Chapter Eight
July 20th, 1981
Remus stood guard in the front garden while Lily and Hermione worked on the eroded wards. The witches spoke to one another with a speed that made both Harry and James cross-eyed, but Remus could follow along to a point. He rather enjoyed Ancient Runes back at Hogwarts, though Lily earning higher marks than him still rankled a bit. It seemed that Hermione was equally as brilliant, if not more so judging by the look of frustration on Lily's face.
Swearing at himself for getting distracted, he returned his attention to keeping an eye out for any sign of trouble.
James and Harry had both expressed concerns about Death Eaters, and while Hermione might not have said as much, she had hinted toward her concerns about Greyback and others that may somehow be tracking them. It did not take a genius for anyone who knew him well to figure that Remus would seek refuge with the Potters. Remus knew, however, that the wards Dumbledore erected around the cottage would deter his kind. He was only immune because James had added a few drops of his blood to the cornerstone used to anchor the spell. Dumbledore had insisted that the remaining spells added would keep James, Lily, and Harry protected from Voldemort until a better plan could be made. Remus knew he was thinking of a Fidelius Charm, and he said as much when Harry and Hermione were discussing safety measures to be taken. The identical expressions of conflict and hesitation his suggestion was met with had put him on edge. He knew they were keeping secrets, or at least waiting until the right time to tell them, but it was nerve-wracking to be out of the loop in the face of so many unknowns.
"The magic isn't even frayed," Lily muttered irritably. "I don't understand. It looks like a clean split right there. Not like it was purposely done—we would see punctures from the outside rather than the inside. It just looks . . . sloppy." She stood up and put her hands on her hips, blowing a strand of hair from her face as she re-cast a charm that allowed the wards to become visible.
The ethereal flow of magic around the house moved with a pulse as though it were alive. It had no distinct colour, but the subtle glow of it made Remus feel like they were in a snowglobe, but with the glitter-infused water acting as the glass instead.
"Hermione, Dumbledore set these wards himself," Lily whispered. "Is . . . ? Harry didn't want us to contact Dumbledore. Can you tell us why? Should we be afraid of him? He never struck me as . . . evil."
Remus turned his head, staring at his friend with his jaw hanging open in shock. She caught the look and frowned. "Dumbledore is not Voldemort."
Hermione stood up and dusted her hands off on her jeans. "I can't say much without revealing things that Harry says he's not ready to talk about. He's not evil, he's just . . . Negligent is the best word I can think of."
"Because he let a werewolf into Hogwarts?" Remus asked before thinking.
With a look of horror, Hermione approached him. "No," she said, taking his free hand with both of hers. "Allowing you to attend school was a kindness. One I honestly feel that was a great advantage to him in the years that followed."
"I don't understand."
Lily scoffed, tucking her wand away after cancelling the charm and hiding the wards once again. "She's saying that Dumbledore probably knew you'd feel indebted to him, you numpty."
A glance at his mate confirmed Lily's words, and Remus shook his head. "Dumbledore knows what he's doing. He . . . He has to."
"He's not our only option for safety, Remus," Hermione muttered and then walked into the house, Lily following close behind.
Hermione watched carefully as Remus's anger steadily grew. He was not the exhausted and grief-stricken professor she had once known, that was for certain. He had already lived a long life, that much was obvious, but there was a fire inside of him and a hope that was palpable in this younger version of the man she had known before. Professor Lupin had always seemed sad, even when he smiled. Remus—her Remus, a whispering voice in the back of her mind reminded her—was a happy person who was filled with fear and anger at the idea of those closest to him being taken away.
She knew, thanks in part to private conversations with Lily, that his mother died when they were still at Hogwarts, and his father lived somewhere in the south of Wales, but the two were not very close. Most of the distance between them seemed to be because Remus did not want to be the cause of anyone being hurt due to their association with him. Most of his friends were either in the Order or the werewolf pack that they had abandoned, and therefore already in danger on their own. Hermione felt guilty about that, and she prayed that none of Remus's friends would be punished by Greyback over the incident.
"I don't understand," Remus seethed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "The only way to supposedly break through a Fidelius Charm is through the Secret Keeper. We all know who James and Lily would choose if it came down to that."
"The Fidelius won't work," Harry repeated, leaving out the details.
