough, Auror voice. Sirius wouldn't be dissuaded.
"Did you do it, Remus?" Sirius asked, seething. "Did you kill her?" Every jaw at the table dropped. Peter went white as a ghost.
"No, of course not," Remus said, as though the suggestion were completely absurd as if Remus were not the only one at the table who had an axe to grind with Marlene.
"You wanted to make her pay for losing Dorcas so you told them where they could find her—"
"Stop it," Emmeline snapped. "That's a disgusting thing to say—"
"It's exactly what he said to her! He said worse! Didn't you, Remus?" Sirius could no longer contain his rage. Heads around them turned. Alice's cheeks went pink.
"I'll go," Remus, said, his voice quiet and small.
"Oh, don't do that," Mary said, leaning over Reg. "It's not right."
"Disgusting," Sirius scowled, "all of you. You should be ashamed of yourselves, sitting here, calling yourselves her friends."
"At least we showed up to her bloody funeral," Emmeline interjected, her tone chilling. "That's more than you can say for yourself." That one stung. Sirius looked down at her, wishing he could convey to her with just one look how truly guilty he felt about that, how guilty he would always feel.
Reg, Mary, and Peter finally moved aside so that Remus could slide out of the booth. He stood up, straightening out his robes, averting his gaze. Sirius could still remember the scene Remus had made at Dorcas' funeral. Marlene had been humiliated. She'd gone home and fallen straight into bed, pretending to sleep for the rest of the afternoon, though Sirius could hear her quiet sobs whenever he passed the bedroom door.
"You know, I miss her too," Remus said. "She was my friend—"
"Don't," Sirius warned him, his rage bubbling beneath the surface.
"I can't take back what I did, you should understand how that feels better than anyone."
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"Have some respect," Emmeline growled at them from the end of the booth. "We're at a wake, for Merlin's sake."
"I'm just saying, you weren't perfect either—"
"I never treated her the way you did."
"You certainly caused her lots of pain," Remus reminded him as if Sirius didn't know himself what a fool he'd been when they were teenagers. Not a day would go by that Sirius didn't regret the things he'd said or done to hurt Marlene throughout her short life. He would've given anything to turn back time and fix it, to take away all the pain she felt, to make her happier than she'd ever had the chance to be.
"I guess that's one thing we'll always have in common, isn't it Moony?" Sirius stepped closer towards Remus. Everyone at the table was frozen, as though trapped watching a train wreck occur that they were helpless to stop. "We'll never bring anything but misery into others lives." Sirius took some pride in Remus' lack of response. "However long my list of victims is I always know you'll be one ahead, don't I?"
There was a pause, no more than a few seconds, and then, with a blank expression on his face, Remus thrust his fist into Sirius' jaw. The two men rolled about on the dusty floor of the bar, grabbing the attention of everyone around them. They struggled, throwing punches left and right, tearing at one another's clothes. Finally, Frank, Peter, and Reg pulled them apart, both men practically foaming at the mouth.
"If anyone is the master manipulator it's you!" Remus howled, his arms held behind his back by Reg. "Her blood is on your hands!"
"They're still cleaner than yours."
"ENOUGH!" The whole room went silent after that, all eyes on Emmeline who stood between the two men. She looked from Remus to Sirius in disgust. "She would be ashamed if she saw you now, both of you."
"Em, I don't think that's going to help right now," Mary said, trying to draw Emmeline away from the scene. She resisted though, pushing Mary off.
"You're both to blame, do you hear me?" Emmeline asked, looking between the two of them. "You ruined us and you used her as a pawn for a stupid feud between two boys. Shame on you." Emmeline stepped back, looking among the rest of the group, everyone now standing up, their heads bowed guiltily.
"I'm done," Emmeline, announced. "It's over."
"Emmy…" Mary said from behind her friend, her face drawn in shock.
"I'm not going to wait around and watch as you tear each other apart and I'm not going to just stand by and let you ruin Marlene's memory by drawing her into this stupid fight."