"You can trust Sirius," Hermione said, already knowing what Remus was thinking. "Stop it."
He shook his head, his gaze landing on James who looked tired. "I want to trust him. I do. But nothing makes sense."
"I'm going to go check on Harry and Lils." James groaned a bit as he stood. He had spent the better part of the evening on the floor playing with little Harry and a container of blocks. "Have a glass of firewhisky, mate," he said, patting Remus on the shoulder. "We'll get it sorted. I promise."
Harry stood, looking like he was going to go in search of said firewhisky, but he instead followed after his father up the stairs.
"You have little reason to trust us with what we know," Hermione said, feeling heartbroken that she could not just tell him the whole truth. They had promised to be honest with one another, but there was a time and a place. "But if you can feel the same magic that I do, then I hope you can use that to understand how I feel about the situation. I would let myself die or worse before letting harm come to Harry and his family."
Without saying a word, Remus took her hand in his. She thought he meant to hold it, but instead, he pushed up the sleeve of her blouse, revealing the scar on her forearm. She had long ago learnt to ignore it, but she understood that it would take time for others to do the same. She was glad that Lily had yet to see it.
"Or worse," Remus said quietly after a few minutes of silence. "How bad did this hurt?"
"Not as bad at the Cruciatus that came before it," she said bluntly, feeling only slightly bad when he stared at her in shock. "I'm a tough girl, Remus. I'm a survivor."
"I don't want you to be in pain."
She smiled softly, moving closer to his side. "It doesn't hurt anymore."
His fingers edged higher on her arm, just touching the bottom of her bite wound, and Hermione suddenly understood his true meaning.
She swallowed, not wanting to think about the fact that she was now a werewolf. Other than the change in her magic and a few other oddities, she still felt the same. She imagined that would all change once the full moon began to make its monthly appearance. She had seen Professor Lupin shift once when she was fourteen. She did not want to admit that she was afraid of the same thing happening to her.
A crack of Apparition broke the tension between them, and Remus was suddenly alert and standing with his wand out.
Hermione's eyes widened at his speed. She had not even seen him draw the bit of wood from his pocket.
He stared at the front door with an intensity that was almost frightening, though Hermione felt like she would have been doing the same had she a wand of her own. Despite wanting to be on the offence, she knew that she was unarmed and would only serve as a distraction should Remus think of her safety above his own. Instead, she made a dash for the stairs to alert James, Lily, and Harry.
She did not make it more than halfway up the staircase before the front door to the cottage opened. A visual of the intruder was blocked from her, and she took a single step back down the stairs on instinct, wanting to be at Remus's side. That was when she saw him clear as day.
"Where the fuck have you been, you arsehole?"
Sirius Black.
Two shots of light left each of their wands, and Hermione's eyes widened in fear as the bolts of magic collided in the centre, creating a blinding effect. When her vision returned, the men had cast aside wands in favour of fists and were rolling around on the living room floor like a couple of irrational teenagers.
Neither of them seemed that invested in actually hurting the other. Remus, due to supernatural strength, had the upper hand and was pinning a squirming Sirius to the carpet by his wrists. Sirius's jean-clad legs kicked around, and he even went so far as to buck his hips as a means to get Remus off of him. One sharp thrust must have actually hurt, because Remus let go of one of Sirius's wrists, and the man sent his freed fist right into the side of Remus's jaw.
Without thinking, Hermione let out a low growl and marched toward the scene, which was exactly the wrong thing to do.
Sirius and Remus might have temporarily hated one another in that moment, but they had been friends since they were children. Hell, Hermione had seen how thirteen years of thinking Sirius had been a murderer did not keep Remus from hugging the man the first chance he got once he understood his innocence.
But to Sirius Black—this Sirius Black—Hermione was a stranger. A growling, stalking stranger, who was, for reasons unknown to him, in the supposedly-secured cottage of his best friends and infant godson, who were being hunted by the most dangerous wizard to ever exist.
Unsurprisingly, Sirius's grey eyes went horrifyingly dark, and he shifted into Padfoot in the blink of an eye and lunged at her, teeth bared.
The whispering voice in her head told her to attack, but Hermione was still a witch, and Padfoot was nearly the size of a bear. She let out a scream of fright and jumped backward, tripping over one of little Harry's blocks and colliding hard with the ground.