It was Emmeline who stormed off after that, Mary chasing her out of the pub. Frank walked Sirius home, insisting on taking him right up to his front door, and a rather horrified looking Alice went home with Remus. Sirius wished he'd never left his apartment. It would've been better if he'd slept all day rather than ruin Marlene's wake.
It was a few days later that Lily's letter arrived. He'd ignored it for days, too afraid that it would be filled with words of anger and resentment. When he'd finally found the courage to read it he'd been blown away. Not only by Lily's warmth and kindness but the reality that no matter how hard he tried to push them away, James and Lily weren't going anywhere.
Sirius had read her words over and over, tears prickling in his eyes. Unlike him, James and Lily didn't have the luxury of being consumed by their grief. They had a family to worry about, and a young son who needed their attention. He stared at the photograph of James and Harry for what felt like hours, watching as James chased after his son on his toy broomstick. The gift, which Marlene had dropped off at the Potters' a few days before her murder, had been a spur of the moment decision. They'd seen it in a shop window one afternoon and knew it would be the perfect gift for a future Quidditch player.
It was like seeing a distant, flickering light at the end of a long tunnel. Sirius knew what it was he needed to do, what he should've done from the beginning.
Lily was the one who answered the door. It was late at night and she was wearing her pyjamas, which had tiny golden snitches all over them (a gift from James, no doubt). Sirius stood on their doorstep, with a black eye and wet cheeks. It was a scene that mirrored the night that he had arrived at the Potters' after running away from home.
Lily didn't say a word. She didn't scold him for staying away so long or missing his own godson's birthday. She didn't stare at him with the same disappointment that had filled the eyes of their friends when they'd seen him at The Leaky Cauldron. Rather, she opened up her arms and allowed Sirius to fall into them, much as Caroline had all those moons ago.
"I'm so sorry." It was all that Sirius could say, over and over, as tears spilt from the corners of his eyes. James appeared not long after that, coming down the stairs to see who it was. Sirius went stiff when he saw him, his best friend, for the first time since both enduring such a profound loss. James was the only other person who could truly understand the extent of the gaping hole Marlene had left in Sirius' heart.
"Did Remus do that?" James asked, pointing at Sirius' eye. He'd almost forgotten about his dishevelled appearance.
"Yeah," he nodded, touching the tender skin instinctively. "Who knew Mooney had it in him?" They stared at one another, James smirking, and then the gravity of the moment seemed to dawn on them.
"James…" Sirius' voice cracked. He didn't know what to say or whether there were words to convey the guilt and pain that seemed to weigh him down these days like an anchor.
"Forgiven," James said, without hearing anymore. Sirius crumbled after that, his body shaking as tears came rolling down his cheeks. James took him in his arms and embraced him, like a brother, the two of them sharing in their grief for the first time. It was the first time since the night of Marlene's murder that Sirius thought things might really be okay, that it might be possible for them to come back from this.
That night Lily made up the couch for him. He slept on it for the next week. He watched Harry for them in the afternoons. He did his best not to forget Marlene, but to make her proud.
Remus woke up in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. There was bright light streaming in through the large window at the end of the room. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and saw that he was the only patient Madame Pomfrey had for the morning. He couldn't remember what he was doing there (had there been a full moon?) but he didn't think much about it either.
He was reaching for the jug of water on the table beside him when the door to the wing swung open and in walked Marlene. She was in her robes, her book bag swung over one shoulder, her curly hair pulled up into a bun. Remus watched her, silently, as she walked towards him, her heeled shoes clacking against the floor.
"How're you feeling this morning?" she asked when she reached the end of his bed. She pulled her bag off and plopped it down, digging around inside of it. Remus watched her, in uncertainty, and then suddenly remembered why her presence seemed so unusual to him. Marlene was not supposed to be in the Hospital Wing – she was supposed to be dead.
"Marlene…" he began to say, his memories rushing back to him. Remus didn't waste time wondering what he was doing back in Hogwarts but rather focused on the girl in front of him, who seemed very much alive.
"I brought you a blueberry muffin and an orange." Marlene produced the said items from her bag. "I hope that's enough."
"Can you come here for a second?" Remus asked. She gave him a funny look.
"What?"
"Just come over here." He waved her over to the side of the bed and despite her reservations she did as he asked. Remus leaned over and wrapped his arms around her. She smelled like Marlene – hints of coconut and vanilla. She hugged like her too. How could this be possible?
"Is everything okay?" Marlene asked. She pulled up a chair beside Remus' bed.
"I'm just so glad to see you."
"Now you're freaking me out. What did you guys get up to last night?"
Remus shook his head. He didn't want to talk about that. "How are you here?" he asked her.
"Um, I walked?"
"James… James will be so happy, and Sirius. He's been a wreck, we all have—"
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm so sorry, Marlene. For everything, I said to you… for everything I did. I'm not proud. I don't know how I'll ever make it up to you."
"Be happy," she told him as if suddenly she understood exactly what he was talking about. "That'll be enough."
Remus woke up, no longer at Hogwarts. Instead, he was in the Longbottoms' guestroom, stirred by the rumble of thunder and heavy rain on the roof. He couldn't help but feel a little disappointed not to find Marlene sitting there beside his bed. He had so much more to say, so much more he had to make amends for.
Of course, the time for that was over. Marlene was dead and had been for over a month. The only thing left for Remus was to live with the guilt of what he had done to her. He threw on a sweater and wandered downstairs. Alice sat in the kitchen, the radio on in the background, feeding Neville applesauce in his high chair.
"Morning sunshine," she greeted him when Remus stepped into the room – making a beeline for the coffee pot. "Sleep okay?"
"I had an awful dream."
"Don't tell me," Alice said, Remus, sitting beside her at the table. "It'll sound too much like reality." Neville had applesauce dripping down his chin. His mother wiped it away with the corner of a napkin. He looked at her, with his big brown eyes, grinning. It wasn't hard to see how much he adored his mother. Remus was thankful to be staying with the Longbottoms. Living with a baby provided a rare source of light in such a dark time.
Things around the house had been tense after Marlene's funeral. Remus had received an earful from Alice on their way home, as he'd wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth where Sirius had hit him.
"Why would you egg him on like that? You knew he was drunk."
"He was accusing me of murdering her!"
"You have no one to blame but yourself, Remus." She was angry. Remus had only seen Alice this angry a handful of times throughout their friendship. It was never very much fun. "You said awful things to Sirius and Marlene after Dorcas died. You spread all kinds of lies about them—"
"I had my suspicions, I still have my suspicions about him—"
"STOP IT!" They were standing on the sidewalk just outside of the house. Augusta was looking after Neville and so any arguing would need to be finished before they walked through the front door. "I won't hear another word."
"Al—"
"I'm serious, Remus! Can't you see what you two are doing? Look at what happened with Emmeline today. Better yet, look at what happened to Marlene! You wasted months accusing her of terrible things and all for what?"
"So you agree with him?" Remus asked, his voice faltering.
"No. I think Sirius behaved like a complete asshole today, but you didn't behave much better. I can't understand how you two can just turn on each other like this, after years of friendship. Why can't you just lay this stupid feud to rest?"
Perhaps, if Alice had posed the question to him an hour ago before Sirius had slammed his fist into Remus' face, he might have been inclined to listen. Not now though. His sympathy for his friend had long since faded. Whatever tenderness had existed between them was over. They would never get back to where they were.
Alice shook her head, her eyes filled with disappointment. "Emmeline was right, what you two did today… it would've made Marlene sick. If Dorcas were here to see this..."
"Real nice," Remus scoffed, "using my dead girlfriend against me."
"You know I didn't mean it that way."
"Whatever." Remus was tired of being scolded. He turned and walked back down the street in the direction they'd come from. Alice called after him, she begged him to stop but he didn't listen. He heard her give up and go inside after a while.