Before he could land on her and attack, Remus's long arm caught Padfoot around the middle. The dog let out a yelp of pain as the arm tightened. Using momentum, Remus spun around and let go, throwing Padfoot into the wall. The dog dropped with a loud thud, and the wall cracked right down the centre.
Two feet landed in front of Hermione, and she realised that Harry had jumped the railing of the staircase, likely as a result of hearing her scream. She could not see his face, but his stance was defensive, which caused Padfoot to take another running leap, snarling.
Harry, however, dropped his wand at the sight of the dog.
"Sirius! No!"
James leapt in front of Harry, taking the hit. He and the dog landed a foot beside Hermione, knocking into a table and sending photographs and a clay vase to the floor with a loud clatter.
Remus stalked toward them, deftly pushing Harry out of the way.
A stunner missed both man and dog, and in an instant, James shifted into a large stag, breaking a nearby window with an antler.
Accidentally kicked by a hoof, Padfoot crawled away and shifted back into human form, one hand holding his likely bruised ribs, the other holding his wand.
Hermione pulled herself up by using Harry's sleeve, and the movement caught Sirius's attention. He turned and growled at her. Automatically, she growled back.
Remus punched Sirius in the throat.
"Moony!"
Still heated, Remus—eyes glowing gold—turned on a now human James.
Harry stepped between them, putting a hand on each of their chests.
Sirius was coughing and holding his throat in pain as he slowly lowered to the ground. Petulantly, and likely because he had nothing left to do, he kicked a foot out, hitting Hermione in the shin and sending her back to the ground with a yelp.
"Disiungo!"
A pulse of magic hit the centre of the room like a rock dropped in a pond. A shockwave moved outward from the middle, a force of magic throwing everyone a good two feet backward. Sirius, James, and Harry all hit walls. Hermione was moved up against a cabinet. Remus was thrown into an open cupboard.
Lily stepped down into the aftermath, looking annoyed at the sound of pained groans and coughs. She glanced at the cracked wall and sighed heavily before turning her attention first to Harry. "Are you hurt?"
Wincing, Harry shook his head. "Just my pride."
"That'll heal," she muttered and then glanced to Hermione. "You all right?"
Hermione nodded. "I've had worse."
"Good. You both go upstairs and take some Pain-Relief Potions if you need them." She spun and pinned each Marauder with a stern look as she nonverbally summoned each of their wands into her hand. "You three clean up my bloody house the Muggle way. And not a single word to each other the whole time, or I swear to God, I'll render you mute until Christmas."
Without their wands, the men winced and groaned through blooming bruises and aches as they cleaned up a disaster of a living room. James huddled himself in the corner, pretending to sweep up broken glass, but Remus knew he was thinking about Quidditch with the way his hand gripped the handle of the broom. Sirius was being surprisingly meticulous about rehanging photographs that had gotten knocked down. Remus kept glancing over his shoulder at him every few minutes. There was not much to be done about the broken window he was cleaning up—not without a wand at least.
"Stop looking at me, tosser."
Remus narrowed his eyes. "Just making sure I didn't break your pretty face."
Sirius threw a teasing smirk at him. "At least I'm still pretty."
"Pretty pain in my arse," Remus muttered under his breath.
"Anyone going to tell me who the fuck those two people upstairs with Lily and my godson are?" When Remus growled at him in response, Sirius snapped, "By anyone, I actually meant James. I'm not speaking to you, you fucking twat."
"Fuck you," Remus spat.
"Lily said we're not supposed to talk," James mumbled.
"I'm not afraid of her," Sirius said, but Remus caught him glancing around the corner to make sure Lily had not heard him say so. "And fuck you right back, Moony. Where the hell have you been?"
"Pads—"
Sirius held up a hand in James's direction, settling his full attention on Remus, who rolled his eyes and looked away. "I don't have to answer to you. You were a prick the last time we spoke. You insisted that I wasn't doing my part, and you implied that I—"
"You smelled different, Moony. You think I don't know what a fucking werewolf smells like, especially when it ain't you?"
"You implied," Remus shouted with a glare, "that I didn't even . . . even fucking . . . care . . ." Emotions broke his voice, and he angrily shook his head. "Fuck you. Just . . . This is my family too, you arsehole."
Sirius looked down. "Yeah well . . . you missed my birthday. Prick."
Remus did feel bad about that.