Remus had no plan. He walked a few blocks until he reached the neighbourhood pub. Just like Sirius, he drowned his sorrows in alcohol, copious amounts of it, and tried to pretend he wasn't so terribly miserable.
All he could think about was Dorcas and how heavy his guilt had been after her death. He should have protected her. He should have been better to her. He knew Sirius was likely going through the same emotions. Alice was right – pointing fingers was pointless. He had known Sirius as long as he'd known any of his friends and yet he'd turned on him.
"Now you're getting it," he could imagine Dorcas saying. She'd be sitting there, always drinking some extravagant cocktail Remus could never understand the point of. Sex on the Beach was her favourite.
"You might as well just order juice," he'd tell her, a pint of beer or a glass of whiskey sitting in front of him.
"You can't understand the satisfaction of a good cocktail."
She was right, he couldn't. Remus had never been much of a drinker, but growing up with James and Sirius as friends forced you to learn how to throw one back when the time came. He wondered what Sirius was doing now. Whether he'd stayed back at his apartment or wandered out again, his head too messed up to be alone with his thoughts. Remus knew the feeling. It was why he'd been so quick to move in with Alice and Frank after Dorcas' murder.
Sirius still lived in the same flat. He was reminded of Marlene's absence every moment of every day. It was a punishment Remus himself had not been strong enough to endure. He replayed his words with Sirius that afternoon over in his head. Alice was right, he had been wrong to suggest that Sirius had been Marlene's undoing. He should've just kept his mouth shut and left. That's what a better man would've done.
When Remus had become drunk enough that his concept of time had faded he left the pub and apparated to the cemetery in which Dorcas was buried. He only meant to visit – to share a few words with her or perhaps beg for her guidance – but in his drunken haze he wound up falling asleep at her grave.
He'd returned home in the morning shivering (and suffering from a terrible hangover) only to find Alice wide awake, waiting for him in the living room. It was clear she'd gotten little if any sleep that night. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw Remus walk through the front door, rushing to throw a blanket over his trembling shoulders, before scolding him for giving her such a fright. The scolding didn't bother him so much this time around, at least he knew there was still someone out there who cared what happened to him.
That had been over a month ago. It seemed crazy, how much time had passed, how quickly time kept moving despite everything they'd lost. So many people had been left behind. Dorcas, Leila, the Prewetts, and now Marlene….
"Where's Frank?" Remus asked, filling up a bowl of Cheerios for himself.
"Moody needed help closing down the safe house." Alice didn't look at him when she said it, her attention focused on getting the spoon of applesauce into her son's mouth.
The Order was finished. Emmeline had quit, Marlene was dead, Sirius and Remus were unable to work together and James and Lily could no longer serve on the team. It was pointless, Moody had told them, to try and continue at the risk of spilling any more innocent blood. They would leave fighting the war in the hands of the Aurors and pray to god it was enough to keep them safe.
James was already on his second drink of the evening by the time Sirius arrived. He had begun to spend most evenings with the Potters. Lily made sure he was well fed and taking care of himself and James was grateful for the company of a friend now that he could no longer sneak out of the house under the guise of his invisibility cloak.
"Smells amazing," Sirius said when James opened the front door to greet him.
"Lily has been channelling her anxiety into cooking all afternoon." The two of them entered the living room, James pouring Sirius a glass of Firewhiskey without even asking what he wanted to drink – ten years of friendship had taught him the answer to that question.
"We had a visit from Dumbledore today."
"How did that go?" Sirius was crouched on the floor with Harry, whose face lit up the minute he saw his godfather enter the room.
"No one's dead. I suppose we should be grateful for that." James took a healthy gulp from his glass. These days it was more likely for someone to pop by to bring dreadful news than anything close to positive. James was used to it by now.
Lily emerged from the kitchen, an apron wrapped around her waist. She looked exhausted. James doubted he looked any better.
"Sirius," she said, barely managing a smile. They shared a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I'm making shepherd's pie," she announced. "Your favourite."
"James is lucky to have you."
"You're telling me," James laughed.
James and Lily had agreed that they would wait until after dinner to share the news with Sirius. Lily didn't want to spoil the meal she'd worked so hard to prepare and James didn't mind putting off the serious discussion until later in the evening. The bottle of wine Lily had opened just an hour ago was already half finished. It didn't take long for Sirius to grow suspicious of his hosts' anxious behaviour. By the time dinner plates were being cleared and Lily was serving the chocolate cake she'd made for pudding, Sirius had had enough.
"So, is anyone going to tell me why Dumbledore was here today?" Sirius finally asked. If it weren't for the giant favour they were about to ask of Sirius (who was still recovering from Marlene's death) James would've already spilt the beans. Usually, they'd have spent the majority of dinner discussing Dumbledore's strange behaviour and his irritating use of metaphors at the most inconvenient times in conversation.
"He wants to increase our security measures," James spit out. "He's going to put the house under the Fidelius charm." Sirius' face fell. "We'll need a secret keeper, of course, and Dumbledore offered to take on the job but we… well, Lily and I both agreed that we would be more comfortable placing that responsibility in the hands of someone close to us, someone who can trust with our lives." They both stared at Sirius expectantly.
"Me?" Sirius' face had gone white as snow. "Blimey…."
"You're family, Sirius," Lily told him. "We trust you more than anyone else we know."
When Dumbledore had informed them of his plan, to use the spell to heighten their protection, James had known deep down who the secret keeper was supposed to be. Marlene. Hers was the first name that popped into his head before Dumbledore had even suggested himself for the role. James had almost forgotten that she was gone, that he could no longer lean on her for support when he needed it most.
"We've already told Dumbledore that we want it to be you," James told him. "Are you… okay with it?" James didn't know what they'd do if he said no.
"Of course," Sirius nodded, though he didn't sound so convincing. "You know that I would do anything to protect you guys. I love Harry to death and Prongs, you're as good as a brother to me, but…"
"I knew a but was coming," Lily groaned.
"Don't you think it'll be a bit obvious, choosing me? It's well known that we're good friends," Sirius said, looking to James. "Regulus has no doubt told them all about my loyalties to your family. After Dumbledore, I'm the first person they'd suspect. Especially now that…" Sirius stopped short of finishing his sentence, as though choking on the final words, "…Marlene is gone."
"It's not as if we have many options," Lily sighed. "Not when we know that someone among us is a spy. If not Dumbledore or you then who?"
They were all silent for a while, except for Harry who smashed his spoon against the table on his high chair repeatedly, making a drumbeat of his own. James was just about to lean over and take the spoon from his son's hand, unable to stand the noise any longer, when Sirius spoke.
"What about Peter?"
"Peter?" James and Lily asked in the same sceptical tone.
"I love Peter but… he's not exactly the strongest…" Lily said, sugarcoating the truth: Peter was the weakest link among them. His hexes never held very well and he always needed backup in a fight.
"Exactly," Sirius nodded, seeming excited by Peter's lack of strength. "Who on earth would ever suspect Peter could be your secret keeper?" He had a point there. They would suspect Sirius, Remus, even the Longbottoms, before they reached Peter's name. No one who knew them would assume that James and Lily would trust Peter with the safety of their family.
"Do you think he'd be up for it?" James was not entirely convinced Peter could handle the responsibility. "You don't think he'll be too scared?"
"I'll talk to him," Sirius suggested. "If he can't handle it then I'll take the job."
"Thank you, Sirius," Lily said, sighing with relief. "Truly."
They couldn't predict what would happen in the days or weeks to come but at least they could have this: a plan. A strategy that might allow them to outwit Voldemort and his Death Eaters. If Sirius could manage to convince Peter to take on the role of secret keeper James figured they just might have a chance at making it out alive.