They had spent every birthday together since they were eleven. Since that first birthday at Hogwarts when Sirius turned twelve and no presents arrived from home. He got a Howler right after the Sorting, but nothing came after that other than a short note from his younger brother sent by an owl Sirius did not recognise, meaning that it had been sneaked out. James had led the charge down to the kitchens where they bribed a Hufflepuff to tell them how to get in. They returned to the dorms with arms full of sweets and cakes courtesy of the house-elves and ate themselves so sick that both Sirius and Peter had to spend the night in the hospital wing after they threw up in McGonagall's class the following morning.
"Missed a lot of birthdays."
"Why?" Sirius asked. When James opened his mouth to speak, Sirius cut him off before he had the chance. "No. I want to know. I've spent fuck knows how long reading bits in the paper about werewolves on the move, my best friend—who is a werewolf—is nowhere to be seen and won't answer my fucking letters, and then just about the same time that he goes missing, people in the Order start whispering about a potential spy."
"Don't." James's lips were pinched in a tight line, and his brows furrowed in obvious anger. "We don't mistrust one another. We disagree, we fight, and we get the hell over it. But we trust one another always. It's what we've always done. We're brothers."
"Bad habit," Sirius muttered. "Don't have much luck when it comes to brothers. They either end up dead or Death Eaters. Sometimes both."
"I am not a fucking Death Eater," Remus snapped.
"Then you were dead for all I knew!"
"You want to know, Pads? You really want to know?" Remus left his place by the window, storming across the room to stand face-to-face with his friend.
"Yes!"
"I was with fucking Greyback! Because you're right; I am a spy! I'm just working for Dumbledore!" His fists clenched at his side began shaking with the urge to punch Sirius again. Or maybe to shake him. Maybe hug him. Remus was not too sure. "You happy? Arsehole."
The tension in Sirius's face dropped immediately. "Why would Dumbledore do that? He knows what Greyback . . . Fuck. That would be like sending me as a spy back to Grimmauld Place."
Remus took a step back and looked down. "Yeah."
Before anyone had a chance to say anything more, Remus let out an "oof" when Sirius launched at him, wrapping long arms around his back and pulling him in for a tight hug.
Sighing, Remus patted him on the back. "I missed you too, Pads."
"Did you see his face?"
Harry stared down at his feet, hanging off the foot of the bed. He could not bring himself to look at either Hermione or his mother, especially since she was holding the sleeping baby version of himself. It made him angry to think that the Sirius downstairs would have likely smiled and taken the baby in his arms, overjoyed to be reunited with his godson.
But Sirius had looked at him like he was . . . Merlin, like he was a Death Eater.
"Guess I don't look that much like my dad. Sirius didn't even recognise me. They all used to say I looked just like him. I thought—"
"He's not the Sirius you knew, Harry," Hermione said, putting an arm around his shoulders. "He's a very different man. Your parents were shocked and threatened at first too. You just need to give Sirius a chance."
He knew it made sense. Most things Hermione said always made sense, even if he did not always understand them. But it was Sirius. When Harry jumped downstairs after hearing Hermione scream, he had expected to find anyone there but Sirius.
Seeing Padfoot had made him feel stunned to the point where he could not move. When Sirius shifted back into human form and Harry got a really good look at him, he did not recognise the man. Harry had seen Sirius starved, crazed, in prison robes, on a murderous rampage, and in an alcoholic depression . . . but for the first time, Harry thought Sirius had looked dangerous. Truly dangerous. He was young and had years ahead of him instead of years behind him sucked away by dementors. Sirius was a fighter and was ready to kill or die for his godson.
And Harry was not his godson. Not really.
The realisation was like being kicked in the chest.
"He's always quick to jump to conclusions," Lily said. "But he'll love you, just like we do."
When his mother placed her hand against his face, Harry leant into it, trying to absorb her strength and love like a sponge.
The quiet moment was eventually broken by the sound of footsteps, and Harry looked up to see Sirius enter the room. James and Remus were just behind him. Sirius took a long look at Harry before awkwardly turning his full attention to the younger version. Like a knife to Harry's heart, Sirius's face softened, and he smiled widely, holding his hands out for the baby.
"Nope," Lily said, pulling away from him. "Not until you apologise. Also, is my living room fixed?"
"We need our wands, Lily," Remus said as he made his way into the room, placing himself between Hermione and Sirius. If he thought he was being sly about that, he had another thing coming, because Harry caught the annoyed expression on Hermione's face.
"I just want to hand him to James," Sirius said. "Because I'd like to have a little chat with you about your new guests."
"And you can't talk to me about it?" James asked, looking perturbed.
"Nope," Sirius said. "She runs this house and usually most of your brain. Lily, please?"
With a raised brow and a resigned sigh, Lily shifted the sleeping baby into James's arms and pushed Sirius's shoulder. "Downstairs. Now."
Harry looked up at his father with pleading eyes, hoping for some scrap of information.
James cleared his throat. "Well, I don't know about the three of you, but I'm up for some eavesdropping."
Hermione and Remus elected to stay behind. Harry assumed it was because their weird mate bond made them want to check one another's injuries. He was glad to give them their privacy.
Once he and James settled into the still-destroyed living room, Harry flicked his wand to gather up any leftover pieces of broken glass. James smiled and sat down on the floor just as little Harry began to stir, reaching a hand out for a stuffed dragon.
Harry stayed quiet, concentrating his magic to nonverbally repair the damaged wall.
"Are you taking the piss, Lily? Have you just completely lost the plot?" Sirius said in the kitchen. "You've no idea who those people are! This is just the type of thing that a Death Eater would think up to trick us."
"Is it not," Lily insisted, sounding annoyed. "Death Eaters aren't that smart. They're all inbred idiots like you. You think I didn't cast all the spells? Nevermind that he looks just like James unless you're completely blind. I made Harry take that paternity potion that I brewed. It worked on both me and James."
"So you're both his dads then?" Sirius said sarcastically. "Ow! Fuck!"
James snickered quietly, which offered Harry a bit of relief.
"Watch your goddamned language, Sirius," Lily snarled, her soft accent dropping a little more East than Harry expected.
He knew, of course, that his mother and aunt grew up in Cokeworth just a bit down the way from where Snape lived, but Petunia had apparently learnt to adapt long before he could remember. For some reason, knowing that his mother had been a prefect and Head Girl had made Harry think of her along the same lines as Hermione. He was beginning to see his mistake in that.
"Watch your language, my arse. You called me a cunting twat basket two years ago."
Harry's eyes widened, and he looked at his father in shock. James did nothing to deny the accusation, instead gently holding his hands over little Harry's ears.
"That's because you wouldn't stop being a cunting little twat basket!"
Harry's mouth fell open. "Whoa."
Clearing his throat awkwardly, James began to softly sing to the baby, "Baa, baa, black sheep, have you any wool . . . ?"
"And in my defense, I'd just found out I was pregnant."
"It was Christmas, you psycho!" Sirius said emphatically.
"I was hormonal and not in control of my emotions."
"Are you pregnant now then, you nutter? Don't you dare raise that—Expelliarmus!"
Harry took an awkward seat on the floor beside his father, fully expecting Sirius to be thrown through the newly-repaired wall any second. "So . . . has this cottage always been in the family?"
James looked up and smiled, albeit a bit uncomfortably. "What? Oh, yeah. Mum and Dad used it to get away when—"
"I see you eyeing that rolling pin, Evans. I'm not afraid to hit a girl."
"Give me back my wand, Black! It's that or the rolling pin! You decide which goes up your arse!"
"Always knew you liked holding a bit of wood. Ow!"
Shifting the baby onto his knee where he was happily playing with his stuffed animal, James looked at Harry and smiled. "Do you like curry? There's a great place round the corner. Nice little shop. They don't always deliver, but they make an exception because they like Lily."
From the kitchen, Sirius yelped in pain.
"Padfoot?" Baby Harry looked up excitedly.
"Padfoot's in trouble with Mummy," James whispered.
"Uh oh," little Harry said, bringing a chubby finger to his lips. "Shhh."
"That's right. No barking. Bad dog." James grinned, sharing a laugh with Harry, who was impressed with how his father remained so calm given the situation in the other room.
With a limp, Sirius slowly made his way into the living room, his eyes settling on James and the baby first before turning toward Harry. He cleared his throat and frowned, cringing when Lily shoulder-checked him as she made her way past.
"It has been brought to my attention," Sirius began, extending a hand of greeting to Harry, "that I might have overreacted."